You do not have to be a pleasant person to be a hero.

In fact, most heroes are very, very, very unpleasant people and do not make decent human beings.

Enjoy.

KINGDOM OF RUST

CHESS

It takes an ocean of trust if you are going to survive long hours traveling between solar systems.
Moments between Garrus and Shepard before the Omega 4 Relay mission.

"You know Commander," Garrus started, his deep voice rattling the interior of his armor. "If you had taken your sweet time running chores, borrowing heat sinks, and shopping instead of recruiting me on Omega ... I might be a dead turian right now. Granted, I'd probably get some rest for a change... Buuut, I'd still be dead."

Traveling between solar systems in deep space often had its drawbacks. Even if the mass effect relays could snap a ship from the Terminus system to the Citadel before you could hum all three minutes of Thessia's universally loved pop song 'Bop Blue Booty', the flights to outlier solar systems frequently took hours. The time before arrival often bred anxiety on the Normandy, especially with dreams of the collectors haunting the crew. So to stave off boredom, the crew spent their attention on mundane and less exciting tasks. The mess sergeant started to experiment on alien dishes with ingredients that didn't quite match up, calling it 'Fusion Cuisine' as if the nasty mixture's taste improved with lofty titles. Samara spent long hours in the observation room, meditating and frequently ignoring the commander's inquiries. Grunt and Jack had torn up the lower decks, attempting to fight in close quarters in an unending war to prove who was the better fighter (though Shepard quickly put a stop to these brawls after they knocked EDI's comm link offline by accident. The accident almost killed an unsuspecting engineering crew, who were participating in a private poetry club when the hull very nearly opened into space).

Even Garrus, patient, calm, collected, easy to please Garrus was beginning to bore himself studying the Normandy's weapon calibration systems.

Truth be told, he had studied the damn thing so acutely he was starting to name off numbers and canon statistics faster than EDI was able to retrieve the information.

He would know.

He tested EDI recently.

Despite how boring calibrations were, Garrus stubbornly fixed himself to the mundane task. It was his form of meditation, and an excellent excuse to be anti-social. With nothing to do, most of the crew members resorted to sleeping, exercising, researching, or meditating. Thankfully, Garrus's idea of meditating was calibrating in silence.

Perhaps feeding off of the crew's anxiety and frustrations, Commander Foucault Shepard tried buying her time by spending several hours mostly intimidating the crew. Often, she'd walk by, proceed to start a conversation, then end it abruptly by telling each person to stop wasting their time and to do something useful for the mission. And like the true hypocrite Shepard frequently was, she'd proceed to waste her own time by drinking with Doctor Chakwas, or asking for crew background checks, or picking her nails while Zaeed (A former Blue Suns merc that Garrus did not like very much) went on and on and on telling long winded stories that frequently resulted in how he survived after someone else died.

Though, lately, nerves buzzed on high static after the Salarian, Dr. Mordin Solus, started to tear apart the Reaper IFF. Maybe Shepard's reason for kicking back and doing unimportant shit was just to relax her own nerves. Or maybe she really was just a hypocrite. That's what the crew always wondered.

But truthfully, Garrus knew that Shepard was waiting for Dr. Mordin to decipher the Reaper IFF, the final piece of the Omega 4 puzzle.

He knew it. But he didn't say anything, unlike every other damn crew member who always did their damndest to talk to Shepard. About anything. Including the weather.. or Reaper IFFs.

Maybe that's why Foucault decided to spend some of her time hiding away from the crew. Maybe that's why Shepard would meet Garrus, pull him away from his station, sit down in his quarters and teach him how to play a human game she called 'Chess'. You know, just... biding time. Not that he minded. It was that or calibrating, and he was sick of callibrating weapons systems.

When it came to chess, the rules were simple yet the strategies behind the human game were complex. Garrus Vakarian was surprised that humans were capable of creating such a universally appealing war game. Within a few days of practice, the turian applied his strategic insight across the board and even started to challenge the commander on equal tier.

Garrus started to love chess. The game satisfied his turian sensibilities. If he survived this Omega 4 relay mission, he imagined teaching his sister how to play and perhaps he would market the game to other family members. Vakarian had an odd feeling chess would catch on very quickly among his people.

"You know Commander," Garrus started, his deep voice rattling the interior of his armor. "If you had taken your sweet time running chores, borrowing heat sinks, and shopping instead of recruiting me on Omega ... I might be a dead turian right now. Granted, I'd probably get some rest for a change... Buuut, I'd still be dead."

"Right. Because taking the time to save your sorry rogue ass was on the top of my priority list," Foucault Shepard muttered bitterly, pushing her pawn one space up to block an attack on her queen.

Officer Vakarian smiled, relaxing his side cheek plates as his nostrils flared slightly.

Commander Shepard raised her brows in response, pursing her lips and flicking her wrist.

Spending long hours together on battle and in private started to expose body language unique between Garrus and Shepard. The turian noticed he began to exhibit some strange habits, such as facial mimicry specific to human emotion. For one, turians do not smile with their faces like humans do. Typically, when a turian expresses some pleasure or joy, they push their weight onto their toes and step backward while turning their heads, creating a low rattle few species can detect audibly. These days however, Garrus started to notice he would relax his mandibles and reveal his teeth, mimicking a human grin - or what he thought was a human grin. Likewise, Shepard borrowed a few turian language cues. The human lacked important physical features like cheek plates or an exoskeleton, so she often exaggerated her movement and puffed her cheeks to get certain points across. Then again, as the Commander was spending more time with aliens, Garrus noticed she was beginning to adopt a wide field of expressions that were not just specifically turian.

When Shepard was feeling sick or tired, her posture would stiffen and she would shift her weight backwards like the quarians.

When flustered, the commander's words picked up pace and her head tilted, uniquely salarian.

And when she was pissed off.. well... there was a reason why she was known among krogans as 'Urdnot Shepard'.

The thought of Shepard insulting a blood pack gang member by whip lashing her head into the krogan's chest forced an untimely chuckle.

"You think its funny, Garrus?" Shepard growled. "I risked the entire goddamn galaxy to pull your stupid hard tinned plate out of a deadly three-way mercenary zone. And you find that amusing?"

The turian reposed, and wisely decided not to inform the human why he actually laughed.

But seriously, the state of her neck and head injuries after she decided that hitting a living boulder with her head was a brilliant idea... It was a laugh.

"No no no, not at all Shepard," Garrus began, his rasped words turning pleasant.

"To be frank with you," Officer Vakarian coughed, drawing a deep breath through his nostrils and rattling his chest. "I never planned on an exit strategy at Omega." Three fingers delicately plucked the pawn from place, pushing his bishop face to face with the commander's ebony queen.

Sharp, luminescent eyes peered up, amused at Shepard's sudden impression of his game tactic. Her face was cold, her lips were thin, a wall of ice had suddenly swallowed her expressionless. Shepard was either winning or losing, and Garrus could only play the same damn poker face in retaliation. Which was becoming harder, since his commander was having an easier time detecting turian expressions and vice versa. Chess had become more and more interesting with each play - they frequently paid attention to each other more than the game itself. As if attempting to read the other's mind by deciphering subtle body motions. Was she forcing a turian expression? Was it sincere? Did Garrus mean to grin like a human? Or is he grinning intentionally like a turian, because he knows that Shepard is capable of reading his natural body language? It was a game on many levels.

"What are you talking about?" Shepard muttered, glaring at the chess pieces, grey eyes flickering constantly between the carved blocks. Her gaze bore into Garrus' face, pausing as they searched his stoic expression before returning to the game.

Thumbing the board, the Commander went on the defense and pulled the Queen backward, exposing Garrus' rook to the brutalities of a bishop. Well then, she may win again it seems.

Garrus' strategy was to remain on the offense, reading the board in a way unique to turians, even going as so far to rename the pieces individually. When Shepard explained why humans simplified the game's terminology by naming each piece after a symbol of archaic human power (Queen, King, Knight, Rook, Bishop, Pawn), the turian simply could not wrap his head around those titles. At least, from his perspective as a turian, each individual chess piece served a very specific function in the game regardless of whether or not they were shaped the same way. For example: The rook that seated on the king's side served a different purpose than the rook on the queen's side. And pawns... Why did the humans choose to name all eight of the blocking pieces 'pawns'? Especially since the pawn in front of the king held such a vital role. If that piece did not move, then the queen and the king's bishop would remain stationary. Garrus tried to explain this to Shepard, and attempted to convince her that they rename the pieces by turian military rank (Chot, Chilker, Farit, Forit, or at least sixteen uniquely named roles as opposed to all three hundred sixty one). She wouldn't have it, stating simply that it was a human game that was entitled to stick by its own rules and that Garrus was insulting her species by trying to change the names. He relented, but privately renamed the pieces anyways.

Back in the game, the turian swiftly collected the Queen's Knight (Chot) and knocked over her bishop (Farit). It was a foolish play lacking persuasion or afterthought, but Garrus was getting somewhere here. He was inching towards progress. And he knew he was winning when Shepard flinched. It really didn't matter if this conversation or if the game were etching at the woman's cold exterior, either way he knew today he would be marked as champion of chess or discussion.

"You really think that I intended on surviving that day, Shepard?" The turian sighed, another human expression. "I maybe in over my head at times, but I'm not stupid. Aggressive, yes. Stupid? No. Never."

"Then why." The room bellied in tension at those words, human eyes trained on turian pupils. The chess game was momentarily ignored for an exchange of words.

Well, now Garrus knew was sure he was winning both at chess and the conversation.

"Why did you do it? Answer me straight, 'Archangel'. Why the hell did you think throwing your life away to knock some mercenary brains against the wall was the best idea in the whole goddamn world? For someone who claims cleverness, THAT was very, very stupid," Shepard concluded briskly.

Patience was a blessing, a trait Garrus was well known for. The commander's short temper was reflected back by Vakarian's peaceful sensibilities. He smiled, unconsciously reflecting human emotions of sincerity as best a turian could. Looking down at the board briefly, his expression reduced itself to something a bit more awkward.

"It is hard to tell but.." He muttered uncomfortably, his thick plated skin bristling with nerves. Aw hell, his game methods were going to space now.

"Try." Shepard snapped bluntly, crossing both arms under her breasts as her glare penetrated an off turned glance.

Garrus took a deep breath, and finally gained the nerve to swallow the intensity of his commander's gaze. Fire, anger, and malice met something that was certainly pathetic in comparison. Typically turians did not know how to express sincerity. Bluntness, yes. Sincerity? That was a human emotion, and one Garrus had to adopt in order to cross the bridge between their species. "Because dammit, after you died I had nothing left."

A brutal silence followed the surprising confession. Shepard's gaze unwavered. His sincerity became something more passionate, unconsciously expressing himself in a more turian like matter. Behaving 'human' was becoming tiresome, even if it was for the sake of communication.

"Nothing. I lost my ship, my crew, my hopes, and my dreams within two years," Garrus voice fell into lower registers, producing a buzzing noise in his chest plate that expressed a complex emotion akin to human sadness-despair-confession-forgiveness-growing-impatience, "I suddenly didn't care about my spectre dreams. I didn't care about anything. I tried to care, Shepard. I gave it my best shot."

Garrus' jaw snapped as his emotions shifted. He had been patient and calm for a long time, but Shepard's repeated visits, the completion of his loyalty mission, and the acceptance of the suicide mission started to rattle his inner sense of peace. "I tried again. I followed your example, I even created my own crew. But I got careless, I saw them torn down and ruined by Sidonis. They were tortured and murdered, and I was entirely to blame. I was a horrible leader."

"Garrus.." Shepard warned.

"It dawned on me, Shepard," Garrus continued, ignoring his commander's warning. "It dawned on me that it wasn't just Sidonis who killed my men." Garrus dropped his head, teeth biting the following words. "It was my lack of focus, my lack of integrity, my inability to see a rat for what it was. I might as well just have handed Sidonis the murder weapon and lined my men up for the shot. I was so careless. You see, I ruined the lives of my team mates because I could NOT stay focused. Because, while I looked up to you, ultimately.. I wasn't you."

"Garrus, we have been over this." The commander muttered, brows knit in frustration. "What have I told you? What have I always told everyone? Keep your personal life separate from your professional activities. You fuck up wars if you get to close to people-"

"Shepard, for god's sake, let me finish." The turian interrupted suddenly, sending the woman backward in pause. Speaking out of turn surprised Garrus, the low hum buzzing in his chest suddenly silenced. Instead of reprimanding him (as Garrus expected), Shepard instead remained calm. One hand placed over the other, coolly watching the turian from across the chess board. She shifted her weight, dropping her shoulder as her jaw tensed and nostrils flared slightly. It was a strange, unconscious gesture that Garrus had never seen a human borrow before, one very specific to turians, and an expression she must have unknowingly copied from him. It suggested subordination, as if saying 'I am listening, I shall be silent, and I value your words'.

Collecting himself for a moment, Garrus cleared his throat. "Thank you," He tilted his head, maintaining strong eye contact out of respect as he continued. "I know you told me not to get close, I remember how you reminded me that its easier not to make friends when you may have to command a soldier's death, I know that, I know that, by god I know that. I did nothing but follow in your foot steps, study your principles, your strategies, Your... uhm... friendly disposition, but I made a very serious mistake. I did find a friend... No, more than a friend... I found a partner, a damn good partner, and when my partner died, my focus was decimated just as you warned me. I was like this game. I was this Chess game without a strategy. How could I bare to give a damn about my life after that?"

There was a respectful silence, and then ... "Partner?" Shepard inquired tensely, lifting a brow.

"Yes, my partner. When my partner died, I was.. essentially.. worthless."

His brief explanation did little to answer Shepard's inquiry. She repeated herself in a different direction, "You never told me you had a partner. Who was it?"

Garrus rolled his eyes - exceptionally human like, but it had to be expressed to avoid further miscommunication between them. Either Shepard was playing coy or Garrus really didn't know how to effectively talk to humans without being outright blunt. "You. You. Of course you."

Slightly out of breath, Garrus stirred a bit with eyes fixed on the woman in front of him. There. He said it. He confessed, and Shepard's lapse of silence merely reinforced Garrus' feelings. Now was the best time to reveal them.

"You brought me up," Vakarian confessed, slowly and methodically. "You gave me purpose. I have followed in your footsteps since the day you delivered me from C-Sec. I tried to behave less turian. I tried to adopt your personal human beliefs of keeping people at arms length, even comrades. I thought I achieved your principles, but when you were killed, I... lost direction. In my attempt to keep distant, I inadvertently felt close to you." Garrus' head shook. "I am no leader, Commander, but I do follow. I was prepared to die with honor on Omega doing what I do best. And just as I was about to end my life, you crashed into the wake. My purpose for living returned and the funeral was canceled. I still feel sorry for some of the invited guests who expected flowers and got napalm to the face... but never mind that."

"..." The commander's lips narrowed. Garrus knew she disliked personal confessions. He knew she walked away from 'personal bullshit' when she could. He always assumed that maybe too many people died in her life for her to get close. But Shepard's reception of his words concreted an important underlying fact: no matter the distance Shepard tried to create, Garrus - for whatever reason - was able to bridge it.

Even if it meant tricking her.

"You baited me," Shepard started, glaring in accusation. "You have been waiting to confess this to me since we picked you up."

"No, no. Not until you helped me kill Sidonis, but I'll give you some credit for close guess work," Garrus shrugged.

The commander rolled her eyes, "Whatever."

"Listen Shepard," Garrus whispered seriously. "I didn't bait you. You asked. I only answered your question."

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow speculatively.

"Granted..." Garrus continued. "I've been waiting for a very ... very good opportunity to talk to you about this subject matter... and maybe some baiting was involved but.. that is beyond us. You did ask the question and who am I but to answer to my commanding officer?"

The woman rolled her eyes again. Garrus was certain this was a human signal for nerves, considering Shepard's repetition. He may have to clarify later.

"I've known you too long now, Shepard. You are a strong human with a sharp mind. You've saved galactic life not once.. but twice now. Unlike any other alien I've ever met, you treat everyone.. Regardless of species, gender, or if they are even synthetic life, completely and absolutely equally." Garrus paused to think on this. And then added, "Not.. In the kindest way... but you shoot and insult both equally nonetheless."

"Funny, Garrus. Last I checked, I never punched you through a window like I have a lot of Blue Suns," Shepard retorted.

Shepard's short answer suddenly forced Garrus to smile, mandibles lifted as a small line of sharp teeth peeked behind face plates. "So you admit, Shepard. You do care. At least, enough not to punch me through a window."

"Don't make this personal, Garrus," Shepard warned defiantly. He could sense the human suddenly creating a wall between them after he had worked so hard to open her heart. "Don't do this."

The turian shook his head, the thick scales of his head bristling slightly in an expression of slight impatience akin to his kind. "For someone so quick to avoid personal relations, I find your loyalty to take care of the most mundane tasks the crew requests absolutely stunning," he muttered sarcastically.

Shepard growled, "I need my men happy to complete a mission on the best of terms."

Quickly, one finger raised at the commander's eye level, eyes sharply locked onto her gaze. "It may go unsaid, Shepard. I have allowed it to stay in silence, but admit. At least professionally, that you have and always did rely on me. Do not tell me that these affections are one sided. Not when one of us may die."

"What is this, a beauty pageant Garrus? Do you want me to stand up and tell the world that I love you or some bull shit like that?" Shepard's impatience was stepping over the board. "What will it achieve?"

"Some peace of mind." Words spoken with such ease, Garrus took up the commander on her attitude. "I've lost my sense of idealism a long time ago, Jane. Now be straight with me. I deserve as much."

Shepard was shocked, not by Officer Vakarian's request insomuch as how he asked it. No one on the ship referred to her by her first name, no one except Anderson was allowed the privilege. More often she was 'Commander' or 'Shepard', and closer still 'Foucault' - a nickname she took a liking to two years back when Joker coined her 'A bitchier Michel Foucault with an even greater hate for dumbasses with too much power' (Though, Joker informed Garrus she may have just liked the name because it rhymed with 'Fuck Off').

Further more, turians never regarded their superiors on a first name basis. It was absolutely unheard of. Garrus's culture was based entirely on hierarchy and title, every person (with exception to family) were respectfully called by title, by last name if they were high ranking, or by first name if a superior spoke to an inferior - unless the commanding officer preferred otherwise. Shepard knew this, Garrus obviously knew this. It could be misinterpreted as an insult.

But Garrus wasn't insulting Shepard, and he could tell that this was understood. In fact, he was behaving outside of his culture and adopting a tone and a motion very unique to humans. Desperation is a foreign concept to turians, but not to humans. Garrus adopting human language in that instance, by calling out to Jane. That is what shocked her.

The warm engine hummed a distant rhythm, key partner to the silence that had filled the room. Shepard's eyes dropped as her first name hit the ground, impacting her. One hand rolled over her face, thumb and index finger massaging her eyelids as she spoke above a mutter, breaking the tension. "You a side of me, Garrus. You see a side I don't show anyone else in this tiny little god damn galaxy."

Her voice lowered deeper, almost into a whisper, "I've had to be distant all my life. I made orders to kill people I knew in Torfan. Hell, I made orders that killed a good soldier, a brave soldier, and probably one of the only goddamn people I've actually liked in my short life on Virmire. But people always turn on you. They always do. The alliance completely rejected me, Cerberus is using me, Anderson won't help me, Wrex almost killed me, even Kaiden has shunned me. Everyone I've ever gotten remotely close to has either backstabbed me, used me, or died on me. But for some stupid reason, you have it in your head to keep trying. When I demand, you negotiate. When my ass is on fire, you block the shots. When I get too bitter, you provide humor. You rarely ask anything of me, you choose to keep stupid shit short, you cut to the chase, and goddamn knows that if I needed to get something dirty done, you'd have my back. You've always had my back. Why in the world do you think that I had no problem with the Sidonis kill? No complaint? No need for justification? No argument? Because I owed you, and I respect you even if you aren't human. Your a grown up. You can make big grown up decisions. Its not my place to betray you, even if I thought you killing Sidonis was a stupid idea. I wasn't about to turn against you, because you never turned against me."

The spill grounded to a conclusion, the words becoming concise and simple. "And let's be frank. Your the only person I know whose made me wait without pissing me off to the point of punching you, because I respect you have a damn good reason to make me wait. Even if I think you spend too much time doing calibrations and I'm convinced its an excuse to be lazy and skirt work," She coughed, her body tense and uncomfortable as she opened up, "So in short, yeah. I need the support to know what I'm doing is right. Its nice that I have someone whose opinion I value second guess me, offer critical advice. Its nice I actually know someone who is fully capable of keeping me in line without pissing me off. You are a stubborn ass. I keep trying to push you away, and you just keep coming back. I've kind of accepted that you are here to stay, and I'm not minding as much these days. There. I said it. Yes, Garrus. I need you."

There. It is said. Done. Well, as close to being said as a shut off, private, and terribly antisocial Shepard is capable of being done. Garrus knit his fingers together and leaned in, face plates relaxed in a slightly open posture. His gesture was strange, forehead leaning close to hers but keeping a cool distance between them. It was affectionate, but respectful of her boundaries. "Like a partner."

"Like a partner," Shepard echoed bitterly, the revelation making her further uncomfortable and agitated. She watched the turian mannerism, leaning into it unconsciously before quickly standing up to depart, her expression slightly awkward in the light of the moment. Neither could read the other, Garrus had never seen these human expressions before, the fluster and confusion and agitation. On strangers, yes, but not on Shepard. He felt somewhat awkward himself, and tried to mimic Shepard's actions so that they both knew there was some confusion but an understanding between them.

Many people often joked Garrus always seemed so awkward around Shepard. But the turian was convinced he was only as awkward as she was, which was frequent. Well, when they weren't punching the hell out of Mercs or playing chess...

Though Garrus was not one to allow the woman to escape so suddenly. As she stepped backwards towards the door, the turian's voice drew warmth into the room, "So should I write Miranda a letter of apology? Some details concerning the ruse of her position? I do think the poor woman deserves some honesty for a change."

Shepard rolled her eyes and just turned around, back facing Garrus. She agreed with the redirection of words, awkwardness shifting into sarcasm, "Jesus, does anyone actually believe I listen to her advice? Imagine it. Imagine if I'd have taken her words from the start. We'd have a stir crazy quarian, a frozen krogan, and don't let me get started with the possibility of an all out war between the quarians and geth had I not rebooted Legion instead of shipping him off to Cerberus, as Miranda 'brilliantly' suggested. Honestly. Does anyone actually believe she is second-in-command?"

Garrus grinned, shoulders lifted into a shrug, "Miranda does."

The commander scoffed, and stepped outside with her voice rolling out into the air, "Whatever. That doesn't matter on the battlefield soldier. Besides, what's important is one thing and one thing only." A finger snapped up into the air with great drama as she clarified her departing words. "Check. Mate."

The doors shut with a satisfying thud, leaving the turian to dwell on his commander's words. His attention switched back to the chess board, investigating his king's unfortunate situation, trapped between a couple of thoughtless pawns with a queen clearly prepared for the killing blow. He smiled, plucking the elongated piece from its place, fingertips smoothing over the soapstone thoughtfully. "Well, what do you know."

Author's Notes ::

I wish more fic explored alien relationships as they are. They aren't humans wearing funny looking masks. Aliens are made up completely differently, with histories, cultures, backgrounds, and even biology that separates them from being anything like humans with exception to some similarities.

I won't explore all my pet peeves, but this fic is my personal outlet.