Once more, with feeling

[mm_lettie]

For quite some time now, Tali'Zorah had been feeling under the weather. She hadn't taken the necessary precautions with a hole she'd torn in her suit (well, that a stray bullet had torn in her suit) and she had been illThe problem with this wasn't the fact that she felt sick, for quarians spent a distressing percentage of their lives feeling 'under

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[turiansnarker]

“Yeah, let’s meet back at my room. I think I left my rifle out for cleaning anyway.” He started to head out of the forward battery alcove with her and, as they parted way to their separate rooms for the moment, he added, backhanded, “and don’t get cold feet and back out. You’ve started this rolling and there’s nothing so rude as backing out of drinks with a turian. You’re committed now, vas Normandy.” He waved as he turned down the hall. “See you soon

[turiansnarker]

“Yeah. Alright.”

Garrus stood up and went to get the door for her while she gathered the purifier and what was left of the Palaven ale still in it. He briefly glanced at his other hand, the one still slightly warm with the ghost of Tali’s fingers. Strange. Maybe it was how the suits were designed, but despite their resilient material it felt soft as kid gloves or like there was nothing there at all. He closed his hand and looked back to Tali as she approached the door, keying it open.

“Thanks for stopping by to talk, Tali. It’s been too long since we had the chance.” He touched her shoulder briefly, in gratitude then turned back to his room and the two parted quietly for the night. Later, sitting up in his bun contemplating the wall and the trajectory of a bullet he regretting firing, Garrus kept revisiting their conversation, turning over Tali’s words like little stones, and trying to gauge their weight.