The Times, They Are A-Changin'

[savor_last_shot]

Who: Garrus, open to Normandy haus.
Where: Normandy House
What: Garrus is human; hilarity ensues.
When: Afternoon.
Warnings: Possible anaphylactic shock, probably swearing, maybe violence.

Comments

[cmdr_renegade]

"Yeah. Good try, but no cigar," Shepard replied flatly and tightened her grip on his pinned wrist. Her gun was pressed firmly against the side of his head. She was honestly prepared to shoot him, but something in that statement gave her just a brief moment of pause. That was a red-flag. Something about that voice...was offhandedly familiar.

She hadn't heard it on the network, or in person, not here. Guy was too pretty to be one of Lev's men. That left three options: another drop in from their universe (one with suspiciously impressive tracking and infiltration skills, who knew her from basic or something obscenely obscure...possibly an agent of an information broker), he was the smallest UNSC member ever and she'd never seen him out of armor, or he was a robot.

None of them were terribly compelling reasons to avoid killing him, really, but they'd bother her all damn day if she didn't figure it out.

"Keep talking, tall-dark-and bruising," Shepard demanded flatly. "You get one more try because I'm feeling generous today. The wonders of beauty sleep."

[savor_last_shot]

"It's me!" Spirits, how did she not realize this? And his arm was starting to scream at him even more. Not to mention that being on the wrong end of Shepard's pistol was a very, very uncomfortable experience. One that he really had no desire to repeat in the near future.

If he lived to see the near future, anyway.

"Garrus! You pulled me off of Omega!"

He took a deep breath (human lung capacity seemed about the same - maybe less). She didn't know about this particular detail (he thought), but it should prove his identity. "...check my visor. It has the names of my squadmates burned into it."

Hopefully, that would be enough proof for her. Otherwise, he'd have to think of something else that might persuade her that he wasn't some random nutjob off of the street.

[cmdr_renegade]

Visor?

She had been too focused on his face (or what of it wasn't currently pressed against glass), and had barely noticed the Kuwashii against the mirror. Ultimately, that was probably a good thing. Had she recognized it off the bat, she would have shot him through one, if not both legs, and then questioned (probably with her fists) him about how he pried that off of Garrus.

While she didn't buy for a second that this was Garrus...she doubted Garrus had thrown around the whole Omega story on this station. It wasn't one of his favorite drinking anecdotes.

That ruled out UNSC and robot.

Shepard released the pressure on his arm and used the limb to yank him around. Her gun stayed uncomfortably close to his head as her freed hand pulled the visor off of him. Definitely Garrus's. She pulled it away and scanned the interior lining. Sure enough. Every single name was there, Sidonis had even been burned out.

Given that the Illusive Man hadn't even put together that Garrus and Archangel were the same guy, odds were slim that any broker would have had knowledge of this specific quirk (...particularly since he'd probably done it while he was besieged and no one had eyes on him). Shepard lowered the gun and her suspicious glare turned into a confused one.

"The fuck happened to you?" Shepard asked as she stepped back and effectively released him.

[savor_last_shot]

Garrus breathed a sigh of relief as the pain eased and he was finally able to get his bearings. He wasn't having that much trouble staying up right - humans turians were both bipeds, after all - but everything felt a bit off. Like he should be a bit taller, his eyesight should be a bit better. Little things. A bunch of little things that all rolled together and became one big thing. He settled against the bathroom's sink with a frown and rubbed at his arm.

"Human arms weren't meant to bend that way, were they?"

The pain had been his first clue. The question brought his attention back to Shepard.

"I... I have no idea. I went out on a perimeter sweep this morning. Didn't see anything, decided to head back. I step through the transporter - next thing I know I'm... like this."

The turian-turned-human gestured at himself. It even looked like his armor, only translated over to the best human analogue. He turned around and looked into the mirror again, fighting down a rising sense of panic and detachment. This really couldn't be happening. He leaned forward, both hands up against the reflective surface. Shepard could probably see the expression of bewilderment and fear on his face.

"How... How the Hell do I deal with this? I don't understand-"

His face twitched as he tried to make an expression that was impossible with human facial muscles.

"...I can't deal with this."

[cmdr_renegade]

Aside from the fact that the armor was possibly the ugliest rig she'd ever seen on a human (that Phoenix monstrosity, inclusive), he seemed in good health. No missing limbs, skin in tact, and only mild redness on the side of his face from where she'd shoved him up against the glass.

The more he talked, the more she believed him. That was Garrus's voice, alright. It was a bit bizarre without that flange, but still similar enough. Unfortunately, now that he wasn't being assaulted, he'd gone right back to the freak-out she'd interrupted in the first place.

"While it's clearly a step down the evolutionary ladder," Shepard started, dryly, "I'm sure if you can handle fighting geth and collectors, you can survive being a human until we figure out what happened."

Speaking of inability to deal with strange, reality defying bullshit? Without gunfighting or combat, she was just not awake enough.

"You want more specific help in dealing with it, it'll have to wait until after coffee," Shepard added and turned to leave the bathroom.

[savor_last_shot]

"I- Yeah. Yeah, you're right, Shepard."

He sounded a bit relieved that she was taking this in stride. If Shepard had started getting worried, he probably would've cracked. It was just being in another body, right? Just. Being human. He'd lived around plenty of humans. Slept with one. Yeah.

He'd be fine.

Really.

He took a deep breath and finally tore himself away from the mirror to follow Shepard. The minature kitchen-slash-dining room that this suite had was comfortable enough. Even if there were spare parts, heat-sinks and disassembled tech components stacked in various places. He walked over to the refrigerator, still feeling out of place and like he was going to topple over at some point.

Still locked in thought, he tugged the refrigerator open and snagged a nutrient pack from his side of the fridge. He ripped it open and tilted it back, swallowing a mouthful of flavored paste. Garrus turned toward Shepard and watched her fiddle with the coffee machine for a moment. He was about to say something - a comment on his predicament, more then likely - and then he doubled up as a lance of pain shot through his gut.

"Son-of-a-"

He braced himself against the counter, legs weak. "What-?"

Oh, right. He wasn't turian anymore.

[cmdr_renegade]

Shepard had just managed to get the coffee into the machine when Garrus started yammering. She assumed it was him bitching about having five fingers until he started gasping and clawing at his throat. One look at the dextro nutrient paste next to his foot clarified the situation completely. Judging by the redness of face and the way he was flailing, he'd taken a healthy mouthful and had a pretty serious allergy to it.

Figured.

Shepard didn't panic, ever, and this situation was no exception. Calmly, Shepard opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator, just above Garrus's head. She'd half figured Parker or Virgil's rotund redhead would eventually give those packets a try and had stocked a few spare adrenaline needles next to the coffee filters.

With the calm repose of someone who had both done it before and accepted the inevitability of the situation happening again, Shepard uncapped one and looked Garrus over. Considering that he'd downed half the nutrient pack and was turning a healthy maroon, stabbing him in the leg or the arm weren't great options. The extensiveness of Turian armor also made that a problem. Without much pause, she pulled his hand away from his throat and promptly stabbed him in the side of the neck.

He gasped, but looked much improved as the adrenaline hit his blood. After a second Shepard pulled the empty syringe away and turned back to finish making her coffee.

"Good job. Give it a minute and go take a seat," she said and pulled another mug out. "I'll get you something that won't result in anaphylaxis."

[savor_last_shot]

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He hadn't been thinking, been too distracted - ironically enough - by his new human body to think about what he was eating. And he'd been about to die on the floor, if Shepard hadn't stabbed him in the neck with something. He took a deep breath of air as his throat started to open again and he managed to stagger to a seat and he slumped with a clatter. After a few moments of gulping in air and waiting for his stomach to settle, he slumped over, head rested on his arms.

"...this is ridiculous. I have five fingers, I'm allergic to my own food and my eyesight-"

He squinted.

"...my eyesight seems worse. I think. I don't even have mandibles. Just because I like humans doesn't mean I wanted to be one-!"

Yeah, he was about to start ranting.

[cmdr_renegade]

Shepard listened to Garrus in only the most technical way. She had no idea how he took his coffee and, having never tasted dextro food (for obvious reasons), had no way to approximate. She settled for just bringing him one of the many packs of extra mix-ins that they kept around for various local crew. She tossed it on the table in front of him and set the mug down next to his arm.

He clearly needed some kind of pep talk but given the laundry list of complaints about her species...yeah.

"So you've been rendered completely ineffective because of a few spare fingers and a lack of facial plating?" Shepard paused and took a sip of her own coffee as she wandered back to find something edible. First levo thing he ate probably shouldn't be the ration bars she usually had for breakfast. "Funny, I thought it'd be harder."

[savor_last_shot]

"I'm not ineffective," Garrus snapped. His mood was worse than usual. "It's just... strange! How would you like it if you woke up one morning and your body felt wrong? I should be moving my mandibles right now, but I don't have any, so I just end up-"

He shook his head sullenly and plucked the cup of coffee off of the table with a muttered, "Thanks," and downed a large gulp of it. He paused, glanced at the mug in his hands and then up at Shepard, "...this coffee stuff is pretty good. Bit of a rush to it."

[cmdr_renegade]

"That's the caffeine," Shepard replied and took another drink. She chose not to answer the first line of bitching. (Woke up one morning to a body that felt wrong? Oh Garrus, gold star.)

"And cut the whining about the mandibles. You have movable facial features, they get the job done," Shepard added as she continued to look for food amid the strange conglomeration of parts and ammunition that littered the room. "The voice is a definite downgrade, but not that bad overall."

Apparently Sagan had been by recently with more baked goods. She was...halfheartedly avoiding him, she still didn't know how to deal with people who were genuinely happy to see her, but he didn't seem to mind. Kept trying to buy her off with baking.

It was working too.

Shepard cut a piece of the--banana and walnut bread? Sure. She cut a couple pieces and tossed them on a plate before heading back over to the table.

"Look at it this way: you could have turned into Virgil."

[savor_last_shot]

"I don't even want think about that," Garrus shuddered. Virgil. Ugh. Disgusting, slimy little bastard. Sometimes he wondered why Shepard kept him around the way she did. He wasn't even all that useful. He propped his chin in his hand - man, that was weird - and took another slurp. He eyed the food that Shepard was presenting him and then snagged a slice and took a bite.

Hey, not bad. He hadn't realized how hungry he was and he began chewing and swallowing very quickly (hard to get used to, chewing). Almost choked once or twice before he reminded himself that humans chewed their food. He washed the bread down with more coffee.

"It's still weird," he complained half-heartedly. At least Shepard was around to keep him company. And the rest of the crew.

"Joker is going to flip when he hears about this."

[cmdr_renegade]

"I say you go harass him," Shepard suggested with a shrug and finished her cup of coffee. She snagged the (now empty) plate and took it with her as she went to get another cup.

"Bound to be as amusing as it is unproductive."

[savor_last_shot]

"Amusing for me? Or him?" He paused and settled his features into what he thought was a human grin, "...or you?"

[cmdr_renegade]

Garrus looked bizarre with a grin on his face...well, a grin that didn't involve mandibles. It was forced, but at least he wasn't bitching any more.

"A little of the first and a lot of the last," Shepard answered with a shrug. Freaking Joker out had been a past-time of hers even before she'd had direct command over him. True, this one wasn't her Joker, but it made the whole experience just that much more entertaining.

"Best if you can get a recording of it if you do."

[savor_last_shot]

"I see how it is. You just keep me around to keep Joker on his toes," Garrus replied dryly, "Although I suppose I can't fault you for that."

His mood was steadily improving, even if he didn't particularly like the idea of being human. It was still weird.

"Anything else you can recommend for me?"