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who. York (

noscope), Garrus (

calibrating)
what. North and Garrus help York do a simple job that goes awfully wrong.
where. a vorcha-infested neighborhood in Zeta District
when. forward-dated to 4/20
warnings. potentially graphic violence

York and Kengo had done their best, but with only the two of them and the remains of the Talons, they hadn't been able to fix the water quick enough to prevent the fire from leaving a large swath of damage behind. Wash and York had been among the lucky, but there were plenty of unfortunate suckers whose apartments had been casualties of the fire. Things weren't looking too fabulous in Omega right about now.

Of course, with every problem comes an opportunity. Working in a bar frequented by all sorts has its perks -- one night York's serving a grouchy turian who's complaining to her about the vorcha problem in his neighborhood. Ever since the fire and the ensuing chaos, a bunch of homeless vorcha had started clustering in his neighborhood, starting fights and making noise and generally causing a lot of trouble. And when the turian said he'd pay good money for somebody to chase all those vorcha out, but the mercs all had bigger problems to worry about and hell if he was going to do it himself -- well, it'd have been indecent of York not to offer her services. It sounded like an easy job -- vorcha are dangerous, sure, and they'd be armed, but they're not exactly known for their cunning.

York can't do a job like this by herself, though, and Wash seems like he's got his hands full with this new mercenary business, so she turns to the two people she thinks she can trust with this most -- North and Garrus. Technically she hasn't known either of them for long, but the truth is, North is North, and she knows he's reliable. And Garrus -- well, to be honest, she's not sure about him yet, but she knows she can count on him to have her back in a fight, at least. For now, that's all she needs. So she offers to split the pay with them if they'll help her clear out these vorcha, and she doesn't have a hard time getting either of them to agree.

So that morning, she tells them to meet her in the neighborhood they're supposed to be cleaning up, right outside a dilapidated little old laundromat. York gets there a little early, not antsy so much as ready to get started. She hasn't seen much action since she got this new suit of armor here, and while York doesn't exactly long for violence, part of her is pleased at the opportunity to really put it to use. It's a hell of a lot sleeker than her old Freelancer armor, that's for sure. She can really move in this thing. And once North and Garrus arrive, that's exactly what they're going to do.

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Garrus returns the greeting, used to it now thanks to all those years serving alongside humans, with a deft, strong shake of his own.

"Same here. Hopefully we can both live up to the hype, yeah?"

The mission briefing, such as it was, earns Garrus' full attention. He nods along with North's assertion, before adding his own bit of advice.

"You're gonna want to use incendiary based ammunition. Or a flamethrower. Vorcha heal quick, but if you set them on fire they tend to have issues."

"Way ahead of you, man." York unholsters her pistol, examining it with a broad smile. "Hey, I did my homework. I picked up some new ammo for the occasion. I'd like to see those little cockbites get past me."

She nods at the both of them, still grinning, almost eager. It's been a little while since she's had any action like this, and while she's pretty much retired, hey, it's fun to do a job here and there, still. "C'mon, let's move out. We're only a few blocks away," she says, waving them to start walking along with her. She keeps her pistol at the ready. "They're holding position outside of an abandoned shop front. You guys cover me, I'll take point and make a mess of 'em. Sync?"

He's done his homework for this mission as well, and already has his new shotgun equipped with incendiary rounds. It had taken a little bit to get used to new equipment, but he likes to think he's a quick learner. That he's prepared for this.

But then again, he always is. Back in the Project, he'd always been the first right next to Carolina ready for mission briefings.

"We've got you," he says with a small smirk. He's gotten used to how eager this York is - because while she does remind him of the one they'd apparently left behind when they'd been brought here, she's more her own person than he ever thought another version of York could be.

Let's pretend that makes sense. Because alternate universes are still something he has to wrap his mind around.

North makes sure he's fully loaded before he nods. "Sync."

He has to hand it to them-- York and her ilk don't play around when it comes to their jobs.

And that's how he likes it. Back home, he'd always admired disciplined soldiers, especially when they came with their own side of snark. The overall atmosphere between both York and North lends itself to a feeling of budding companionship, in a sharp contrast to the general awkwardness Garrus often kept hidden away when dealing with these newcomers.

It was all to save face, of course.

Then came the command. It's simple enough to decipher pretty much immediately, but it still catches him off guard and serves as a quick reminder: he's not one of them, despite the fact that he's more than willing to work with them. They'll always have that camaraderie to rely on should things go rough. He'd do his best to match, but he knows all too well that nothing can beat that special synergy between teammates. It's by no means a bad thing. Quite the opposite, actually.

He waits for York to respond, choosing to keep quiet. It feels as though he's intruding otherwise.

York half-expects Garrus to chime in, because despite the fact that he's not one of them, she's found him so easy to work with that he might as well be. But when he doesn't, she's not too surprised, and she gives him a nod, lifting her pistol as she quickens her pace a notch. "Let's make this quick, huh, guys?"

When the round the next corner, the abandoned shop front the vorcha have made their temporary base comes into view. They're approaching it from the side, at enough of an angle that they get at least an extra hundred feet on the vorcha before they realize the people coming at them are armed. York takes one out with two incendiary shots to the head before anyone can open fire, and when the vorcha start to open fire, that's when the action really starts.

North may not know Garrus well at all, but it doesn't mean that he isn't going to end up trusting the turian to watch his back while they're on this mission. There's no reason for him to feel like he's in the way, or intruding, because if he actually were? He wouldn't be here.

North is nodding, and once York is around the corner, there's no more time for talk. The shots start firing almost immediately, and he's sliding into cover as quickly as he can before he ends up taking a round to the shoulder, peeking around every so often to make sure he has a clear shot before he lets one go.

Limited ammunition, and all that.

One she's taken the first one down, all the other start chiming in with their hisses and growls at their fallen companion, and it's pretty much nothing but a free-for-all that seems to be going in their favor.

At least until the grenades start going off.

Vorcha are unique in that the very trait which makes them so terrifying was also one of their biggest downfalls: their unpredictability. Their feral tendencies made life hell for both their own species and anyone who has to deal with them-- so basically a good three fourths of Omega.

Before, it was hard enough to catch any one of them in his sights, what with their constant movements. Now, with the combined rattle from small explosions, getting a decent shot is nigh impossible-- although he is thankful that he's up high-ish. Well, impossible is a bit of a stretch for someone of Garrus' caliber. 'Really fucking annoying' is probably a better fit.

"Gonna make things a bit louder," he calls out to the rest of the team, as he lines his scope up with a low wall behind said vorcha. He waits until one of them ducks out to the side before blasting a proximity mine the short distance needed, the bomb planting itself against hard metal, waiting for the nearest enemy to stumble into its range.

Not that they have to wait long.

Not even a couple of seconds later, the mine goes off, and the small group of vorcha stumbles forward.

The proximity mine does some damage -- the ones still standing are thrown off enough that York gets a good few lucky shots in, and even though one of them gets in a little too close she manages to club the vorcha with her pistol in the face a few times, until he's been suitably subdued.

"All right, this is what I'm talkin' about!" York lets out a laugh as she backs it up a few steps, still firing away. It's hectic, crazy, and okay, maybe a little risky, but hey, she's got two highly trained snipers picking off anything that gets too dangerously close. But when a cluster of vorcha starts to hurriedly retreat back behind the shop front and the fight starts to slow down a little, York gets the lurking sense -- just for a moment -- that something's not quite right.

Somehow, it happens all at once. York catches it only out of the corner of her eye -- the wide arc of the grenade, sailing through the air and the rattling clink as it hits the ground, suddenly in stereo as another follows it. York's head snaps over to the grenades, hearing the faint beep.

"Son of a bitch -- "

She lurches, rolls away as quickly as she can -- thank god for this new suit, is all she can think -- and the grenades burst into fiery explosions behind her, close enough she can feel the heat whoosh through her. If she hadn't jumped when she did, she might only be a puddle on the ground right now. York's on her feet in an instant, firing her pistol back at the vorcha while she tries to find some cover.

"You've gotta be kidding me! They're not supposed to have explosives!"

York would find all of this chaos exhilarating. It's the kind of situation the man he knows back home would find more comforting than anything else. Not knowing what's coming next, making a game out of it - it's just how they are, and she's being true to form in every aspect North can possible think of.

He hears her yelling, hears both of them yelling and though everything seems to be under control so far, he can't but to think that their enthusiasm is going to inevitably blind them to something dire. It's not that he distrusts any of their abilities - far from it, in fact - it's just that he's so meticulous, plans everything out to the very last detail until he knows for sure that nothing can go wrong. And only then does he feel like things are settled well enough to push forward.

He's watching for the grenades, rolling out of the way when one of them gets too close for comfort, and it's with a solid whoosh of air pushing out of his lungs that he comes behind another bit of cover, managing to pull off a few more shots before he has to reload. North hadn't thought they'd have mines, either, but then again .. it's not like anything surprises him anymore.

"Are you surprised?" he calls over to her with a small huff of a laugh.

"Surprised or not, stay sharp." Garrus growls uneasily.

Back when he worked on the Normandy, he sort of fell into the position of Jane's guardian angel (and no, the somewhat irony is not lost on him) whenever she decided a good round of biotic fisticuffs was warranted. Which was far too often, but far be it from him to say so. Occasionally he'd teamed up with Thane, so working with another skilled sniper doesn't faze him in the slightest.

In fact, it gives him an incentive to try something new.

"York, do you need another set of hands down there? Something more mid-range? I'm sure North can handle things from up here without me."

Yeah, okay, it's still fun and exciting, but York's a little annoyed now, too. And maybe just the faintest bit concerned, because the intel didn't say anything about explosives. But hey, they're just a few vorcha, and she's got both eyes and a new suit of armor and plenty of bullets, and she's York.

"It's fine, it's fine, I got this," York says, and her voice is still breathless and exhilarated, but there's an irritated edge to it. She ducks behind a low wall, shots firing overhead, and when she springs up to fire a few shots, they all land in some vorcha's throat. "You guys just keep coverin' me, okay?"

That bad feeling he's got just intensifies when York says she doesn't need the help. (And it isn't just because it's his protective nature taking over. Some of it might be that, but for the most part, it's just his mind's way of trying to tell him that something is going to go horribly wrong if he doesn't do something.)

North chances yet another look out from behind his cover, firing off a few more shots before he calls out - "Garrus, I don't care what she says. Go cover her. You're right, I can cover you both from here."

What he doesn't say: just make sure she stays safe.

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easybake oven.

automatic dishwasher

i love u dorks

aw baby we love you too.

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