A DANGEROUS WOMAN.
thane / shepard. nova shepard. bi-racial. italian / spanish. renegon.
picks up after everyone is recruited ( thane was one of the first ).
In his years, his priorities were always work oriented, for better or for worse. As such, while he was more than familiar with the human body in a technical sense, he had never viewed human women ( or women of any species, aside from his own ) with any particular sexual interest. Curiosity perhaps, but hardly anything that most would call inappropriate.
Not until her.
However, even that surprising revelation had not occured instantly. One could argue it was primarily due to still being in a battlesleep, which could not be denied. Yet, the more time he spent on the Normandy, the more awake he felt.
He noticed things — like how Jack had a very well-hidden sweet tooth, and often raided the kitchen late into the night cycle. Or, how Garrus tended to lose more than a few hours while working on calculations for accurately calibrating the ship's guns if left undisturbed. Thane hadn't intended to integrate himself heavily with the crew, yet that too had happened as the day passed.
It begun small, with various crew members approaching him whenever he was outside of Life Support. Gradually, he went from seldom leaving his quarters to splitting time between the solitude of his room and the camaraderie of the crew deck.
Which, of course, meant seeing more of Shepard, both literally and figuratively. Often he saw her in casual clothes, given that she made a point to regularly check in on him, as she did with the others. It was not particularly unusual to see her in a tank top and what she had once referred to as "yoga pants".
"Infinitely more comfortable than Cerberus regs," She assured him, even though he didn't ask. Still, judging from what he could tell of the material, he could certainly assume as much.
Given the woman's choice of attire, quite a bit of skin was exposed — to which she never showed an ounce of insecurity for. Before, he merely considered it commonplace. When Shepard was out of her armor, she wanted to relax, and dress down.
Completely understandable, really.
Now however, he was taking note of it. The way the thin straps of her top left caramel shoulders bare; how the shortness of it flaunted a toned stomach; and the undeniable swell of breasts, and consequently the peak of cleavage. These were things that had not caused him pause until recently, and worst of all, she knew it.
Even resisting the urge to look helped little, for those expanses of skin were forever etched into his memory, and consequently haunted him more than he cared to admit. When had his view of the Commander changed, he wondered.
The answer was: when hadn't it?
In a span of weeks she went from merely his employer, to tentative friend, and trusted confidant. Now — well. Now it only appeared to be growing more complicated by the day, and yet, more intriguing as well.
The talks they shared were some of the most honest he ever had, especially since the passing of Irikah. Back then, she had been the only one who knew him. And while Shepard knew him best on a personal level, the crew of the Normandy were beginning to know him — they wanted to know him, on his own terms.
No one pressed topics he was not willing to discuss, though he found himself more open with them than originally anticipated. It was….enjoyable, to talk with others again. A simple pleasure once taken for granted, and now one he would not dismiss so easily.
Still, that was hardly an explaination for why he was becoming more and more attracted to Shepard. Or why she was entertaining it in the fashion she was.
On more than one occasion he had been reading a book out in the mess hall, when she came down to prepare a cup of coffee. She offered a small nod of acknowledgement as she passed, and his traitorous eyes followed her movements.
He memorized the gentle waves of her hair that spilled from the ponytail, how the dark brown locks gradually faded into la somewhat lighter shade; the natural sway of her hips with each step.
Not allowing himself to indulge further, he tore his gaze away, and attempted to refocus on his novel instead. It was rather alarming how easily she could manage to distract him, and certainly the last thing he wished to do was, however unintentionally, offend.
However it was becoming increasingly clear that the latter was less and less likely — from his perspective, it seemed as though she found it amusing. That fact was only solidified when his gaze lifted from the digital book once more, only to find half-lidded grey eyes staring directly at him.
Steam rose from her freshly poured coffee, well-manicured hands curled around the cup. For a moment, she said nothing, and he wondered if perhaps her mind was elsewhere. Soon after, her mouth pulled into a smirk, and she walks toward him with a ( purposefully? ) elongated stride.
"Your padd is upside down, Thane. "
Both sets of eyelids blink rapidly before he confirms that she was right, and he hadn't even noticed. The frills on the side of his neck darken a shade, as he casually corrects his mistake, playing it off with a faint grin — even if he is somewhat embarrassed at being caught so unawares. "Yes, thank you, Shepard. "
Most would be non the wiser, but as always, the Commander is far more perspective than she lets on, until an opportune moment is at hand.
Her expression is one of pure knowing amusement, and when she nearly passes him, her free hand graces a leather-clad shoulder. It lingers for a moment, fingers slowly dragging off until all that was left was the memory of warmth as she calls from the elevator, "Night."
Sleep does not find him easily afterward — but, he may have some ideas to pursue, regarding one Nova Shepard.
PART 2. SHEP'S P.O.V
She was not a shy woman.
Never had been, really. While normally beneficial, it certainly brought along it's own share of trouble now and then, too. For the time being though, it was extremely useful in catching the assassin off of his guard — and he had risen to the challenge to do the same, much to her delight.
At first, she wondered if those lingering looks of his had been misread. While he may have been humanoid in appearance, Shepard really wasn't familiar with the physicality of his species.
Miscommunication could definitely happen, on either end.
Which is why the first time she feels him brush against her as they move for cover, she doesn't think too much of it. Hell, even the second and third time it doesn't do much more than cause a split-second pause that is quickly overrun with the fact that bullets were quickly heading her way.
Clearly her lack of response warranted an up in ante though, because the next time they're in a firefight and in cover, he makes it impossible to interoperate the action as anything less than lascivious.
"These guys just keep on comin', don't they?"
Even among the onslaught of fire heading their way, she can hear his low chuckle to her side. "So it would appear. However, they are poorly organized. A small mercy, in the face of their numbers."
In her ear, she can hear Garrus being a smart-ass, lining up shots from the safety of his perch. Well, maybe safe was an overstatement, but the point remained — she'd like to hear him talking smack with explosives constantly getting hurled at his face.
A parted mouth, and she inhales, prepared to fire back at her long-time friend until that track of thought is quickly dissolved by the sudden encompassing body heat that envelopes her own. It's brief, in the grand scheme of things, but there's no way ignore it. Thane's chest is pressed against her back, his hand brushing lightly over her thigh, venturing upward.
"Pardon me," He murmurs, voice like a rumble of low thunder against the back of her neck. Against her will a faint shiver rolls up her spine, the tiny hairs on her neck standing on end with the even expels of hot air against the exposed skin. With controlled ease his fingers curl around one of the extra thermal clips to the utility belt around her hips. It pops out of it's holder with an audible sound, and he's still unnecessarily, but deliciously, close while he reloads his pistol as if he wasn't purposefully trying to put her hormones into overload.
While she can't see it immediately, she can practically feel him smirking when he says, "Thank you. " And pulls away to his own cover once more. Her suspicions are confirmed though when she manages a look amidst not getting her head blown off.
That sneaky bastard.
"That wasn't very nice, Thane." It probably doesn't help her argument if she doesn't look the least bit upset by it. It definitely doesn't help when her body is running more than a few degrees hotter, and she had shamelessly checked him out the rest of the mission.
Turn about was fair play though, and she was looking forward to it.
She can't quite pin point when this little game of theirs started — only that it had. There was no doubt in her mind where she wanted it to go ( a woman has needs, doesn't she? ) and from her perspective, it seemed like he might be, at the very least, curious.
Curious was good, she could work with that, see where it led.
The best part about the whole scenario though was that in his ploy to throw her off her game, to seduce her a little bit for the thrill of it, he seemed to wind up seducing himself a bit, too, if what she'd felt when he was pressed against her was any indication.
So, maybe she had a little more than curiosity to work with here. And damn if the whole thing was exciting and fun as hell. Although far from shy about her desires, the opportunity to indulge in them seemed to rarely come along. Before, it was mostly Alliance regs holding her back, combined with a tight schedule and just a lack of interest in anybody.
Her sex drive was far from silent, and she was never embarrassed by her sexuality, but few people held sustainable interest when it came to that department. Thane was the first person since she'd been brought back to catch her eye — with that two toned voice of his, like rough, dark velvet and an impeccable physique to match. Alien to her, maybe, but beautiful and alluring all the same. The similarities were nice, but she was more interested in discovering what the differences were.
If she was lucky, the interested would be returned.
A suicide mission an important, noble effort, and she was happy to be apart of it. But that didn't mean the thought of having sex, even once before possibly dying ( again ) wasn't an appealing one. It definitely was, and who could really blame her?
Back in her cabin a few hours after their return, she's seriously considering going for a run in the rec room to burn off some of the extra energy that's been eating at her. The scalding hot shower had been nice, but it had done little to dispel carnal thoughts from her head when she was trying to focus on mission reports.
Her skin felt hot, oversensitive — even being in only black panties and a loose tank top had helped that tight, almost uncomfortable feeling.
God, it really had been a long time since she'd had sex, if she was still feeling from that little encounter on the field.
EDI's voice over the intercom snapped her from her thoughts before things could have a chance at going downhill….again. "Shepard."
Rearranging some of the pads of paperwork, she responded with a faint sigh, "Yes, EDI? What is it?"
"Your privacy lock is on, and Sere Krios is outside. He wishes to speak with you. "
Eyebrows raising faintly, she could feel her pulse quicken faintly, heading to all the wrong ( right ) areas. It was either too good to be true, or a cosmic prank to worsen her sexual frustration for the amusement of the gods.
Well, she mused, only one way to find out. "I'll handle it, EDI. "
"Understood. Logging you out, Shepard. "
Standing from her desk, she nearly reaches for some proper clothes — pants, a bra — before her nature gets the better of her, and she decides to roll with her preferred straightforward, if reckless, approach.
It seemed like a fool-proof plan, at least. If he was only just messing with her because she was teasing him, it'd be pretty obvious. But, if it was more than that, she'd have her answer for that, too. At least in theory. Still, no time like the present, right?
Using her fingers to come out her hair slightly, it fell in gentle, natural waves over her shoulders without any immediate, unsightly tangles. But she wasn't going for perfect here, just presentable. In a casual, half-naked kind of way.
Padding over to her door, she unlocks it with a swipe of her hand. As the door slides open, revealing Thane with his hands behind his back, she does her best impression of casual, leaning against the door frame with a hand curled along her hip — grey eyes firmly locked on his frame from beneath dark lashes.
She lets a moment pass between him, taking stock in the slight shift in his weight, the surprised flutter of eyelids over dark, fathomless eyes. Which, for him, was fairly telling, considering who he was.
Reaffirmation settles into her gut, and her thighs press together slightly, further exaggerating the curve of her hip, causing the thin fabric of the tank top's hem to rise just a bit more —
"Thane. Something on your mind?"