Just an idea I had rattling around in my head, so I hope you like it! Big thanks to greenyoda987, as usual, for being awesome.

This is established Shakarian, part of the way through ME3, on their way to cure the genophage.


Shepard sat bolt upright, struggling against the arm protectively draped across her shoulders. Gasping, she half fell out of bed and let the offending limb fall back onto the bed as she stumbled toward her bathroom. Nausea threatened her with every step and finally knocked her to her knees when she reached the small, tiled washroom, leaving her to crawl to the rest of the way. Bile burned up her esophagus and she heaved her stomach's meager contents into the toilet with a groan. Fucking Cerberus… They couldn't just get rid of her demons while they were eradicating every other human bit of her, could they? She let out a shaky breath before retching violently into the toilet again.

"Shep?" a flanging voice grumbled from her bed and she could hear sheets rustling quietly. Damn, of course he'd woken up. She didn't want to talk about this nightmare with him, but she didn't have the heart to stay silent; she knew he would panic and search for her if she didn't answer.

"Here," she moaned, forehead resting against the cool tile on the wall as her stomach protested. Talons clicked across her floor and she glanced over at her turian lover as he came to stand beside her. His eyes ran over her, concern written in the set of his mandibles, and he knelt, hand resting lightly on her back.

"Are you alright?" Garrus asked, searching her face, and she gave him a weak smile though she knew he could see through it. The ritual was so common they probably could have done it without words. His brows lowered slightly and she knew he didn't like what he saw: her face was pale and her hands were trembling as she leaned forward again, her stomach lurching threateningly. She gagged, spat bitter yellow bile from her mouth and grimaced, sitting back on her heels.

"Water?" she mumbled, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. He nodded and left her side to retrieve a bottle of water from the cooler beneath her desk and she rubbed her temples absently. Fucking nightmares… Always the same one, always reliving the same moment. Something cold was pressed to the back of her neck and she sighed contentedly, feeling the cool moisture slide down her spine. She gave her lover an appreciative smile and took the offered bottle, swilling some of its contents around in her mouth before spitting it back out.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

And there was the problem. She cringed, taking a long sip of water to soothe her abused throat. He always wanted to talk about it. At least I wasn't screaming this time… But no, she didn't want to talk about it. She never wanted to talk about it. She would talk about the beacon's visions, or the Collectors, or dying, or even the child and the forest in her most recent dreams, but this… Not this. She shook her head slightly and rested her forehead against his shoulder. She could feel him sigh heavily as his arms circled around her.

"Kai, you know you can tell me anything," he purred, nuzzling the top of her head gently. The short black strands brushed his plates like silk, wrapping him in her scent and he found he loved her hair—strange as it was—more and more every day. She'd always left it short—since before he'd met her, he was sure—and he'd asked her only once why she didn't let it become long, like Miranda's was, but she'd turned to stone and bluntly told him where to shove that idea. So he'd never mentioned it again and—he'd decided—he liked it this way. If only he could get her to actually talk to him…

"I know, Garrus," she mumbled, drawing her legs up under herself and cuddling into his embrace, "This is just… It's something I have to…" Fuck. She knew she should have talked to Chambers about this before the Cerberus crew had been ousted. "It's hard to talk about, okay? It's still… painful."

Grow up, part of her brain snapped, You're a grown woman; that was back in basic. You're a Commander now, hell you're a fucking a Spectre. You've saved the galaxy twice; you're a bonafide bad ass. So stop acting like a child!

It's not so simple, she thought back, relishing the feeling of Garrus's talons running in circles over the exposed skin above the tank top she wore to bed. A contented hum escaped her throat and he nuzzled the side of her neck, nipping lightly.

Garrus exhaled against her skin, surveying her face as she closed her eyes, wondering what his lover was thinking. From the set of her brow and the tension in her jaw, he knew she was deep in thought, but that didn't mean she would tell him. Part of him was frustrated with her determination not to confide in him—insulted, even, that she wouldn't let him help her—but experience had showed that sometimes, Shepard just needed her space. He didn't have to like it, but she would open up to him in due time. Hell, his patience had paid off well enough when he waited for her to acknowledge their chemistry. Maybe it would be true now. But we don't have that kind of time, his brain reminded him, The Reapers could be here any day. Instinctively, he held her tighter, burying his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent. Maybe if she would just let her guard down, just once…

"I want to be here for you, Kai. You don't have to do everything on your own, you know," he rumbled, licking a trail up to her ear, his breath making her shiver. She knew he was talking about the Alpha Relay; he was still angry that she'd left him to do it on her own, but she stood by her decision. She would never have allowed him to be imprisoned for her actions. Besides, they were together again now, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm used to it," she replied truthfully, tilting her head so he had better access and he growled something, but continued his ministrations on the sensitive flesh of her neck. A light moan slipped out and he drew her into his lap, guiding her legs to either side of his waist.

"I know. But that doesn't mean you have to keep doing it." His talons dragged down her back to dip up under her shirt, sending a shiver down her spine. "I thought I'd been pretty clear about this, but I guess I have to remind you sometimes," he sounded almost indignant, but she could hear the humor behind his voice and met his gaze with hers. "I am serious about you, Kailynn Shepard, and that means being there to help you with your problems. But you have to let me." He trailed his tongue down the hollow of her throat, nipping each of her collarbones so she gasped against him. "So, are you going to talk about it?"

It took her a moment to realize that he was asking her a question and she hastily mumbled something unintelligible, earning a low chuckle from the turian beneath her. He knew she was putty in his hands, knew just how to touch her to make her say yes to anything, and she knew that he knew it, but didn't care. For a moment, she thought on the ridiculousness of having this serious kind of conversation while he was doing those delicious things with his mouth, but it didn't last. He brought his hands to her chest to tease her nipples through the thin cotton of her shirt and effectively banished all thought from her mind. She bit her lip to hold down the moan that threatened to escape her and glared at him through the fringe of her hair, blue meeting blue.

"You… are cheating," she panted, pulling them chest to chest so he had to abandon his efforts. His mandibles twitched in a smirk at the unspoken challenge, but then his expression softened and the playfulness was gone. He stared at her tenderly and she knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"Kai…" He cupped her cheek in his hand and she leaned into it with a sigh, eyes closing. "Please tell me?"

She blinked at him and huffed out a breath, carefully untangling their limbs and standing, trying to stretch the crick in her back. She hated it when he did this—he was practically begging—and it made her feel terrible to refuse but she wouldn't change her mind. It was too early to have this conversation… How early, she wasn't sure, but it was too early regardless. Too early in the day and too early in our relationship she thought sulkily, padding over the shower enclosure and flipping the water on. She turned slightly and smiled sadly at him over her shoulder, holding out a hand; a silent invitation to join her. Through the growing cloud of steam, she could see that he didn't want to let it go—honestly, that was part of why she loved him, he was so stubborn—but grudgingly took the offered hand and pressed his forehead to hers. A low purr vibrated in his chest and she kissed each of his mandibles lightly as she stripped him of the loose pants he slept in. His hands ghosted over her skin, divesting her of her garments with practiced ease and tugged her under the spray, shielding her from the scalding deluge with his body as she adjusted it to a temperature that suited them both. For a moment, they just stood in the steam, arms lazily wrapped around each other as the water belted down over them, but those moments never lasted and this morning was no different.

"Commander, we are approaching the mass relay to Tuchanka," EDI's voice interrupted over the intercom and the woman clenched her jaw to keep from cursing the AI up and down.

"Thank you, EDI, I'll be down shortly," she replied tightly, turning apologetically back to her lover.

"Of course, Shepard. Jeff requested that I inform you that our ETA is two hours in case…" She paused as if wondering whether she should finish the sentence and Shepard snorted.

"Tell Joker that I appreciate his concern, EDI, but he has better things to worry about, like flying my ship," Shepard cut in, saving her the trouble.

"I will. Logging you out."

Alone in the silence again, Garrus's mandibles twitched into a small grin and she ran her hands over his shoulders, sneaking one up his neck to massage the soft flesh just below his fringe. He let his head fall back and let out a contented purr, arms tightening around her instinctively.

"Two hours, huh?" he finally mumbled, letting his talons drag lightly up and down the curve of her waist and over the swell of her hips suggestively. She let out a lusty laugh and he brought his face down to hers, engaging her in a surprisingly human kiss. His tongue slipped between her lips, brushing over hers teasingly before he pulled back and she whimpered at the loss. He smirked, seeing the flush blooming in her cheeks. Strange as it was, Garrus liked the odd human things about Shepard—the colors she turned for her different emotions, her strange and amazing hair, her soft, supple body—and though he always meant to tell her so, she always stopped him as if she knew, or didn't want to.

She pressed her body flush to his and pulled his head down, hungrily pressing her tongue into his mouth and he tightened his hold on her, relishing the sharp inhale through her nose as his talons made light scratches down her back. They would heal before they were out of the shower and she kept telling him that she didn't mind, that she liked it even.

"Enough time for you?" she goaded him breathlessly, gaze heavy with lust. A growl rumbled from him and his grip tightened possessively.

"We'll just have to find out, won't we?" he drawled, hands exploring her body before coming up to cup her face and steal another breathtaking kiss. His eyes met hers again and she gave him a small nod, almost undetectable if he hadn't been looking for it. Since the beginning, he always waited for her cue to continue, never going too far unless she let him know it was okay; the first time, he had been terrified that he would hurt her or that he was pressuring her, asking more than once if she was sure. He had to suppress every instinct in him that called for her surrender, instead focusing his energies on making sure that she was taken care of. He had never before tried to lead their couplings; each time they had behaved as equals, or at the very least, their intimacies were under her control. While he found nothing wrong with it – hell, she drove him mad under her fingers whenever he submitted to her – there was still a part of him that needed to be in control, that insisted that she submit to him. Thinking that maybe all she needed was someone to hold her, to focus on her, he figure he'd try a new tactic today – he would take charge of her; he'd direct everything this time, focusing all of his attentions and power on her. Maybe she would open up then, if she knew that he would catch her if she let go and let him lead. Maybe if someone took away that control that she so desperately clung to, she would realize she could share her burdens. No time like the present, he thought. Without hesitating, he buried one hand in her hair, pulling her head back lightly to attack her neck, the other gripping her wrist lightly as he pressed her back against the wall, grinding his emerging erection into her core.

Shepard gasped at the cool tile on her back and almost didn't notice his aggressive, possessive hold on her. Almost. His grip on her hair grew more insistent, forcing her head back and she let out a sound that spoke a mix of confusion, surprise, and a hint of fear. This wasn't the way they did things… His grip around her wrist tightened and she tried to see his face, fear threading its icy tendrils around her heart as its pace sped up.

Garrus felt her pulse quicken and growled against her skin, releasing her wrist to hike her leg over his hip. Damn, maybe this would work after all. "Shepard…"

His body was demanding against hers, and she felt an old, familiar dread settle over her. The hands on her were no long familiar, the body pressed against hers no longer rough, plated, and pleasantly alien. A light tug on her hair made her breathing hitch and she felt panic rise in her chest as her nightmare flew to the front of her mind. She pushed against his shoulders lightly, usually enough of a sign to stop, but either he didn't notice, or didn't sense the shift in her demeanor, and growled a warning as he flexed his hold on her leg. And in that moment, he wasn't Garrus anymore.

No, no, not here. Not now. Not with him. But her body was shutting down already and she cursed its traitorous reaction. Her knees buckled and she went limp, forcing her eyes shut and turning her head to one side to avoid the face of the man above her.

"Kai? Kai, what—" Had he gone too far? She had seemed more than willing before, she had instigated it, even. What went wrong?

Fuck. The concern in his voice as he pulled back from her broke down the last barrier she had and she collapsed back against the wall, tears sliding down her face and she sobbed into her knees, arms wrapping around her shins. Damn it. Fucking damn it. She could see him kneel in front of her, his knees on either side of her feet and felt his talons brush her cheek lightly. Without meaning to, she flinched back, glancing at him through squinted eyes; the confusion and hurt on his face made her eyes burn and a fresh wave of tears slipped free. What could she say to fix this? How could she explain to him what had happened to her?

"Kai, is this—" His subharmonics trilled out softly, reaching out but not touching her.

"I'm sorry, Garrus," she finally managed, scrambling out of her shower into her cabin, throwing her clothes on haphazardly and bolting for the elevator. Great job, Shepard. Run at enemy fire head on, but run away from your boyfriend and your problems, she scolded herself, leaning heavily against the elevator doors once they'd closed. Water dripped down her collar and her clothes stuck to her damp skin, sending a chill through her body. Fitting, she thought bitterly, wrapping her arms around herself as the elevator descended.

Garrus stared at the door after she'd gone, looking lost and confused. What in the hell had gotten into her? She'd never pushed him away like that, not even when they fought, which they did. Sulk and throw things, maybe, but never physically push him away. He couldn't help but think it had something to do with her nightmares—the ones she wouldn't talk about—but he didn't know anything other than that. And she'd never… shut down on him like that—ever, not just when they were… intimate—and that concerned him most. She had just... left her body, almost. His mandibles pulled tight to his face and with a sigh of resignation, he shut off the shower. Alone in her cabin, he felt the crushing sensation that whatever troubled his lover at night as something far deeper than she was letting on.

Spirits, nothing was simple with her.


Lemme know what you think, I'm taking any input and ideas for where to go!