"Returning the Favor" 1/? Garrus/Shepard + Oraka
anonymous
November 30 2014, 06:19:12 UTC
(Ah, sorry OP,I did unintentially change one thing - this is less "Shepard playing hard to get" as it is "Shepard being unavailable because the Alliance has her in prison". Hopefully you'll like the story anyway. :) )
Garrus Vakarian stared morosely at his ticket for passage to Palaven and swallowed back the last dregs of his beer.
A citadel news report droned on the background. His desperate ears perked up at her name.
Commander Shepard has been taken into Alliance custody for questioning in regards to her involvement in the explosion that wiped out the Bahak system...
He tried to shut out the report and signaled the bar keeper for another beer. The Nebula barkeeper - and spirits, he knew he was desperate to get drunk when he was at the Nebula - looked at him and made a soft, barely audible sympathetic clack with his mandibles before pouring him the beer, and an extra shot of Palaven brandy on the side.
“I only ordered the beer.” He'd said, before downing the liquid. The warmth shot through his veins, but it didn't make him feel better.
“Chaser's on the house.” The bartender chuckled. “You look like you need it.”
He nodded, and slammed the shot back. Blinked. Ordered another.
The bartender clicked again, then gave him another one. He downed it quickly. Stared at the ticket in his hand.
It didn't help.
He didn't know why he was doing this. It wasn't like it had helped last time.
- - -
The first time she had abruptly left his life, he'd taken the day off work and gone to drink himself into oblivion on the Citadel.
Garrus Vakarian's plan, such as it was, was to get quite rip-roaringly drunk.
He was on his...seventh? Eighth? He'd kind of stopped counting once the Nebula bartender just shook his head and started pouring every time Garrus finished a drink.
His plan was to drink until he couldn't remember the day anymore.
So far it wasn't working, because he remembered the phone call he'd gotten in his office just fine.
“I'm sorry,” Kaidan's voice rang out, perfectly clear across the line. “She didn't make it. I know you were close. I thought you deserved to know first.”
He keened loudly just remembering that much, and a krogan entering the bar gave him an odd look.
Huh, he kind of looked like Wrex.
“You're being a god damned idiot, kid.” A warm, three-fingered hand on his shoulder, and he'd flinched at the familiar voice. It was Wrex. “Hell, even I want to kick the crap out of you.”
“She's gone, Wrex.” Bleary blue eyes met red. “Gone, gone gone.” He'd keened again and Wrex shook his head at his mourning song and sat next to him.
“Not supposed to be. My fault.” Another loud, piercing cry left his throat, and he saw Wrex cringe at the high-pitched noise. “I miss her so much, Wrex.”
A pause. Wrex said nothing.
“Spectre program doesn't seem worth it now.” He waved his empty glass toward Wrex. “She was...she had so much more to do.” He sighed. “And there was...There was so much more I wanted to do with her.”
Wrex had understood then, and even through the haze of drunkenness he remembered Wrex's slow blink, and the new emotion in the krogan's eyes.
Pity.
He let out another loud noise, and Wrex actually started pulling him off his chair. “Let's get you of here, kid, before someone takes issue with your karaoke.”
He'd let him, after that. Wrex had dragged him all the way home to his crappy apartment in Shalta.
“You turians are weird.” He'd huffed, half-walking, half-dragging Garrus up the stairs. “You don't say a word about this to her when she's alive, but the second she's dead, you're shitting yourself confessing your love for her.” He shook his head.
“Wrex, I wasn't, it wasn't, I-I-I-” The sentence died in his throat, strangled by sub-vocals of anguish and grief.
Wrex gave him a look of such pity that made he'd sworn the krogan could hear it.
Two years later, when Wrex saw him on Tuchanka - Shepard in tow - he'd murmured his advice to him.
Garrus Vakarian stared morosely at his ticket for passage to Palaven and swallowed back the last dregs of his beer.
A citadel news report droned on the background. His desperate ears perked up at her name.
Commander Shepard has been taken into Alliance custody for questioning in regards to her involvement in the explosion that wiped out the Bahak system...
He tried to shut out the report and signaled the bar keeper for another beer. The Nebula barkeeper - and spirits, he knew he was desperate to get drunk when he was at the Nebula - looked at him and made a soft, barely audible sympathetic clack with his mandibles before pouring him the beer, and an extra shot of Palaven brandy on the side.
“I only ordered the beer.” He'd said, before downing the liquid. The warmth shot through his veins, but it didn't make him feel better.
“Chaser's on the house.” The bartender chuckled. “You look like you need it.”
He nodded, and slammed the shot back. Blinked. Ordered another.
The bartender clicked again, then gave him another one. He downed it quickly. Stared at the ticket in his hand.
It didn't help.
He didn't know why he was doing this. It wasn't like it had helped last time.
- - -
The first time she had abruptly left his life, he'd taken the day off work and gone to drink himself into oblivion on the Citadel.
Garrus Vakarian's plan, such as it was, was to get quite rip-roaringly drunk.
He was on his...seventh? Eighth? He'd kind of stopped counting once the Nebula bartender just shook his head and started pouring every time Garrus finished a drink.
His plan was to drink until he couldn't remember the day anymore.
So far it wasn't working, because he remembered the phone call he'd gotten in his office just fine.
“I'm sorry,” Kaidan's voice rang out, perfectly clear across the line. “She didn't make it. I know you were close. I thought you deserved to know first.”
He keened loudly just remembering that much, and a krogan entering the bar gave him an odd look.
Huh, he kind of looked like Wrex.
“You're being a god damned idiot, kid.” A warm, three-fingered hand on his shoulder, and he'd flinched at the familiar voice. It was Wrex. “Hell, even I want to kick the crap out of you.”
“She's gone, Wrex.” Bleary blue eyes met red. “Gone, gone gone.” He'd keened again and Wrex shook his head at his mourning song and sat next to him.
“Not supposed to be. My fault.” Another loud, piercing cry left his throat, and he saw Wrex cringe at the high-pitched noise. “I miss her so much, Wrex.”
A pause. Wrex said nothing.
“Spectre program doesn't seem worth it now.” He waved his empty glass toward Wrex. “She was...she had so much more to do.” He sighed. “And there was...There was so much more I wanted to do with her.”
Wrex had understood then, and even through the haze of drunkenness he remembered Wrex's slow blink, and the new emotion in the krogan's eyes.
Pity.
He let out another loud noise, and Wrex actually started pulling him off his chair. “Let's get you of here, kid, before someone takes issue with your karaoke.”
He'd let him, after that. Wrex had dragged him all the way home to his crappy apartment in Shalta.
“You turians are weird.” He'd huffed, half-walking, half-dragging Garrus up the stairs. “You don't say a word about this to her when she's alive, but the second she's dead, you're shitting yourself confessing your love for her.” He shook his head.
“Wrex, I wasn't, it wasn't, I-I-I-” The sentence died in his throat, strangled by sub-vocals of anguish and grief.
Wrex gave him a look of such pity that made he'd sworn the krogan could hear it.
Two years later, when Wrex saw him on Tuchanka - Shepard in tow - he'd murmured his advice to him.
“Don't waste your chance this time, turian.”
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