Dosed
"Another deep breath in..." Chakwas said again, listening with the strange antiquated stethoscope she'd pressed against his back.
"...and out." Thane exhaled sharply, and she took the instrument out of her ears.
"Well," Dr. Chakwas continued, folding up her stethoscope and discarding her gloves, "Your lungs sound clear, but you're only at about eighty-five percent capacity."
Thane sat politely but unhappily on the metal table, hands folded in his lap. He hadn't volunteered for this check-up.
Chakwas handed him his shirt back.
"I'll give you a decongestant to take at night. And we'll continue with the immuno-boosters."
"Thank you, Doctor." He said, zipping up his shirt, relieved that the impromptu exam was over.
Just as he was preparing to stand and retreat, the med-bay door hissed open. There stood Samara, and draped over her left shoulder, was Shepard. Samara had one arm around Shepard's waist. Thankfully, she was both taller and stronger than their commander.
They must have been only just returning from capturing Samara's fugitive. Shepard was still wearing the clothes Samara had insisted would "compel" her quarry—a tiny PVC dress, stockings, and heeled boots. Shepard had no obvious injuries, but didn't look exactly...right, either.
Then her eyes snapped over to him.
"Hey space man, do they have ladies this fine on your planet?" She slurred, gesturing broadly to herself and Samara.
The Justicar's eyes widened, and she caught Shepard's wrist in mid-flail.
"Doctor..." She growled, and a few things happened simultaneously. Thane leapt off the table to make room, Dr. Chakwas moved to Shepard's side, and Shepard herself successfully slithered out of Samara's iron grip and was making for the door when the doctor and the Justicar fell on her and restrained her again.
"What happened?" Dr. Chakwas exclaimed as they dragged her toward an exam table. Thane hung back, unsure what to do without making things any more complicated.
"Morinth—our fugitive—desired to seduce Shepard. To that end, she must have dosed her with something to make her more pliant. She's done it before."
Indeed, he could now see the tell-tale signs of inebriation—hugely dilated pupils, a flush to the skin, and of course the...unusually familiar greeting she'd given him.
Chakwas had Shepard's wrist between her fingers, checking her pulse-rate.
"I'm fine. Really." Shepard said emphatically. "I just want a shower."
"Sit tight, Commander. This will only take a few moments." Dr. Chakwas said soothingly, snapping on a pair of gloves.
Again, Shepard turned her attention to him. She looked him up and down, clearly appreciating what she saw, then meeting his gaze.
"Look what they're doing to me. Rescue me, Thane." She said plaintively, sliding off the table and making a break for him.
Samara swore colorfully and caught her under the arms, hauling her back toward the doctor.
"More pliant, Samara?" Dr. Chakwas said dryly, assembling a tiny slide for a blood sample.
"...Should I go?" Thane said hesitantly. Shepard seemed to have developed a strange compulsion toward him that was not working to anyone's advantage at the moment.
"See, Shepard!" Samara declared sternly, putting her hands on her hips. She had the practised authoritative tone of someone who'd raised three daughters to adulthood. "If you don't lay quietly and let Dr. Chakwas examine you, I'll make Thane leave."
Shepard sighed, suitably chastened. Samara flashed him a vaguely interrogative look. Thane shrugged, eyes wide. She sighed and waved him over.
Meanwhile, Dr. Chakwas was arranging Shepard on the table. As he neared the table the doctor flashed him a look, one eyebrow raised, then nodded at Shepard's prone form.
He took her hand in both of his.
"So, Shepard..." He started, while Chakwas circled to the other side of the table sterilized a tiny spot on her arm for the blood test.
"Hmm?" She murmured, looking up at him with frank adoration.
"...Did you apprehend Morinth successfully?"
"Pssh," she said dismissively, flinching slightly as Chakwas took blood. "She didn't stand a chance. But let's talk about you. How's the son?"
Thane couldn't help but smile.
"Kolyat is well. Buried under a pile of Bailey's paperwork, from what I understand."
She sighed wistfully. "Well, he shot that Krogan about four times. He'll probably be doing Bailey's reports for the next fifty years."
"Good. By then he'll be too old to get into any more trouble."
"Ah. It's MDMA." Chakwas interrupted, looking up from her laptop. She typed in a few characters then read on. "Hmm. She's in no danger, but I can't really safely lessen the effects, either. Even sedating her would be unwise. She'll just have to...ride it out."
"Ride it out?" Samara's voice had an unfamiliar ring of desperation to it.
Thane was calmer but equally concerned. "For how long, approximately?"
"I'm not sure. It's impossible to know how much she was exposed to, since we don't know how much her body has metabolised already. A few hours, at least."
"God!" Shepard declared suddenly. "My mouth is so dry!"
Samara sighed, turning to the tiny sink.
"We can't let the rest of the crew see her like this. It's...undignified." Thane said, accepting a paper cup full of water from Samara which he passed onto Shepard, who spent the next few moments trying to figure out how to drink it while lying on her back.
"And she can't stay in here." Chakwas said, pulling off her gloves.
"Why not?" Thane asked.
"Miranda's coming in for an exam in half-an-hour."
"Oh goddess." Samara put her face in her hands.
"Take her up to her quarters. There's nothing in there she can hurt herself on, is there?" Chakwas said.
"I can hear you, you know!" Shepard interjected.
The doctor patted her shoulder. "Thane and Samara will take you to your room so you can have a nice lie down, Commander."
"Aren't I lying down now?"
"Yes, dear, but they'll take you away so that you can lie down somewhere better."
Shepard smiled adoringly up at her. "You're so smart, Dr. Chakwas." She said.
Thane was unconvinced. "You're sure there's nothing we can do for her?"
Dr. Chakwas shook her head reluctantly. "I'll call her down to make sure she's...herself again in the morning. In the meantime, just make sure she doesn't get dehydrated or do anything foolish. It's not that bad. People do take this substance recreationally, you know."
"I can't imagine why." Thane said dryly, surreptitiously intercepting Shepard's wandering hand before it reached his backside.
"Alright, Shepard. We're going to help you to stand..." Samara said.
When they finally had her on her feet again, Samara and Thane threaded their arms under hers and locomoted her toward the door.
"Good luck!" Chakwas said unhelpfully. "I'll see you in the morning, Shepard."
Her head lolled on her shoulders and again she looked up at him dreamily.
"Are we sneaking? Ooh! Let's go through the vents."
Before he could respond to that, Samara interrupted.
"Yes, Shepard. We're being stealthy. So no talking until we get to the elevator."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Thane surveyed the mess hall from around the frame of the door. Thankfully, only Mess Sergeant Gardner was around at the moment. He was making something on the cook-range but was intermittently disappearing into the storage area. They had to time this carefully.
"On my mark...go."
Shepard could still...mostly...walk but at the moment it was faster to drag her. They pulled her limp form around the corner and up to the elevator. Samara hit the button, looking around furtively.
What seemed like an eternity later, the elevator made a soft musical tone and the doors slid open...and Zaaed stared back at them.
Thane and Samara exchanged a quick look over the top of Shepard's head. Samara sighed, and they pulled her into the elevator.
Blessedly, Zaaed seemed to have no comment as the doors slid shut again. All four of them faced the exit and gazed up at the floor indicator light as was the almost-universal custom on elevators.
"Slipped Shepard a mickey, eh? Goddamn, that brings me back." Zaaed sighed wistfully as the lift shuddered to a stop on the CIC deck, apparently as a send-off. The doors opened and he strode out wordlessly. Samara hit the 'close door' button a few more times than was strictly necessary.
Samara sagged as the doors closed again. "At least only one member of the crew so far thinks that we're involved in some sort of group debauchery involving our commander."
Shepard perked up, one eyebrow raised. Samara shook her head at her, and she slumped again.
"Oh, thank the goddess." Samara said as they finally arrived on the top floor.
They dragged her out of the elevator.
"Lemme in, EDI dear." Shepard said, and the door to her quarters slid open. Thankfully, EDI also had no comment.
Shepard's quarters were quiet, of course, except for the quiet bubbling of the enormous fish tank that made up one entire wall. It was also the only source of light in the entire room, bathing them in soothing blue.
They dragged her down into the slightly recessed bedroom area and, stooping, threw her over their shoulders and onto her military-neat bed.
"Thane, Shepard. Goodnight." Samara said, bowing deeply then turning on her heel.
Thane was disbelieving for a moment.
"Samara..." He growled, crossing the floor to whisper to her. "She could be like this for the rest of the night."
"Thane..." She sighed, and for the first time since her return to the Normandy, she looked very weary. "I have the utmost concern for Shepard. It's my fault she's in this position. But...I killed my daughter tonight. I need time to...I need time. Forgive me."
Thane took a step backwards in surprise, silent for a long moment. He had never supposed that Samara's "fugitive" had any personal relationship with her. Finally, he simply nodded.
"Thank you, Thane. I appreciate this more than you know."
Shepard had sat up on her elbows.
"Don't worry about it, Samara. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything foolish." She said, nodding sagely.
The Justicar sighed. "Thank you, Commander. For everything."
With that, she turned on her heel and retreated, head bowed.
Thane's breath came out of him in a rush as the door closed behind her. A few hours ago, this had seemed like it would be an ordinary night. He would submit to Dr. Chakwas' exam, then return to his makeshift quarters in the life-support bay. To spend another long rest-period staring up at the ceiling and listening to the hum of the grav-plating while his mind traveled back to happier times.
Now instead he was about to spend as many as the next eight hours making sure his normally business-like, composed, and capable commander didn't drown in her own fishtank. And to make things worse, she'd clearly developed some kind of sexual fixation on him in her inebriation.
"Just lemme take a shower. Really. I'm oookay."
Shepard sat up, swaying only slightly. Before he could speak she was off, scrambling out of bed. But Thane was quite possibly the best assassin in the galaxy, and not even the illustrious Commander Shepard could get past him.
They collided in the center of the room. He caught her under the arms, but her momentum and the bizarrely sticky texture of her PVC garments against his jacket pulled him over and they landed in a heap on the stairs. Shepard was already moving again, climbing over his prone form. His hand shot out and closed around her ankle and she toppled again, falling backwards down toward the stairs. Luckily for her, he was already sprawled across them, so she landed squarely on top of him and rolled off, coming to a stop on the ground at his feet.
"Ooof." He said belatedly. Shepard was all hip-bones and elbows.
Then one of Shepard's hands latched onto his calf, the other on his knee. She hauled herself up his body, using the waistband of his pants then his shoulders for hand-holds, coming to rest at last on his chest. Thane was trying desperately not to notice how certain parts of her were pressing into him and how very warm and...cushiony they were.
It was, of course, at this moment when the door to Shepard's quarters slid open and Garrus Vakarian appeared.
"Shepard." He said, his bright eyes searching the darkened room in the more obvious places for the commander. "I heard you were sick and..." His words trailed off as his gaze settled. His mouth closed but his mandibles flared slightly a few times.
"...and I'll come back later." He said, turning sharply back toward the door.
"Garrus! Wait!" Thane slid out from under Shepard and leapt up the stairs. Garrus turned.
"Can you assist me, please?"
"You seem to be doing well enough on your own!" Garrus said dryly, milliseconds before Shepard launched herself into his arms.
"Garrus! You're my best friend!" She said contentedly.
Garrus seemed to understand abruptly.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" He growled, patting her gently on the back with a horrified expression.
"Samara's fugitive dosed her with MDMA. Chakwas can't do anything. Apparently, she'll just have to 'ride it out'."
"Oh no." Garrus said curtly, looking down with growing discomfort as Shepard tried her best to nuzzle into his chest through several layers of state-of-the-art armor.
Thane crossed his arms, wondering if he should try to pry Shepard loose. While her condition had certainly made her more affectionate in general, he couldn't help but notice that she'd only been making romantic overtures at him. So chemicals were only part of the equation.
"What's the plan?" Garrus said, carefully extricating himself from Shepard's embrace.
"I haven't really formulated one."
"The plan," Shepard said, poking at Thane's chest with a finger, "is to take a damned shower. I spent all night in a dance club. I smell like cheap booze and sweaty people. So get outta my way, boys."
Thane and Garrus parted around her and watched as she sauntered into the bathroom. The door slid closed, then a few moments later, the sound of the shower running came. So far, so good.
"So how did you get stuck with Shepard-wrangling detail?" Garrus asked.
"I wish I knew." Thane sighed. "It's been a strange night."
"I'll agree with you there." Garrus muttered, looking over his shoulder to the closed bathroom door.
They stood awkwardly together for a moment.
"Well!" Garrus declared suddenly, "Those calibrations won't be...ah, calibrating by themselves."
He turned sharply and slid out the door.
There was no point trying to persuade him. Shepard's state was clearly unsettling Garrus in ways he was apparently immune to. And he wasn't even getting groped by the woman.
"Garrus. If Miranda asks, Shepard is ill with food-poisoning."
Garrus turned in the elevator.
"I agree completely." He said, and punched the button.
Thane sighed as the door to her quarters slid closed again.
"Lock the door, please, EDI." He said, and the holographic interface on the door turned from green to red. EDI was still, thankfully, without comment.
Suddenly the sounds of running water stopped in the bathroom. Thane began pacing. As he figured it, this was the part of the evening that was most likely to inspire some terrifically awkward conversations later. Did she even have fresh clothes to put on with her in there?
The bathroom door opened. To his relief, Shepard was wearing some sort of floor-length silk robe. It was black, like the garments she wore to the club, but suited her far better. Such clothing seemed inherently wrong on a woman of Shepard's caliber. The graceful robes were much more fitting.
"Will you help me lie down, please, Thane?" She said sedately, sounding much more like herself.
"Of course, Shepard." He said, bowing deeply. He put an arm around her waist and she put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself.
Shepard's body was incredibly warm against his side, and had more give to it than he'd expected. In a reversal of his earlier feelings (when she'd managed to elbow him in the face and drive her knee into his stomach simultaneously) he couldn't help but notice how yielding her form seemed.
"Thank you, Thane. I know you got volunteered to babysit me." She said, interrupting his very inappropriate line of thought.
"It's nothing, Shepard. I had no plans for the evening."
He pulled down the bedclothes with his left hand, then, unable to think of a better way to maneuver her, simply picked her up and deposited her carefully in bed.
She had a strange look on her face as he stood again, hands clasped behind his back—like she was looking for something to say and not finding it.
"I enjoy talking to you. Down in Life Support, I mean. Or, anywhere, really."
"Thank you, Shepard. I feel the same. It's been a very long time since I had someone to talk to."
Shepard's strange eyes skittered over him.
"Are you...comfortable...in Life Support? It's a bit cold. And cramped." Shepard was trailing off, and he had to bend over progressively more to hear her as she continued. "You're always in the same place. At your little table. Staring at the drive core. You're very lonely. I can tell."
Their faces were very close now. Shepard's breath was hot on his face and neck. She seemed to warm the very air around her. His eyes went involuntarily to her lips.
"Shepard..." he said, seeing precisely where this was going mere moments before it went there.
As her lips found his, Shepard's arms went around him and pulled him towards her. He got one knee onto the bed so he didn't just fall over onto her. Her hands went under his jacket and slid along his ribs. Even through the fabric of his shirt her hands trailed warmth.
Thane went down onto his elbows, running one hand through Shepard's hair before he could stop himself. He'd spent an unreasonable amount of time alone, on his military cot in the Life Support bay, wondering what her hair felt like. If her skin was as soft as it looked. Looking across the empty space where she sat when they spoke.
Abruptly he found himself nestled between Shepard's legs and his brain started working again. He practically leapt off of her.
"Shepard." He said breathlessly and wrapping his jacket tighter around himself. "This isn't you. You're inebriated. It's not proper."
She sat up, her robes falling open. He dragged his eyes back up to her face with considerable effort.
"It's perfectly proper. This is not a booty call. I really like you. Now get back down here so I can do things to you you've never even heard of."
Large chunks of that statement didn't translate properly for him—something about boots--but he got the idea.
"I know, Shepard. But I hold you in the highest regard. I couldn't take advantage of your condition. How would you feel in the morning?"
"Pretty damned good, I'd imagine." She muttered, but lie back down anyway. He positioned the bedclothes back around her.
"Couldn't we just talk, then? Like we always do?"
"Certainly." He sat on the bed beside her, taking her hand in his colder ones. "What should I tell you about?"
-
Five minutes into the story she was soundly asleep. He crept out of her quarters with one lingering look over his shoulder, then went back to his very empty cot in the LS bay.
-
Thane's remarkable patience was constantly being tested by the Normandy's elevator. He stretched a few sore muscles in his neck, glaring at the closed doors.
He'd slept dreamlessly for a few hours then was awake again. Years on the move had made it difficult for him to sleep through a whole night. At the moment he thought he'd go up to the armory and see what Jacob had on the drawing board.
When the elevator doors finally slid open, Jack stared out at him, arms crossed over her chest.
"Hey." She said.
"Good morning." He rumbled, stepping aboard. The doors closed and the elevator shuddered underneath his feet.
"Way to go." She said curtly. "I'm glad somebody's having some fun on this trip."
Weeks before, Shepard herself had warned him about something she'd referred to as "scuttlebutt". On a small vessel, in space for potentially months, gossiping was like a sport. She hadn't been kidding.
Before he could respond, the doors opened again, and Shepard appeared. Jack sauntered out. "And here I thought you were all business, Shepard." Her voice floated back toward them as the doors closed.
"What did she mean by that?" Shepard said, looking over something on her omni-tool.
"I wouldn't know." He said sadly.
She closed her omni-tool.
"I wanted to thank you for watching me last night."
"It was nothing, Shepard." He bowed slightly.
"Chakwas said I was pretty out of it. I hope I didn't do anything embarrassing."
"Of course not." He said, clearing his throat.
They were quiet for a few moments while the elevator crept upwards.
At last the doors slid open. The crew was just beginning to filter into the CIC, and of course the galaxy map loomed huge in front of them.
Shepard strode out. He followed her.
"Shepard..." He said. She stopped and turned.
"Yes?"
"Our next destination is the Citadel, correct?"
"That's right."
"I was wondering...perhaps, if you have time of course, we could go somewhere. The arboretum on the Presidium level is beautiful."
One corner of her mouth twisted into a smile.
"I always have time for you, Thane." She said, then turned and disappeared into Mordin's lab.