Shepard has sexy encounters with miscellaneous Mass Effect characters, because she can. Yep, that's the plot. You've been warned. Not the usual pairings though, for fun and a bit of a challenge. I'm thinking Wrex, Nihlus, Tali, any turian I can get my claws on… heck, maybe I'll throw in a hanar or something. Suggestions welcome. Many thanks to all the writers out there for sharing: here's my attempt to do the same.

Mass Effect belongs to Bioware. The following is not their fault.

"This had better be important." If the Councilor's door had manual controls, she'd have slammed it on the way in. As it was, Shepard had to settle for her iciest glare, arms crossed and shoulders thrown back in a display of aggression. He'd summoned her on her private comm, the one link she couldn't turn off, interrupting her only night of shore leave before the next brutal mission. Damn turians. Always working, even at this ridiculous hour.

"We've received new intel, Shepard. A geth settlement has been discovered in the Terminus systems."

"That's it? That's fucking it? You couldn't have sent me a message?" She was furious, wondering how she could possibly make his impending death look like an accident.

The Councilor bristled, clearly offended. "A private audience with a Council member is an honor most can only dream of." She rolled her eyes, shirking her overcoat to reveal a very short dress, the high neck underlining her clavicles, back plunging dramatically to a point just shy of indecency. Turian catnip.

"I was busy."

"Oh?"

"With Sha'ira."

"Ohhh. You must have waited a long time. How inconvenient."

She shot him a smug glance. "No appointment needed. The consort always makes time for me." Shepard had been looking forward to the encounter for weeks: she needed to blow off a little steam before throwing herself back into the jaws of death. Sha'ira was a skilled lover but a merciless tease, her slinky blue tongue bringing Shepard to the brink of climax again and again, reaching her breaking point and pushing her beyond it until the eventual release was so intense as to be unbearable. Tonight was no different: she'd endured what felt like hours of the asari's decadent torture, her whole body clenched in anticipation of the exquisite pleasure about to overtake her, when the Councilor's call brought the proceedings to an abrupt and unsatisfying halt.

Shepard moved slowly toward him, stilettos shifting her gait to accentuate her curvy shape, her tiny waist. He looked away, embarrassed, and she took the opportunity to size him up, taking in his fierce white markings, broad shoulders, long limbs. A handsome turian, she thought, and an arrogant bastard. The combination never failed to make her hot. The state she was in was his fault, she decided: he was in her debt for a mind-blowing climax. She was going to enjoy collecting, but for now she was having way too much fun making him squirm.

"You were saying something about the geth, Councilor."

"Yes. Geth. Here." He gestured at his vidscreen, falling right into Shepard's trap. She let a fingertip trail along his desk as she walked around to join him, resting her hands on the cool metal as she bent at the waist to inspect the screen. It took a great deal of poise to appear oblivious to his eyes tracing her body, but she held her focus on the intel and began to ask him increasingly detailed questions about the AI settlement. The soft sounds of his quickened breath rewarded her efforts, as did his increasingly flustered responses. She stood perilously close to him, much closer than the respectful distance a subordinate should keep from her superior, but what could a human possibly know of turian etiquette?

"That's enough for now, Shepard. I'll forward the rest to your ship's computer."

"As you wish." Just a hint of submission, a fine wisp of a tease that could easily be construed as an innocent remark. "I was just wondering…"

"Please, sit down." It sounded more like an order than he'd intended. She contemplated sitting in his lap, just to see his reaction, but reaching her goal would require a little more finesse. Shepard perched on the edge of the desk, legs daintily crossed. She'd taken the dominant position: he would have to look up at her to carry on the conversation. She wondered how long he'd be able to stand it.

"As I was saying…"

"Don't sit there." Not long at all.

"Oh, I'm quite comfortable." Her sweet tone suggested she had no idea what she was doing to him, no sense of the wild boundary violation she'd just committed.

"Get off my desk."

"No really, it's very comfortable, thank you." Shepard let the faintest hint of a smirk grace her lips, subtly admitting she'd been toying with him all along. It took scant seconds for the revelation to play out in his features: disbelief, shock, seething anger. In the blink of an eye he leapt to his feet, talons entwining her hair at the base of her scalp, snapping her head back so that she looked straight up at his snarling face.

"You need to learn some manners, human." Oh yes, she thought, and you're going to teach me, aren't you?

Shepard held his gaze, firm and defiant, smirk still firmly planted on her lips. She wouldn't give in so easily. Even though she desperately wanted to: the metallic spice of turian arousal was eroding her resolve. Bending her knee, she was able to place one foot firmly against his chest, the spiked heel of her shoe digging in between his plates. Not an attack, merely a warning.

"Let me get this straight, Councilor. On several occasions, you've publicly called me a liar when you were in the wrong. After I gave the order to save your life and defend the Council, you let Cerberus take possession of my corpse when I died in the line of duty. And you have the audacity to suggest that I lack manners." I will not be intimidated. Deal with it.

For a moment, his expression grew pensive and his temper eased, and he loosened his tight grip on her hair. "I do what I must, Shepard, for the galaxy's sake. As do you." She saw the weight of the world on his shoulders, saw a great man behind the stern gaze, saw him looking at her as an equal. And she knew that he needed this just as badly as she did.

She slid her hand underneath his tunic, tracing the grooves of his plated waist with her fingertips. Turians weren't so difficult to please, once you learned how. "There is the small matter of you interrupting my private life, Councilor."

"Mmmm." She was running the nails of her other hand lightly down his fringe, scratching without hurting him. "Asari are overrated."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. Turians are far superior in all matters." He snaked his tongue along her neck, tasting the sweet perfume of her pheromones, hands sliding up her dress to caress the curve of her ass. "Allow me to demonstrate."

With a flick of his talons her underwear was dispatched, leaving torn bits of lace and angry red trails on her thighs. The pain startled her, and he grinned slyly: the act had been quite deliberate. He pulled her to the edge of the desk, her dress riding up to her waist, exposing her completely. Under other circumstances, she'd have floored him with a right hook and stormed out. With a turian alpha male, desire overcame dignity, and she didn't resist when he shoved her back against the cool metal desk, parted her legs and set about proving his point.

He didn't waste time: within seconds his long rough tongue was deep inside her, the peak of his upper lip rubbing her just the right way. Any pretense of innocence she might have clung to was gone now: if he knew anything of human sexuality her readiness gave her away. The sexual energy Sha'ira had so painstakingly built up in her came roaring back, and as he brought his tongue out to lap at her clit, thick taloned finger poised to enter her, Shepard knew she'd reached the point of no return. Embracing the inevitable, she wrapped her legs around his cowl and arched her back, screaming incomprehensibly as every muscle in her body clenched tight, releasing again and again as he hungrily drew out her pleasure until her mind went blank.

The stars in her eyes hadn't yet subsided when a familiar sensation interrupted her state of sublime delirium. She felt full, wonderfully full as though something she needed had become a part of her once again. Returning to the physical world, she felt the heaviness of a plated thorax pressing down against her breasts, a hard unforgiving surface at her back, the taste of turian blood in her mouth, teeth clamped tight on a leathery throat, and the rhythmic, pounding, delicious thrusting of his cock into her, set to the rough growling purr his kind made at the height of their passion. Oh, this was even better than she'd hoped for. She had no idea whether he'd reached orgasm already, but it wouldn't be long until she would again. He was holding nothing back, but she was too slick for him to do any serious damage. It was heaven. Taloned hands cupped her ass, tilting her up to take her harder, deeper, and she released her bite to throw her head back and pant out her appreciation. The Councilor stopped abruptly, wondering if perhaps he'd hurt her, visibly relieved when she looked up at him and grinned.

"You should sit in your chair now."

"What? Why?"

"I believe we have a score to settle."

He accepted the Spectre's order, settling into the formal chair, mandibles wide in surprise as Shepard knelt beneath his desk and began tracing her tongue along his formidable length. Would a turian understand how hot this was? She didn't care. Judging by his shuddering gasp as she took him into her mouth, hands deftly stroking his shaft, she figured he had some idea. Unbeknownst to her, this was a private fantasy he'd held for a very long time. Shepard, in turn, loved how a turian's ridges felt as they slid across her tongue, how wonderful it was to be in complete control of her lover's pleasure, and how incredibly naughty she felt to be on her knees in the Councilor's office. She didn't even mind when his fingers entangled themselves in her hair, gently but firmly setting her pace, letting her know he was in charge. Instead she moaned, squeezing her hands a little tighter around him, teasing him with her tongue at every opportunity. He couldn't believe her reaction, not just that she was indulging him but that she seemed to be enjoying every minute of it, the most powerful woman in the galaxy at his feet with her mouth around his… and as he looked down he caught the wicked look in her eye, heard her moan and felt it vibrate through his entire body, and dug his talons into the arms of his chair so hard the deep gouges couldn't be polished away.

Thoroughly pleased with herself, Shepard surveyed the damages. The Councilor sat looking poised as ever, stark naked but for the shredded remains of her dress in his lap: he had no way of knowing she wasn't allergic, so had used it as her surrogate in the moment of release. Bare herself but for stilettos, Shepard walked with predatory grace over to the washroom, and did the best she could to tidy up. Medigel would accelerate the healing of her scrapes and scratches, and a warrior had other reasons to look roughed up. Besides, they were worth it.

"For someone who's not fond of humans, you certainly seemed to know what you were doing."

"I can be accommodating, when diplomacy requires," he said, calm and collected once again.

Shepard threw on her overcoat and closed the fastenings: as long as she didn't sit down, no one would be the wiser to the fate befallen her clothing. "Don't think I'm going to go easy on you the next time I address the Council, Sparatus."

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Shepard." He was still smiling as she disappeared through the doorway, watching wistfully out his window as she emerged from the elevator and was swallowed by the teeming crowds on the street below.