thearchangel | 14

Mostly? Yep.

[She tugs the door open, keeping one hand higher on the edge of it to make sure she doesn't smack herself in the face. Her chin tilts at where she thinks she heard his voice originating from, jerking it to indicate that he enter.]

Mostly...?

[Then the door opens. He stares for a minute. Tilts his head.]

This is going to sound stupid... but... what's with the mask?

[Her shoulders lift and fall, far more casual than the knot of anxiety in her gut would have Shepard be. She knows better. SHE is in control.]

No idea. I'm guessing it's decorative, though. I'm blind.

[To illustrate how far the level of 'blind' goes, she takes a hand off the door to slide the mask up on her forehead. The eye sockets are still there, but they're as smooth and eyeball-less as her cheeks.]

You're--

[It would probably help the situation much more if he didn't react badly. He should stay calm, and be rational about this.]

[... but Spirits she has no eyeballs.]

[His head jerks back, the motion looking odd on a human being, and he almost takes a few steps away, only to reign it in at the last second.]

I... damn. How the... how could that happen?

[Shepard takes in steady, easy breaths, letting herself against common sense to imagine the look on his face. He sounds human again, but it's the turian she sees.

In a manner of speaking.]

I don't know, Garrus. I woke up and I couldn't open my eyes. Then I realized that was because I didn't have any. Go figure, huh?

[Her voice is quiet-calm and smooth, joking, because she will fake it until she damn well makes it. Shepard slides the mask back on and turns toward him, jaw set.]

Edited 2012-01-23 00:22 (UTC)

Yeah...

[It comes out in more of a shaky sigh than a word. But she's alive. She's... functioning. If not intact.]

[And looks like it's not easy to be 'functioning', if the set of her jaw is any indication. He's never outright say so, but...]

Go figure.

[He touches her shoulder, first, dragging blunt human fingers lightly over it -- I'm moving my arm now. Until he can curl his hand over her cheek. Just like before.]

[If she had eyes, right now she would close them. Shepard has to settle for subconsciously softening the line of tension in her jaw, reaching for his hand, finding Garrus' knuckles and touching them hesitantly.

When she'd suffocated, out there in the great vacuum of space, the first thing to go had been her vision. Even then it wasn't this yawning absence of light or sensation; it had been stars of her very own, exploding and winking out while air escaped her suit's reserves.

It's hard not to think of that, and her grip tightens anxiously around the curve of his hand. She turns her head slightly to press her lips into his palm, dry but urgent.]

[It's... something of a relief when she touches his hand. He knows she can take care of herself. That's never been a question. She's the strongest person he knows. But that doesn't change the fact he can't stand someone's messed with her -- harmed her, in some way.]

[She's his commander. His friend. And he cares about her. It about killed him when he'd heard what happened... this is nowhere near death, but it makes something twist in him anyway -- something hot and angry and... protective.]

[He takes a step forward, swallowing heavily when she kisses -- that's a kiss, right? -- his hand. His other hand lifts, and cups her other cheek. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe he's over thinking this...]

Could be worse... you could have been krogan.

[He leans his head against hers.]

I hope you wouldn't say that in Grunt's hearing.

[That sure was a kiss, Garrus, you guessed right.

She can recognize comfort when it's offered, and she is not the type of fool to refuse in order to save face. Besides the point, she kinda maxed the vulnerability meter when she asked to see him while blinder than an eyeless bat and without the benefit of superior hearing.

What evolutionary purpose this serves, she won't presume to know.

The commander is still for a moment, quietly appreciating his presence. Then she thinks- aw, hell, why not? And re-angles herself to brush her mouth past his, inquisitive.]

Heh. I'll try and keep that in mind.

[He's not sure if he's doing any good. He's not sure if this is the right thing to do. But dammit, she's the best thing to happen to him -- as a friend, a leader, as everything. The least he can do is stand here with her and keep a literal eye out for her.]

[At first, he can't figure out what she's doing.]

[Then something in the now-human brain kicks on, and before he can overthink it, his head tilts. He leans forward once more, this time, not to lean against her, but to let this body do what it will do.]

[It's not a very good kiss. He doesn't know what he's doing. It's jerky, and awkward and maybe too closed. But it's a kiss.]

[Shepard smiles crookedly, breaking contact for a second to laugh a little.]

A for effort, Vakarian. Don't worry too much about it.

[This is something best illustrated through action, not verbal direction. Her next go is soft, uninvasive, until she takes his lower lip between her teeth in a gentle nip.]

[He can't help it. He laughs -- a short, self-depreciating sound.]

Yeah... 'cause I'm really good at 'not worrying.'

[As best he can, he tries to follow suit, moving a little closer to her. The teeth startle him. But he goes back again.]

[At least she doesn't have a three-pronged tongue. That would make this new venture a bit more challenging and probably a dozen times more awkward.

Shepard stops again, not quite moving away so as to murmur into his mouth:] Not okay?

[It would make things a lot more awkward.]

[He's dropped a hand to her waist, letting it rest on one hip -- as she'd done to him, earlier. There's a very slight shake of his head.]

It's fine... just surprised me.

[She grins a little bit at that, letting their heads rest against each other again in what she's pretty sure is the turian version of a kiss. And Shepard is okay with that. The intent communicates well.]

Okay, then.

[A thumb traces underneath his jawline in silent revelry.]

[He makes a quiet sound at that -- it's half a laugh, half a noise of approval at her touch. Though... he does tilt his head, angling her fingers away from the scars.]

[He licks his lips -- a reflex. Who knows how long this is going to last? How long before he won't be able to feel her like this? Suddenly... that's become very important to him.]

[This time, he's better at the kissing thing. It's slower, less mechanical, but no less honest, not any less wanting.]

[The next time they get this chance, it might be with the threat of anaphylaxis hanging over them. There may not even be another chance.

So she's blind and Garrus is human. He's offering and so is she. She can still show him how, and he's a fast learner, more so when the stakes are higher. Her fingers tangle through a mane of hair that she can dimly remember being brown so long ago, during another trick of the Keep. A low, pleased noise slides out of her throat.

But she breaks off-- only to press her lips here, on his chin, and there, next to his ear, and finally right there in the middle of his scar.]

[If there's one thing the whole 'suicide mission' drilled home, it's that there may very well not be any such things as 'second chances'. Ever.]

[His arm slips around her waist, bringing them closer still. He likes it. Human bodies seem to me so much more sensitive -- the softer skin feeling every touch more keenly. His thumb strokes slowly over her cheek. Not a single scratch in its wake.]

[Then he sucks in a breath, sharply, and once again tries to angle his head away from the scarring. Back to the lips.]

[She doesn't need eyes to know what's wrong.

But it is fairly difficult to discourage him from doing what he decides to do, and it would be a dirty lie to say Shepard isn't enjoying it to the nth degree. Eventually she takes ahold of him by the unscarred cheek, minding her grip automatically even though she no longer has cyborg strength.]

Garrus, hey-- [To his credit, she needs a second to form a coherent sentence.] --Just let me say I care about you. All of you. Not certain parts to the exclusion of others, all of you. That includes any mistakes you feel you've made. Trust me on that.

[She can't look at him, but Shepard can explore his body with careful, inquisitive fingertips to commit it to memory, avoiding the scarred half of his face until he gives the go-ahead.]

You might be human now, but all that means to me is that we don't have to be extra careful. Remember that we talked about this first as a turian and a human, and I wouldn't have it any other way or think to change who you are.

Edited 2012-01-23 07:57 (UTC)

[When she starts speaking, he realizes he's actually breathing quickly, and it feels, oddly enough, as if the temperature has climbed. His face feels hot. Damn...]

[He tilts his head into her hand, relaxing somewhat, now that the focus is off the mangled half of his face. She can't see it, but his eyes are focused on her, and her alone -- half-lidded though they may be.]

Yeah... I do. Wouldn't be here if I didn't.

[While her fingers roam, his hand slips to the small of her back, thumb making idle circles over her cheek.]

... It's not that. I... hell, part of me wants... I would. Right now. I wouldn't regret a thing.

[That hand on her cheek finds its way up to tangle carefully in her hair.]

I care about you... too. Remember?

[Shepard smiles, light and quick and open.]

Yeah, I remember.

[Ingrained habit of weighing the pros and cons of every action before she takes it briefly interrupts the nice little vacation she very dearly wants to take.

Pros of taking this further: the obvious stress relief that they both could use, honestly. Mutual attraction, mutual trust coming to a head. A distraction and a way to prove that neither of them will allow something like an impromptu transformation to interfere with how they feel or taking action.

That list goes on. The cons are considerably fewer. Yes, Shepard is blind, but she can hear, taste, and feel just as well as she had the day prior. So can he.

And with their terms already laid out on the table, nothing else can really stop them.]

Ready if you are, soldier.

[Dammit, he likes seeing that smile. He likes it a lot -- it's crooked, and it's real, and it's her. What he abandoned everything for, what he tried so hard to be... what he truly cares for.]

[That she's willing -- that means a lot. He believes what she's telling him, and believes it completely. Still, he can feel his heart beating faster when she speaks, while she thinks. Given their surroundings, this... may be their only chance. Nothing's attacking, no one's missing. They can be selfish.]

[When she answers, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in -- it's half a laugh, half a sigh, and out of long, ingrained habit, he presses his cheek against hers.]

... I... Yeah, I think I am.

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