Post-Virmire Femtur Bully

Garrus knocked gently on the door to the Commander's quarters.

No response.

She took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and rapped firmly.

"Enter," Shepard said.

He was seated at his desk, head in hands, looking straight down at the empty metal surface. He looked over as the door opened and his scowl deepened.

"Garrus? What the hell do you want?"

She bristled and looked away. "I just-- I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know how much Chief Williams meant to you. When I was in the turian military, I... lost someone in a similar fashion. The important thing is, they'd want us to move on. We've still got to stop Saren," she said.

"Oh yeah, bet you're real sorry. Ashley never trusted you anyway," he said, "and neither do I."

"And I doubt you ever really cared about your turian fuckbuddy anyways," he continued. "In fact, you're probably the very reason he died."

Garrus felt tingling indignation at that.

"That's not fair! I'm trying to be considerate, Commander," she said.

"Considerate, huh? Considerate's not gonna bring back the Chief. Just go away, Garrus," Shepard replied, returning to stare at his desk once more.

But Garrus couldn't stand it.

"How can you just sit here and wallow? We have a job to do. You have to focus, Shepard," she snapped.

Shepard rose from his chair and took a brisk stride over to her. Even though she was a head and a half taller than him, Garrus still backed up and felt a flutter of panic.

"Focus? I've lost soldiers before. I'm crystal-fucking-focused, Garrus. Go away before I throw you off this ship."

Garrus clicked her mandibles and turned away, flustered; embarassed; angry; confused. As the door closed, she heard the Commander mutter.

"It should've been you down there."