#!mousewrites

“Okay, Cerberus bitch.”

“Wow, maybe you should get another insult and a shirt.” Miranda bit back at Jack, who curled her full lips, reaching for another insult. There was a beat, and Miranda noticed Jack’s narrow brown eyes dart sharply behind her. The expression that flickered across her features was one of amusement and curiosity. Glancing over her shoulder, Miranda saw what was so interesting to the bald biotic.

Standing beside one of the crew deck tables were Kelly Chambers and Garrus; the turian seemed to be having just a casual conversation with the crew member. However, it was clear from her body language that the yeoman was flirting. 

One hand placed demurely to her chest, mirroring his stance. Giggling at something he said, Kelly leaned forward slightly, her cheeks a rosy hue. 

“Oh yikes.” Miranda cringed. On Omega, when he almost died, Miranda saw the way gentleness flowed from Shepard. The way the commander whispered to him, her southern voice full of suddenly soothing honey. 

“It’s going to be okay, Garrus. Stay with me. Shh. It’s going to be okay. I got you.” 

Silently, Miranda had watched as Shepard gripped his hand. Her full bottom lip and chin wobbled. A streak of his blue blood along her supple brown cheek, matching his clan markings. 

“You think that girl has any idea?” Jack asked, crossing her arms.

“If she did, I don’t think she would dare to lay it on so thick.” It was, in truth, the first time that Miranda and Jack maintained a back-and-forth that involved something other than their disdain for each other. 

From down the hallway, there was a unique cadence of footsteps that echoed around the corner. At the sound, Miranda swallowed.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Clear. Each sturdy footfall was driven by the weighty boots and the confident stride. 

“Oh shit. Well, she’s about to find out.” Jack snickered, her shiny dark eyes glinting wickedly in the harsh bluish-white light of the Normandy. 

Without a word, Commander Quinn Shepard cut around the corner. At that moment, Kelly laughed again and lay her hand on Garrus’ arm. Behind those hellish, blazing eyes, Shepard’s glare clicked between the yeoman's overly familiar touch and Garrus’ face, which was already turned away from Kelly as if he sensed Shepard’s aura the moment she came around the corner. Finally, her blooming crimson stare landed on Kelly’s grinning face. 

When their eyes met, the titters of Kelly’s laugh ceased. The only sound now was Mass Sergeant Rupert Gardner's irritating low whistling. 

“Commander! I’m glad you’re here; I have a few things I wanted to discuss with you.” Garrus said, with a wide turian smile, exposing his sharp teeth. 

Based on all the data Miranda had to review on Shepard during the Lazarus Project, she had her ideas as to WHY Commander Shepard was so attracted to Garrus.

The most important factor was safety. During her life, Quinn Shepard's relationship to security was fleeting. And Garrus Vakarian made her feel safe, and by the bladed look she threw at Kelly, she was willing to claw out eyeballs to keep that feeling.

With a nod at Kelly, Garrus stepped towards Shepard. Like a magnet attracted to a spool of barbed wire. Red embarrassment beamed across Chamber’s whole face and neck.

The communication that was displayed between the two women flew over Garrus’ non-primate, not from Earth head.

Clenched jaw, sharp glancing daggers, hand on the hip.

Mortified blotchy redness, shoulders raised almost to the ears, shrinking. Wishing to vanish out of her corporeal form. Poor girl. 

Without a single word, Shepard moved down the hallway towards the main battery. Garrus followed from behind; he hovered his hand near the small of her back. However, he snapped his hand away before he could touch her. The motion was clear; he wanted to rest his talons on her lower back but then thought better of it.

Silently, Shepard threw one single glance at Chambers from over her bare shoulder. 

Eyes of a wolf lending a single warning.

Back off. 

“Ay, Chambers!” Jack called once the Commander and Garrus were far out of earshot. The yeoman gulped and blinked over at them. 

“I think the bird boy and his bussy are spoken for!”

At the word “bussy,” Miranda’s mouth fell open, and she snapped her head back at Jack.

“What? They have boy pussies, ya know.” 

Miranda didn’t say anything, only shaking her head and going back into her office. That was enough social time for the day. Yet, she did laugh to herself because, unfortunately, that was a very accurate description of the turian sheath.