Disclaimer: Chapter one.

I will need to do at least one more chapter of GC after this before doing any more FL. Whelp, better get to work!

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh-" A long, piercing scream wrenched out of Shepard. Her whole body was tensed into a solid state, like a shivering statue, and her hands wrung and wrapped so much into her sheets that they might as well be cuffs that she was straining against. After an eternity, she collapsed, and her body remembered to gasp for air.

He looked up at her, a cocksure grin on his pussy-soaked face. "Enjoying yourself, Commander?"

"Make that verb into past tense, soldier. That's an order. No one is going to question your sexual prowess just because you brought your woman to an orgasm less than twenty times in a night."

Garrus's own steam had run out a while ago, because Mordin was right about human stamina, but he wasn't going to take that lying down, so to speak. He had set to work on making sure he wore her out as completely as possible. It was the least he could do.

"Don't tell me you've gotten tired of me already," he joked.

Shepard weakly brought a hand before her face. "I think my eyes are broken."

"So, the Great Commander Shepard can simply be pleasured into defeat? The Reapers are definitely looking into the wrong kind of tech, then."

"Jesus, what's going to happen if I ask you to marry me? Is that why turian honeymoons last so long? Because the women get tongue-fucked into comas?"

"You may have a point. We'll need to get you some more toys. For variety."

"I'm not going anywhere near a sex-shop with you until I'm positive you won't start a firefight in the place just to get us some privacy with the merchandise."

Garrus slid up beside her and pulled the covers around them. "Only if it's a classy sex-shop."

She huffed and cuddled up to him. "Then we are not going to Illium for a while."

"Mm. Speaking of destinations, where are we set to go?"

"Ah... Well, I have a dossier for probably our last new crew-member, and Samara thinks she's tracked down her daughter. So..."

"So?"

"Next stop: Omega."

Garrus blinked a couple times. "I'm coming, right?"

"Well..."

"Shepard!"

"Samara only needs one person for her mission! And I'm pretty sure this Zaeed character will just be a pick-up."

"Zaeed Massani? Then I'm definitely coming."

"Garrus..." She sighed. "Okay. You're coming. I swear, Vakarian, I give you an inch..."

"I fought for every inch of that mile, as you recall. Or do you need another demonstration?"

"Can't hear you. Already asleep."

Subject: Follow Up

Commander,

I apologize that I had to end our discussion so early; I had to attend to my son, and he was—understandably—very upset with me concerning my demand. I believe he knows now why I asked what I did, but that's not what I need to talk about with you, now.

I want to explain myself. No doubt you know that I'm a conservative man, and I'm sure Garrus has told you that I do not have a history of getting along with Spectres. I honestly don't see that changing anytime in the near future, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let this color my judgment. As I understand, among humans, conservatism is still filled with racism, which isn't so surprising since your race only just entered the galactica publica.

I'm not going to say I've always had the best impressions of humans (the first I had to work with, after all, was Harkin, and he's hardly an exemplary representation of anything), but I've always felt that racism is a willful handicap for the racist, a handicap I could ill-afford as an Investigator.

I say this because I want you to understand that what I'm about to say is not out of ignorant hate.

I have cursed your name, Commander. Two years ago, you had stolen my son away from his position to get killed by what I thought to be some pointless delusion. From my perspective, you had dragged him into a war that, as far as I could tell, was only between you and a senior Spectre, one whose corruption was merely more complete than your own.

No one in my clan was allowed to mention your name in my presence. When you died, I disallowed everyone from attending your funeral or mourning you in any way. Garrus disobeyed my orders, assuming he even heard them; he had already long since stopped talking to me by that point. This, of course, only made me curse you all the more. You had corrupted my son, who was now well on his way to becoming a Spectre himself by your influence.

Then, he disappeared. He talked to my daughter every once in a while, but was otherwise carefully off the radar.

Since coming into contact with him again, I've had to come to understand a lot of things. I'm not unaware of my son's talents; he is patient, opportunistic, has a commendable sense of honor and duty, all fantastic qualities in a turian. But this didn't fit into C-Sec. He complained time and again about the rules, the red-tape, and I'd hear constantly from Pallin how much trouble Garrus caused him, and how he wished he wasn't so competent so he could just get rid of him.

That always confused me. I knew he could follow orders; his commanders in the military were constantly heaping praises on him, and were the ones that pushed forward the recommendation for him to become a Spectre without my knowledge. I kept wondering... just why he couldn't settle in C-Sec if he did so well on a damn warship.

My outing with you on Noveria has made me admit something I've been denying: Garrus is not meant for civilian life, even in the form of work at C-Sec. This, you must understand, has been my worst nightmare. We turians are proud of our martial prowess, sure, but most of us don't become lifers in the military; it would keep us from our homes and clans that we worked so hard to build and protect. Garrus is, I admit now, not meant for settling; he's a natural tactician and soldier, he's meant for the battlefield.

I am very likely going to lose my son to this upcoming war, Commander. I want to be proud of what he's going to become, what he's already become, but it's hard to when I know that everything about him is outside of my reach and ability to help. I can't lead or mentor him, anymore, but you can. He not only cares for you, but he looks up to you, learns from you. He needs you, and soon the Hierarchy will need him.

If it comes about that we all survive this, we need to talk about binding clans and family building. A whole different meeting, a lot more clinical. I suggest doing some research beforehand on your options. That's, of course, assuming I can get you two to finally settle down after the fact.

Regards,

Jurian Vakarian

"His father has gone from hating me to expecting me to give him grandchildren," Shepard said out loud to the empty loft, then started laughing. They had already docked according to EDI, but she had to make sure Garrus had vacated the premises and gave her time to read this message, so she had sent him to get his equipment ready and had him read the briefs for the mission.

He was apparently too quick, because she scarcely finished when Joker chimed in. "Hey, Commander, when are you coming to the airlock? Garrus is pawing at the door like a dog who wants out of his kennel."

She gave a scoff at Joker's simile. "If we're already at port, he doesn't need to wait for me. He knows Omega well enough to roam around on his own."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to leave without you. He seems like the overprotective type."

"I'm not the one he needs to be worried about. In fact, if I recall correctly, I wasn't the one who was missing part of their skull the last time we left the place."

"Hey, that aside, you do get shot at a lot more than most people. And you know a guard dog can't help being a guard dog."

"Does Garrus hear you calling him a dog down there?"

"What? Nooo. And even if he could hear me, I don't think he knows what a dog is." After a short pause, Joker added, "Okay, so I was wrong on both accounts. Could you please get here quickly? I'm very fragile, you know."

"Let him know I'm coming down now."

Jokes aside, Garrus did look eager. Samara, on the other hand, was as reserved as usual, if not hesitant. At least, Shepard supposed she looked hesitant; not that Samara was particularly difficult to read, but she wasn't very emotional as a person, and even so, the mission was likely... complicated for her.

Picking up Massani was the first order of business, and, unlike most of their missions, was a quick one. He was the sort of old, gruff veteran she actually rather missed having around and was glad to bring aboard. In fact, she would have loved to bring him along to a mission immediately, but that would have to wait.

Second was Morinth. Garrus stayed mostly out of sight while Shepard spoke with Aria, and she went to gather him from where he hid afterwards. "We'll be going to the tenements, now. Apparently, the Ardat-Yakshi's latest victim lived there. You know much about the area?"

"Sure. A lot of the people I helped out came from there. I'd be glad to help you investigate, if you like."

She smiled. "Trying to prove you can be useful?"

"I thought we already discussed what I can prove last night," he purred. She groaned and slapped his arm.

Garrus recognized Diana, the mother of the victim, and was easily able to speak with her and gain permission to look through her daughter's belongings for clues. And he definitely didn't come up empty-handed. "The VIP lounge in Afterlife seems to be her preferred hunting ground. We go there, we may just find her."

"Storming her den would be a mistake. Morinth is very cagey; she will have a hundred escape routes planned," Samara cut in, "Then, she will go to ground and disappear for fifty years or more. This is the closest I've ever been."

"Then what do you suggest?" Garrus said.

"Shepard must go to the VIP lounge alone and unarmed. She can draw Morinth out. She'll certainly flee if she catches sight of me, but she won't be able to resist her. She is an artist on the battlefield and has the vital spark that attracts Morinth. The power will draw her in."

"Wait, hold on. You want her to walk into this place with no gun and no backup?"

Shepard sighed. Should have left him back on the ship after all.

"I will be in the shadows watching. Shepard will never be alone—this I swear. But she cannot barge in with guns and allies."

"We're wasting time," Shepard broke in. "Let's get over there."

As they left, she tried to dismiss Garrus, but he was adamant about not leaving her side, and it was clear he was trying to think of an undercover approach to allow him to enter the lounge as well. She needed to think of something to distract him. I don't suppose suggesting he go browsing through one of Omega's toy shops would work...

"Holy... Garrus! Boss, is that you?"

They whipped around.

A human, in armor that looked to once belong to one of Omega's menagerie of gangs but had been painted over, approached them from another part of the tenements. A broad, white smile had split his scarred-up face in two. Between those burn-marks, the armor, and the fact that his shaved hair was still growing back, they almost didn't recognize him.

"Monty!" Garrus laughed and clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Monty, by the Spirits, it is you!"

Montague wasn't having none of this arm's length crap, and he pulled Garrus in for a brutish hug, slapping the turian's back for good measure. "Goddamn, I thought you had died. Everyone said you did."

"Me? Butler said you were near the center of the blast radius that took out the Blood Pack. He figured he couldn't find your body because it'd been annihilated."

"No, but the concussive force of it did blow me into a whole different level of the station. I was out of it for a while after that, but some guys from one of the other, smaller merc groups found me and patched me up."

"I'd say that was nice of them if I didn't know that operation."

"Oh, yeah. 'We did you a favor,' this, 'do you know how close you were to dead', that, 'I'd say doing some work for us is worth your life, right?' the other. I was barely on my feet when they were forcing me to do jobs. Luckily, I was able to re-access some of your assets you, ah, abandoned, and was able to get out. They're a little sore with me, but they've stopped chasing me when I threw some creds at them."

Garrus laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm glad to hear you made it out of there. Everyone else will be ecstatic to see you're alive and okay."

"Should've known there would be others. Heard about Shepard roaming around down here and had to see for myself, but I didn't expect this." He looked over at her and grinned, a little sheepishly. "And, uh, hi, Commander."

She smirked wryly at him. Fucking saved by serendipity. "Garrus, why don't you take Montague to the Normandy to see the others? Have yourself a happy reunion, for once. I'm sure Kasumi wouldn't mind if you appropriated the bar she set up to help catch up."

He turned to her, looking torn.

"You can't come, anyway. Go on."

"Wait, just how many dead people are actually alive?" Monty cut in. "Is Shepard just some sort of mortal singularity? What the hell?"