If you're reading this, this is your fault. You know who you are. *Read title*.

Welcome All Again- By Collective Soul

It was a generally peaceful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the traffic was very, very light.

Which was a good thing, because the peace was about to be shattered into a million tiny pieces as oncoming sirens got louder and louder, and the black four-wheeler drifted around the corner. In it, several gangsters were shouting at each other, mostly about the vehicle pursuing them. Most people wouldn't think a red vintage corvette is that frightening, but when said corvette contained Normandy PD's top pair of detectives, you typically reached for the nearest sub-machine gun and immediately opened fire.

And that's what they did, as the convertible came around the corner with it's driver putting the petal to the metal. He was a turian; young, with blue colony markings, and a pair of shades from a brand that would make anyone jealous. The bandolier where his sidearm was holstered was shamelessly visible, and the web of scars on his face only further served the 'tough cop' look. Garrus Vakarian was, in his own mind, the total package.

His partner was a more exotic specimen, but also wore his weapons in full view, for Javik believed intimidation depended on initial presentation. That didn't mean he didn't have any hidden knives on his person, because one never knew when they might be captured, and disarmed of all obvious weapons. Of course, there was only so much you could do to disarm a biotic.

Which was why the bullets didn't do much to Garrus' baby, aside from bounce off the barrier the prothean had formed at the front of the vehicle.

"Javik, put a bullet up their tailpipe!" Garrus shouted over the gunfire(and the Redbone song that was playing over the radio).

"I am occupied with stopping bullets." the prothean shot back. "If you had listened to me earlier, they would be dead now!"

"Dead!?" he gave his partner a look. "Dude, we're supposed to bring them in, not kill them!"

"The Chief did not specify she wanted them alive."

"Well, when she gives us a case, you should assume she wants the criminals alive!"

"In my cycle, criminals were publicly executed."

"How about we meet halfway; you have to bring them in alive, but not necessarily in one piece."

"That can be done."

"Just make sure the neighborhood comes out in one piece; that's all Shep's asking from you guys." Kasumi's voice reminded from over the scanner.

"Hold that thought, Kas. SHORTCUT INCOMING!" Garrus swerved his car over the nearby sidewalk and through a stretch of the nearby park, cutting a significant corner, and running over a trashcan, a doggy bag station, and several highway cones as he did so. Talons working quickly, he made sure his car was facing the oncoming jeep, before pulling his sidearm, standing, and firing, Javik doing so as well.

Both the front tires of the gang ride exploded, and the prothean followed up the attack by flipping the vehicle with his biotics. It skidded past them on it's side, and Garrus hopped out as groans rose from the carnage, stroking the hood of his car with one talon, giving the paint job a quick once-over.

"Nice; not a scratch." he complimented.

""I could care less about the vehicle, turian." Javik told him, walking past and towards the gangsters. "I was focused on not being killed by your stupid ideas. SHall I rip off their arms, or just the hands?"

"Uh, neither!" Garrus removed his shades and shot him a shocked look. "We need them to have both of those in order to cuff them!"

"Fair enough." the prothean grumbled.

And so the generally peaceful morning became the start of another typical day for two of NPD's finest.

This was written on a dare. A review reply became a conversation about a Javik and Garrus buddycop situation, and how it would be a blockbuster. Out of Tricks remains out of commission due to writers block, and I've started to focus more on my Destiny fic.

This will remain as a bit of a side project. If you want pure Normandy Crew shenanigans, look for my drabble dump.

Fare Thee Well!