servantofclio:

“Shepaaarrd!” Grunt slurred, and attacked.

When Shepard went to the medbay to check on the krogan after they departed from Utukku, she had not expected to be enveloped by a krogan bear hug. She staggered under Grunt’s considerable weight and awkwardly patted at the leathery hide of his massive arms. She could barely see over Grunt’s shoulder, but she thought Eve looked amused behind her elaborate veil.

“I mish- mith- missed you,” Grunt informed her, his head bumping heavily against her own.

“I, uh, missed you, too, Grunt,” she said, bracing herself against the weight of true krogan. “What brought this on?”

He drew back, blinking great blue eyes that were a little glazed. “I jusht wanted you to know.”

“That’s nice.” Shepard tried to figure out how to extract herself. Fortunately, the door whisked open behind her.

“Hey, Shepard—”

“Turian!” Grunt cried, and left Shepard, lunging the few steps to embrace Garrus, who made an undignified yelping noise that Shepard’s translator didn’t render into words. “Garrush. Ma- My favorite turian!”

“How many turians do you know?” Garrus demanded, mostly obscured behind Grunt.

“One,” Grunt said. “No, two… three…” He backed up so he could count off on his thick fingers, allowing Garrus to stagger free.

Shepard said, “Mordin, what the hell did you give him?”

“Analgesic. Something to counter effects of rachni acid,” the salarian said, watching the krogan sway in place as he counted and mumbled. “Should note effects of combination.”

“Good point,” Shepard observed. “If we ever need him really mellow again. But maybe ease off on the dosage next time.”

Grunt abruptly sat down on the floor, chuckling softly. Mordin sniffed. “Agreed.”

(via breadedsinner)