The commander was listening to her music which, -he had learned through a series of unfortunate and awkward events- meant that she wanted to be alone. He'd said as much to the nosy yeoman who had cornered him on his way back to the main batteries where an endless amount of calibrations awaited.

"It's just…today…well, nobody should be alone on Christmas," she'd told him, as if that made any sense. He crossed his arms and didn't answer. Maybe if he glowered enough, she would go away.

He was satisfied when she flinched, but immediately let down when she opened her mouth again. "You knew her the best, maybe you should talk to her?" she hugged herself and frowned miserably, looking toward the ceiling. He didn't bother to tell her she was looking in the wrong direction; the commander's quarters were at the other end of the ship. "She's got to feel so alone up there…"

He scoffed, Jane Shepard didn't have feelings.

"I think she'll make it," he said taking a step away from her, then two. She didn't seem to notice, still looking toward the ceiling, so he turned to leave. He was mid-turn when he felt it- an iron grip on his forearm. He looked down at the hand there and then the human attached to it.

She still wasn't looking at him, but there was a dangerous glint in her eye, "You should go talk to her." It didn't sound like a suggestion.

"I don't think-"

"-Officer Vakarian," she interrupted him and squeezed harder. It didn't hurt, but he got the feeling she meant it to.

"Yeoman Chambers," he echoed, jerking his arm away. He didn't know what she was playing at, but he wasn't about to be intimidated by some glorified Cerberus secretary. She recoiled, as if he'd just hit her or something and looked at him with wide- I'm-about-to-cry-and-it's-your-fault –eyes.


"Fine!" he grumbled, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'll go check on her," he practically spat the last part in case she was in some way unclear about how he felt.

She clasped her hands together and smiled at him, the tears mysteriously vanished, and took a step forward, until she was less than a meter from him. Unconsciously, he leaned away, her proximity –and her perfume- repelling him.

"Always knew you were a softie," she said with a smug grin.

He opened his mouth to argue- her species was the one with all the delicate, fleshy bits- but she had already turned on her heel toward the elevator, presumably to return her post on the CIC and he was afraid arguing might encourage her to stay.

He watched her leave with full intentions of ignoring her "order" and working on calibrating like he'd originally planned. She was just about gone, the elevator doors nearly closed when she shot out a final warning.

"And don't even think of ignoring me. I'll find out, and if I do, I'll tell her about what really happened at Omega."

Then the doors were closed and Garrus was left feeling like the biggest tool who ever lived. He had underestimated Chambers, it seemed. He didn't have to wonder where she got her information (she was with Cerberus) or what exactly she'd been referring to- there was plenty that had happened on Omega that he wasn't proud of but he had a suspicion she knew about Sidonis.

He didn't like being blackmailed. People who tried usually ended up in the crosshairs of his scope. He wasn't even that concerned with Shepard finding about Sidonis- he was going to tell her anyway, the timing just hadn't felt right yet. Saving the universe tended to take priority over enacting revenge, plus he didn't have any leads on where the bastard might have gone, so there was really no point in bringing it up.

Still, he wanted to be the one to bring it up. Shepard was about the only one the in galaxy he trusted to know about what had happened- the only one who had any right to know- and he would be damned if he was going to let her find out from someone else.

He also wanted to warn her about Chambers- let her know the yeoman was more than she seemed.

So with his mind made up, he made his way to the elevator and punched the button to the top level. He still didn't relish the idea of interrupting her little music-therapy session, but with no other option readily available, he steeled himself for what he was certain was going to be an uncomfortable exchange between himself and the commander.

Author's Note: Part one? Anyone interested in more?

Merry Christmas everyone!