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Thane Krios had been in the middle of the room, hands only holding themselves and back presented in leathers that brought sin to mind. Of course, you hadn’t known his name. Circles and spheres and redundancies had kept his name a whisper that changed in sound and shape long before they could have ever reached your ear. Still; Thane Krios. Back vulnerable and hands empty. You were quick enough, even then, even after 80 hours of stem-prescribed never-quite-enough-but-needs-to-do alertness, even after adrenalin had filtered cold and hard to gut and the Doc had taken to prescribing something else entirely – you were quick enough.
Professional curtesy, clearly. Or Liara. Probably Liara. But this is a thought that comes after; right then you took the shot. He went down.
Master Assassin. The very best. And you shot him in the back. You don’t care what anyone says about this; you're badass Shepard and took him down with a surprise attack. Stealth. That had taken a lot of stealth. And Kasumi had despaired.
You called for disposal, you called to bitch, you called out to Garrus and hadn’t had to raise your voice. Widow Maker in hand he had come from the back; toed the Drell.
“Thought you said it was clear,” because this isn’t something that he normally missed.
He messed with his omni.
“T’Soni,” was all he said. “Fucking T’Soni.”
***
“Shepard, this was meant to be an introduction.”
“He's yours then?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s a lasting impression.”
“Shepard.”
“Liara, if you don’t want me to shoot unwelcomed, unexpected guests, you should warn me. You called. You said it was urgent. I took you at your word.”
“Shepard.”
“It’s not paranoia when the galaxy is actually out to get you.”
“No one knows about this place but us.”
“Clearly no longer true.”
“I invited him.”
“I live here. Well. I could live here. I own this place. This is my house. You told me I needed to get planet-side immediately. You did not say, ‘Hey Shepard, I’ve delivered something extra nice, enjoy unwrapping him.’ You did not say, ‘Hey Shepard, I’ve sent an Agent to your home.’ You did not say ‘Hey Shepard, you’ve company mesmerized by the wall-sized Pollock reproduction.’ You did not say, ‘Hey Shepard, I’ve tweaked your IFF, don’t shoot the Drell.’ And while we’re on that, why would you even, I mean, really. Why? Why are you bringing me strange men? What happened to R and D and new shiny weapons? Liara, I like new shiny weapons.”
“He is, much like, a new shiny weapon."
"Liara."
"A master assassin, even."
"Liara. I can kill things quite well on my own. With a gun. With a new gun. With a new shiny gun from your techies in R and D."
"Shepard."
"Liara."
"He’s, he is to be Vakarian’s relief.”
“And does Garrus know about this?”
There was silence over the comm. Garrus did not, in fact, know about this. That was one seriously pissed off Turian tying company to a chair. What gentleness he had exerted morphed into taloned fury. You did not envy the Drell his wake-up. Not at all.
“Liara.” You like to think it was the tone that did it; gave pause and warning and demanded an answer right-this-second-or-else. You know it wasn’t.
Still, you could hear the huff of frustration and she practically muttered: “Garrus has become quite deft at ignoring my summons.”
“So you drop an Urgent Mission Triple Red Flag onto us?”
“I had thought to impress you with his skill. He's, he is the best.”
And finally, Garrus responded. Said the first words to Liara in two and a half years: “I’m not leaving, T’Soni.”
The sub-vocals should have been impossible to pick up; but the impossible is something you’re all good at now. The base rumble probably shouldn’t be such a distraction, really, not when you consider the invasion of privacy and the sudden Drell and a secret haven no longer safe to retreat to after long hours and many days fighting a war across the universe. But it is. Damn him.
Well, you've never been accused of an appropriate since of timing.