The Sad Man Behind Blue Eyes 3/4
anonymous
August 12 2013, 20:16:51 UTC
"What if I promise to stop? I'll drop off the ladar completely, go into hiding, never hurt a fly again. Maybe open a soup kitchen somewhere?"
"Garrus..."
Well, he hadn't really expected it to work. "Or how about an orphanage?" Garrus edged closer, disguising his movement with a hand offered in peace. This close, he could feel the soft thrumming of Kaidan's shields. Shields which were no doubt cranked up to absolute maximum if he felt confident enough to take his helmet off when going to confront a sniper specialist with a preference for head shots. Garrus congratulated himself on letting his intuition make the decision to not shoot Kaidan when he'd first seen him. Kaidan had come prepared to deal with a sniper.
Less known was that Garrus was also no slouch at hand-to-hand. Top rated, even. Biotics on the other hand were mid-to-long range experts. They needed time and space to use their abilities. And Kaidan had always preferred to keep to the outskirts of the battle, to pick his targets carefully, and make the rest of the team stronger with his skills.
Excellent qualities in a team player.
One on one with someone who'd spent a lot of time as a loner? Not so much.
Garrus readied himself, keeping his breathing cool, coiled as unnoticeably as he could, then snatched for Kaidan between the heartbeats, to bring him into a fast and efficient strangle-hold that usually made humans very cooperative, very fast.
Except Kaidan wasn't there any more. Either he'd anticipated or just gotten lucky because he was already moving when Garrus' arms tore through thin air. Far from flailing clumsily, Garrus followed up his attack with a nasty kick aimed to trip him and get him back into reach. But Kaidan's legs weren't where he'd expected them to be either. He'd flowed around Garrus like a damn shadow and somehow managed to get right into his dead reach zone, the dangerous place behind a turian's back where he could neither see nor reach.
On instinct, Garrus twisted and spun into the counter-thrash that had been hard-drilled through years of training to get a person out of said zone.
Kaidan dodged... mostly, incapable of escaping the twist fast enough. Garrus failed to get a grip on him, but he felt his sharpened gauntlets meet softness as they drew straight through sensitive human flesh - Kaidan's face.
Didn't quite manage to poke his eyes out, but first blood was Garrus'. It wasn't a victory to celebrate though, even if he'd had the time. The cool, combat-oriented part of Garrus' mind was dispassionately noting he'd underestimated Kaidan. Those moves were professional, those of someone who'd studied the choreography of Garrus' dance ahead of time. Now that he knew, it wouldn't happen again.
If there was an again. Kaidan hadn't stopped moving, and the response was immediate, and painful. The hard, biotic-fueled punch to the soft spot on Garrus' armor where thigh met torso made him lose his balance, and then Kaidan used his own bodyweight to take the fight to the floor. Garrus' breath left him in a hard huff, his fringe aching from the impact, but thankfully he hadn't hit his head.
Gauntleted hands went around his wrists, pressing and bending his arms uncomfortably back down against the floor in a direction they were never supposed to go. He thrashed to the side, desperately trying to get momentum leverage, or anything other than being flat on his back, but Kaidan's weight settled on top of him in a full mount, straddling his waist, pressing him down. He was heavy. Damn heavy. More than just Kaidan plus hardsuit could account for. His legs pushed Garrus' down, and pain flooded him as the heavy hardsuit boots managed to work themselves between his spurs and his calves, spreading them with carefully restrained force.
Garrus groaned, and relaxed his body, switching to plan B: deception. Wait for the opportunity. The sniper's patience at work, just like all those times when he was down to one shot in the magazine, and one target he couldn't afford to miss.
"So... now what's the plan?" he said, trying to sound conversational.
"Garrus..."
Well, he hadn't really expected it to work. "Or how about an orphanage?" Garrus edged closer, disguising his movement with a hand offered in peace. This close, he could feel the soft thrumming of Kaidan's shields. Shields which were no doubt cranked up to absolute maximum if he felt confident enough to take his helmet off when going to confront a sniper specialist with a preference for head shots. Garrus congratulated himself on letting his intuition make the decision to not shoot Kaidan when he'd first seen him. Kaidan had come prepared to deal with a sniper.
Less known was that Garrus was also no slouch at hand-to-hand. Top rated, even. Biotics on the other hand were mid-to-long range experts. They needed time and space to use their abilities. And Kaidan had always preferred to keep to the outskirts of the battle, to pick his targets carefully, and make the rest of the team stronger with his skills.
Excellent qualities in a team player.
One on one with someone who'd spent a lot of time as a loner? Not so much.
Garrus readied himself, keeping his breathing cool, coiled as unnoticeably as he could, then snatched for Kaidan between the heartbeats, to bring him into a fast and efficient strangle-hold that usually made humans very cooperative, very fast.
Except Kaidan wasn't there any more. Either he'd anticipated or just gotten lucky because he was already moving when Garrus' arms tore through thin air. Far from flailing clumsily, Garrus followed up his attack with a nasty kick aimed to trip him and get him back into reach. But Kaidan's legs weren't where he'd expected them to be either. He'd flowed around Garrus like a damn shadow and somehow managed to get right into his dead reach zone, the dangerous place behind a turian's back where he could neither see nor reach.
On instinct, Garrus twisted and spun into the counter-thrash that had been hard-drilled through years of training to get a person out of said zone.
Kaidan dodged... mostly, incapable of escaping the twist fast enough. Garrus failed to get a grip on him, but he felt his sharpened gauntlets meet softness as they drew straight through sensitive human flesh - Kaidan's face.
Didn't quite manage to poke his eyes out, but first blood was Garrus'. It wasn't a victory to celebrate though, even if he'd had the time. The cool, combat-oriented part of Garrus' mind was dispassionately noting he'd underestimated Kaidan. Those moves were professional, those of someone who'd studied the choreography of Garrus' dance ahead of time. Now that he knew, it wouldn't happen again.
If there was an again. Kaidan hadn't stopped moving, and the response was immediate, and painful. The hard, biotic-fueled punch to the soft spot on Garrus' armor where thigh met torso made him lose his balance, and then Kaidan used his own bodyweight to take the fight to the floor. Garrus' breath left him in a hard huff, his fringe aching from the impact, but thankfully he hadn't hit his head.
Gauntleted hands went around his wrists, pressing and bending his arms uncomfortably back down against the floor in a direction they were never supposed to go. He thrashed to the side, desperately trying to get momentum leverage, or anything other than being flat on his back, but Kaidan's weight settled on top of him in a full mount, straddling his waist, pressing him down. He was heavy. Damn heavy. More than just Kaidan plus hardsuit could account for. His legs pushed Garrus' down, and pain flooded him as the heavy hardsuit boots managed to work themselves between his spurs and his calves, spreading them with carefully restrained force.
Garrus groaned, and relaxed his body, switching to plan B: deception. Wait for the opportunity. The sniper's patience at work, just like all those times when he was down to one shot in the magazine, and one target he couldn't afford to miss.
"So... now what's the plan?" he said, trying to sound conversational.
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