I don't own Mass Effect

James knew upon meeting her that there was something subtly…off about the Commander. The way she moved at times, no one should be able to move like that. The way she looked at people sometimes, as if they were prey, like she was wondering what it would take to bring them down. Something lurked behind her eyes, something alien and at times, frightening. It wasn't all the time, however. Most days she was the Commander he always heard about, and then he got to know the woman. She laughed easily, and was incredibly charming and caring, her personality warm and open. His attraction to her came easy and sudden.

They were in the middle of a friendly sparring match when he saw a slight shift of muscle right before she laid him out on the mats, her body pinning his with a strength someone her size shouldn't have. That's when he saw it up close, a shadow passing over her eyes, the color sharpening briefly, something…inhuman taking over for just a brief moment. It kicked off every fight or flight response he had, and while that instinct always triggered him to fight, now it was telling him to run and run fast. He was looking at a predator that could kill him, that he had no chance of fighting and winning.

The look in her eyes changed from wondering how his blood would taste on her tongue to wondering how he tasted. She leaned into him, ducking under his chin and a shiver ran over his body as she smelled along his pulse point, lips brushing over the column of his throat. The low, appreciative sound had shook her chest but then she was off him, leaving the training room and him lying on the floor, the beginnings of an erection pressing against his pants.

He dreamed of her that night; coming into his room, hands moving over his bare chest, eyes glowing eerily in the light from the window as she looked up at him from by his groin. A choked groan catching in his throat as she pressed a kiss to hip. The look in her eyes had kept him from moving, freezing him in place as she took him in her hand, the corners of her lips curling. His alarm going off had cut the dream short, right before she went to take him into her mouth.

James almost couldn't face her that day, and the looks she gave him like she knew weren't helping.

Everything went on high alert when she had suddenly taken ill, locking herself away in her room, refusing to go to the medbay, her skin clammy and cold even as she was wracked by a dangerously high fever. She shivered as if she were freezing, color draining from her skin. He was the only one she would allow into the room, asking him to stay with her. All the food and drink was checked for poisons or toxins, but they had all eaten and drank the same thing and she was the only one that had gotten sick. Blood work showed she was suffering from an unknown viral infection.

This had lasted for a couple of days, her condition getting no better but no worse until one night he woke to her fingers tracing over his neck, having fallen asleep next to her on her bed. He opened his eyes, his heart lurching with fear as hers glowed dimly at him through the darkness of the room. Her lips were soft, hesitant, testing waters as they pressed against his and when he raised his hand to hold her jaw, her skin was soft and dry, warm but not feverish. James knew he shouldn't, knew he would get in all kinds of trouble if anyone found out, but he surrendered to the feel of her lips moving against his.

They made love slowly, holding her close as she rode him, pressing kisses to her breasts as her hands curled in his hair and against his back. When she came, her short nails dug into his skin hard enough that he knew she left marks and she let him release inside of her, holding him tightly as he shuddered and shook, groaning into her skin.

He woke on the couch the next morning, fully dressed sans his boots and he was left wondering whether or not it had really happened, or if it had been another dream. James left while she was still asleep, she also dressed in her pajamas, heading back to his room. Those thoughts vanished, however, when he pulled his shirt off to shower, wincing as the skin on the back stretched and twinged. Turning, he looked in the mirror, seeing the crescent marks cutting into his skin.

Sarah acted no different towards him and he wasn't sure whether or not he should be hurt or relieved.

Then the Reapers attacked and everything was moving very fast. Once they had a clear objective, however, and he was stationed on the Normandy, she started pulling him aside or into empty rooms, pressing herself against him and kissing him, hands moving down his back to palm his ass, pulling him into her. He could still remember the feel of her skin against his, the way she felt wrapped around him, and he was all too happy to pick up where they left off.

They didn't keep their relationship a secret. Why should they? She was a Council Spectre, not technically a part of the Alliance Military anymore, so while he fought under her command, she wasn't his Commanding Officer.

She started vanishing for days a time in the Loft, no one, not even him, allowed entry. EDI kept every one out, locking down the Loft.

One night a shiver of fear and uneasiness crawled down his spine, driving him out of his seat in the mess and to the elevator. Something was wrong, he needed to get to her. The door was locked, the interface red, what sounded like a battle raging on the other side. His hand punched against the bulkhead as something crashed and broke. The door suddenly went green and slid open and a force slammed against his chest, driving the air from his lungs as he hit the deck, looking up at a giant golden wolf with clear green eyes staring down at him, lips drawn back in a snarl.

It relaxed, and its nose brushed along his chest and neck, sniffing him and taking in his scent. The wolf suddenly laid down on him, tucking its head under his chin and sighing. Very slowly, he wrapped his arms around it, a sense of ease and calm washing over him. At the touch of his hands, it licked him, lifting its head to look at him again, a look that was all too familiar passing over its eyes.

"Sarah?" He asked, and her head tucked under his chin again, large body deflating in a sigh. After a while, she got off him, letting him up off the floor and watched him from the bed as he picked up the mess that was the Loft. Ship models were shattered, some beyond repair, decorative pillows shredded, stuffing littering the floor. The same feeling as before skittered down his spine and he turned, seeing her laying there on the bed, nude, her muscles and bones still shifting and squirming under her skin.

"I'm sorry I never told you." She said and he made a small sound.

"I wouldn't have believed you if you had." James said honestly, going over to the bed and laying down next to her, wrapping her in his arms as she curled against his side.

"You're taking this very well." She said, looking up at him with her chin on his chest.

"I think I kind of already knew. I mean, I suspected, this just kind of tied it all together for me." He said, "How'd this happen to you?"

"It's a long story."

"Are there more of…whatever you are?"

"As far as I know; no. I'm the only one."

"Those scratches you gave me. I'm not going to…"

"If you were going to, you would have already. I would never do this to you without your permission, never force this on you. Not like it was me." Sarah said, relaxing with her head on his chest and he was silent for a long while.

"What if I gave you my permission?" he asked and she picked her head up to look at him, scowling at him. "What if I asked you to…infect me? I don't want you to go through this alone, Sarah."

"We'll talk about it later. I'm tired." She said and he nodded. He went to get up but her hand tightened on his chest. "No. Please stay." James settled again, holding her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep.

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