The inappropriately cheerful elevator music was interrupted periodically by the terrified sobs of the kidnapped asari front desk receptionist. Currently she was squirming fitfully in the grip of the eerily immobile drell assassin who could have passed himself as a statue. Garrus was still trying to blink the tears from the riot gas out of his eyes, his mind numb from trying to comprehend the exact situation they found themselves in. Off in the distance gunfire could be heard echoing form the floors above punctuated occasionally with the sound of an explosive ordinance going off. At least Zaeed sounded like he was having fun.

"Thane, what the hell are we going to do?" the turian moaned as he rubbed fitfully at his irritated eyes.

"No names!" snapped back the drel impatiently with a pointed look at the asari wailing at his feet.

"Alright then 007," snarked back Garrus, "what the hell do we do?!"

"We're going to split up. I'm going to head to the archive room to remove the physical copy while you find a terminal to remotely wipe their uploaded feeds. If we're lucky no one made a backup and nothing has been posted on the extranet yet," replied Thane in his usual composed manner.

The turian renegade nodded, but then paused as he gave it more thought. "Wait, how do you know they have a backup copy?"

Even through the assassin's face mask Garrus could make out the man's grimace. "There was a hit placed on a hanar here about twenty years ago. The asari involved in this industry as a maiden had decided to go into politics in her matron years and wanted all evidence of her past as an exotic actress removed."

"That hardly calls for an assassin," said Garrus skeptically.

Thane shrugged. "She also wanted her old working partners removed so they could not potentially blackmail her."

"You assassinated a porn star."

There was a brief silence as both men contemplated that statement.

"I had just become a freelancer and wasn't very well known yet," admitted Thane sheepishly. "I took what job I could to feed the family."

Garrus threw his hands up in the air. "I don't want to know man. I don't want to know. What the hell do we do with the asari?"

Their captive began to wail louder as the exceedingly slow elevator finally ground to a halt and parted its doorway. From the way she was screaming it seemed likely she had convinced herself that they were going to rape and murder her. Or maybe murder than rape her if the volume of her bawling was any indications.

"Mam," began Garrus in his best C-sec reassurance voice. He'd done it hundreds of times, maintain eye contact and keep your voice calm and level. "I'm going to need you to calm down. We're not going to harm you."

Noticing Thane grimly fingering his pistol, Garrus glared at his companion. "I repeat. We are not going to harm you."

The asari remained deaf to the turian's reassurance as her crying escalated to ear-piercing volumes. It probably didn't help that Thane looked menacing as hell in all white, like some spectral entity come to remove a person's soul for past wrong deeds committed.

An irritated snap of the pistol butt in Thane's hand rendered the asari unconscious. Her sobs ceased as her body went limp, drooping in the assassin's grip like a limp noodle.

"Great," complained Garrus in a bitter tone. "We can add battery and assault to our list of crimes now too. Thanks Thane."

"I think that's the least of our worries given that Zaeed is currently engaged with Illium police forces," commented the assassin dryly.

Sighing to himself, Garrus gently turned over the asari into a more comfortable position as he helped lower her to the floor. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that. Chances were they were going to end up in jail before the day was out, might as well get this done and over with.

"You know where the archives are?"

"Yes."

"I'll get into the mainframe remotely then. Meet you back here in ten?"

Seeing the drell nod, the turian turned to find a terminal he could hack into, but jerked to a halt when Thane grabbed him by the collar of his armor.

"Wait, you can't go out like that."

"What?"

"There are cameras inside. We can't be recognized!"

"Well what the hell do you want me to do about it? I don't exactly walk around with a mask in my pocket like you two."

The drell stooped down next to the unconscious asari lifting her dress up and peering beneath.

"What the hell are you doing Thane?!" demanded Garrus.

The assassin stood back up after having removed the pantyhose stocking from the receptionist's left leg.

"Put this over your head," he replied tersely.

Garrus stared at the limp elastic material in Thane's hand. It looked reminiscent of a nonlethal but horribly embarrassing intestinal parasite native to Palaven. If that wasn't enough, it also reeked with the pungent scent of cheap perfume, the kind that hit the nostrils so strong it left a burning aftertaste in the mouth.

"I'm not putting that on my head," the turian replied flatly. "I don't care if the entire galaxy recognizes me. That is not going over my face."

"Garrus," snapped Thane impatiently. "We don't' have time for this. If we are recognized there might be issues with the authority that even Shepard's spectre status might not be able to get us out of. Illium doesn't exactly subscribe to Citadel authority."

The turian batted aside the drell's hand as the man approached him with the offending article of clothing. What followed was a minute of wrestling and yelling as the two men tussled about in front of the elevator, Thane trying to forcibly place the nylon material over his companion's face while Garrus tried valiantly to avoid it.

"Umm… are we shooting a vid here?"

Both men froze on the floor in a rather compromising position. Garrus was flat on his back with the pantyhose pulled over his fringe and halfway down his face while Thane was straddling his stomach. Sometime during their fight Garrus's pants had been loosened and were halfway off his waist along with a bit of his undergarments. The drell's leather jacket had been torn open in their scuffle and his tight scaly eight pack was exposed for the world to see.

The asari standing in the hallway holding two cups of steaming liquid in hand never even got to scream as the concussive shot from Garrus's pistol took her full on in the face.

"Get off me!" growled the turian as both men struggled to their feet.

"It's already on," snapped Thane while smoothing out his ruffled clothing. "Keep it on and let's get on with it."

Muttering unpleasant curses at the retreating assassin's back, Garrus sighed and pulled the nylon material further down his face until it covered his neck. He probably looked like a varren's ass at the moment, but maybe he won't be recognized between his altered clan markings and the stupid pantyhose over his head. Right and maybe the council will give them a call tomorrow apologizing for the horrible misunderstanding about the reapers along with a recommendation for a medal for everyone on board the Normandy.

"Solona's probably gonna find a video of this and send it to dad," grumbled Garrus as he began to haphazardly check random rooms to see if there was an active terminal he could hack into. Most of the rooms he barged into were filled with strange props and some tasteless costumes. One room had been shooting a rather stomach turning scene between an elcor and a hanar with an unfortunate human sandwiched somewhere in the middle. It had taken a lot of effort not to shoot everyone inside. Either that or eat the gun himself.

Garrus was just about ready to kidnap an employee to figure out where he needed to go when he finally found what he was looking for. Unfortunately it was also happened to be the room with the only two guards in the building.

"Hands on your head!" screamed one of the nameless Fornax employees as his companion opened fire with his avenger assault rifle.

"You're supposed to say that before you shoot jackass!" bellowed back Garrus from behind the desk he had dived behind the second he saw the guns pointed at him.

"I won't ask again! Come out with your hands on your head!" The gunfire did not cease even as the man shouted his shrill command.

"Fucking amateur," grumbled Garrus as he loaded another concussive shot into his pistol. "Come out with my hands on my head to get shot, right. Brilliant idea."

Popping out from behind cover, the turian drew a bead on the guard who was busy reloading his rifle. The pulse of concussive forced nailed him straight in the chest, sending the unfortunate human soaring backwards into a data terminal, slamming his head against the metal panels.

"Boom bitch!" Rolling over to another piece of cover, Garrus swore viciously as his shield sparkled from near hits, his HUD flashing insistently while screaming protest in his ears. It was one of those things Garrus had never understood. Why in the hell would you blind and deafen someone while trying to warn them that their life was in imminent danger?

As he was loading another concussive shot into his pistol, his omni-tool began to chime, alerting him to an incoming call. Ignoring the barrage of gunfire tearing his piece of cover to bits, he chanced a glance down to see that it was from Miranda. Well that was rather unusual, but at this point contact from anyone was good news.

Before he could accept the call a pulse of energy jolted through his body sending his body into twitching spasms. Howling rage filled curses laced with profanities unfit for civilized ears, the turian struggled against his twitching body to answer the call only to find his omnitool in a scrambled frenzy. Clenching his teeth, he pushed through the pain from the overload and popped out of cover to blast the remaining guard off his feet before crumbling to the floor himself.

When he could finally taste his tongue again, Garrus pushed himself back onto his feet and chanced a look at his omnitool. For once his luck seemed to have held out and the device wasn't destroyed, just momentarily scrambled. He quickly punched in the dial back feature, only to receive an out of service tone.

Pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the sudden resurgence of his headache, Garrus exhaled heavily after holding his breath for a moment. Nothing he could do about it now but to get one with it. If he thought about it too long he might do something he'd regret later, a growing list that definitely didn't need adding to.

Heading over to one of the few terminals that hadn't been destroyed by the two trigger happy rent-a-cops, Garrus plopped down on the shredded chair and began hacking into the mainframe. Utilizing one of the programs he had "borrowed" from Tali's omnitool, he quickly broke through the firewalls in place. As the wrist held computer ran the random password generator to try to bypass the final system lock, Garrus received a voicemail message.

Glancing down at the sender, he rolled his eyes when he saw it was Miranda. Damn lagging piece of shit. They had the ability to travel from one point to another millions of light years away almost instantaneously, yet they still couldn't get a voicemail message through in time. Goes to show just how inefficient corporations made life in the name of commerce.

There was no video accompanying the message which was rather unusual, but not unheard of. After a few seconds of static the message began to play back.

"Gar-garr-garus. It's me buddy. J- *hick* John."

"Shepard," Garrus breathed. Damn it was good to hear his voice, even if it was completely inebriated.

"Man, I go-gotta tell you some-som-something. Mig-ht not remember tomorrow *hick*

It was obvious that the commander was extremely intoxicated, something Garrus had seen on more than one occasion while they had been on Omega. The fact that Katsumi had turned her room into a bar had not helped the commander with his small problem with alcohol, though luckily the cybernetics Cerberus had implanted managed to keep the man from becoming a full on alcoholic. If only the Illusive Man knew what use his four billion dollar investment was really being put towards.

"Get this man," slurred the commander. "You know how Randa has the TIM on her personal call list?"

It wasn't a hidden fact that Miranda Lawson had been right hand of the Illusive Man. The fact that she seemed to have changed sides had helped her integrate with the Normandy crew, but she had still kept up appearances so that it wouldn't interfere with the mission when it came to reporting back to Cerberus HQ.

"I totally sent him a dick pick man!"

Garrus slapped a three fingered hand into his face as his friend broke down into hysterics. This was not helping them smooth things over with the terrorist leader after nuking the collector facility when he had explicitly demanded they save. Cerberus assault teams were probably already on their way to the Normandy after that little prank.

"John, what are you doing?" The unmistakable sleepy voice of the second in command on the Normandy sounded bleary and more than a little drunk.

"Jus-st sending Garrus a message babe."

"Come back to bed," she whined softly, completely out of character for the normally stone faced XO.

The sound of rustling sheets echoed through the speaker of Garrus's omni, followed by giggles and soft erotic moans. He quickly closed the message when the rhythmic smacking of flesh on flesh followed escalating cries of pleasure from the normally unflappable Cerberus operative began to issue through the speakers.

"Way too much info there John," mumbled Garrus. With Miranda's omni apparently nonoperational, he wouldn't be able to track down their location, but at least he knew they were alive. And continuing the party apparently.

"I guess you've earned it buddy," chuckled the turian. "I got this one."

The password decryption program was on the last letter out six when Garrus's omni once more chimed, though this time the number was not registered on his contact list. Hitting the accept button, the multifunctional tool projected out an image of an irate looking Jack above his wrist.

"Jack!" Garrus exclaimed in surprise. The convict was the last person he expected to contact him; she wasn't exactly what one would call the responsible sorts. "Damn am I glad to see you."

The tiny headshot of the inked convict squinted up at Garrus from his arm, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Garrus is that you? What the fuck do you have on your head?"

Swearing, the turian tore the offending pantyhose off his face. "Not important. Where the hell are you?"

"I'll tell you where I am! I'm in the fucking slammer that's where! Shepard's not picking up the goddamn phone and I sure as hell ain't calling Lawson to bail me out. Perfect little princess would never let me live this down!"

The convict and the former Cerberus operative had become much more amicable after having fought side by side against the overwhelming hordes of collector back in the base they had blown up, but they weren't exactly best friends either.

"Where are you Jack? I'll come get you as soon as I'm finished here."

But the convict wasn't listening, bulling on with her rant which had most probably been building up for quite some time now judging at the rate she was shouting at.

"I got the frog doc in here with me! I don't know what the hell we hit up last night, but he's talking even faster than normal and making even less sense. He keeps trying to touch me and shit! I swear to god if he pokes me one more time I'm decking him, I don't care what Shepard says. I told him to call someone, but the dumbass used his one phone call to order pizza! And they wouldn't even let us eat the damn thing either!The old biotic witch is here too, don't know what the hell happened to her top, her tits are hanging out for the world to see and nobody seems to be in a hurry to help her cover them up. She's still passed out from our bender last night, drooling all over the damn bench and shit. Gotta say she's got a nice pair though, for a grandma anyways. What the hell happened Garrus? And the fuck did you do to your face paint?"

"Jack," groaned the turian, "Look we don't have time for this. I'm in a bit of a bind here. Zaeed's off shooting the police and Thane's running around in full ruthless assassin mode. Give me your address and we'll come pick you up. We'll figure out damage control after we round up the rest of the gang."

"Big Z's shooting people? Shit, Shepard's not gonna be happy about this."

"Oh trust me," muttered Garrus as he ruthlessly quashed the memories of the noise he had heard from John's last voice message. "I think he's probably very happy right now."

"Look- just"

"Your minutes up convict," interrupted the rasping growl of a batarian that was currently off screen. "Back in the cell!"

The image of Jack turned as she screamed back profanities at the officer, showing a brand new tattoo she had apparently gotten on the back of her skull the night before. Garrus squinted at the fuzzy image and made out what appeared to be a rather detailed image of a smirking Joker. Oh boy. Hopefully Jack wouldn't notice anytime soon and no one would say anything. Not until they had Joker under protective custody anyways.

"Fuck you, you piece of four eyed shit! I'll call as long as I want!"

The camera shot began to roll and tilt frantically as the biotic's vulgar verbal abuse at the officer was interrupted by a krogan bellow and what appeared to be an all-out fist fight. The camera waved about and Garrus made out random shots of a snarling three eyed batarian, a vorcha swinging a flashlight about like a club and frightened volus with a pair of handcuffs dangling limply in hand.

"Jack!" shouted Garrus into his omnitool. "What's the address?!"

But only more shouts and the chaotic sounds of brawling answered the turian before the feed cut out altogether.

"Brilliant," he muttered dropping his head into his hands. Seeing one of the guards groaning and regaining his senses, Garrus took vicious pleasure in stomping the unfortunate man's head back into the land of unconsciousness.

A chirping noise alerted him that the password had been broken through.

"Really? Penis? What type of moron-" he muttered under his breath in disbelief. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Surfing through the copious amounts of pornography dating back almost two hundred years, Garrus finally managed to find the file he was looking for.

"Come here you little bugger," muttered Garrus as he selected the file titled Normandy: Tasting the Forbidden Fruits.

Garrus felt some of the tension leave his body as the records indicated it had not been uploaded to the extranet yet. They had gotten there in time. But as he set about to purge the video file, he couldn't help but hesitate. Thane was off burning the physical copy, so this was the last recorded evidence of exactly what happened between him and Tali. Once he deleted it there would be no way to ever know whether they had actually done anything together. It was probably for the best, but shouldn't he at least take a look before he deleted it? What harm could it there be?

As the little voice in the back of his head poked at his curiosity his finger unconsciously hit the copy function, saving the video onto his personal files on his omnitool. Well that decided it; he would make up his mind later. Shaking himself out of his stupor, the turian quickly deleted the digital file of his sinful transactions and breathed a sigh of relief. There, problem solved.

The urgent buzz from his comlink had his hand answering his shortwave instinctively out of years of practice.

"Garrus here."

"We have a problem," rasped Thane.

The turian felt his heart sink at hearing the drell's words. Life could never be this easy.

"Of course we do. What's wrong?"

"I got to the archives but the disc wasn't there. I've interrogated one of the workers here and presumably the CEO of Fornax personally removed the copy to take back to her home for personal use."

"You're telling me the CEO of Fornax has the physical copy of the video?"

"Unfortunately yes. And she is set to leave the planet in three hours, headed to the Citadel for some convention or another. We'll need to intercept her before she leaves planet side or we'll never stop the upload."

Swearing Garrus gave the terminal a good kick, wincing as his toe hit at an awkward angle.

"God damn it alright. Meet you back at the elevator."

"Understood. Thane out."

Hobbling out of the server room, Garrus swore to himself underneath his breath as the pain in his foot didn't recede. Just his luck, he probably fractured the damn thing.

"You better be enjoying yourself John," grumbled the turian darkly as he limped towards the rendezvous point.