A/N: A Mass Effect break while I plot my next DA2 story. Been working on this one for a few months actually, it'll be about 4 chapters hehe. Written in response to the following request on the ME kmeme:

Grunt has developed a teenage crush on his Battlemaster and she just isn't getting the non-too-subtle hints he's been dropping her. He decides to try more human methods to get her attention, resulting in totally awkward not so krogan behavior. Shepard keeps unknowingly doing things that turn him on or make him fantasize about her. It's driving him nuts. Grunt does the strutting, muscle flexing, so-totally-male thing to attract Shepard. She isn't taking the bait.


Her hands moving with deadly trained precision, Shepard assembled the shotgun in five seconds flat - efficiency that even a perfect krogan could appreciate. The large gun in one piece, she ran her hand down the barrel, biting the tip of her tongue as she spun it and placed it grip toward him on the table.

"So what do you think," she said with an arch of her brow.

Eyes turning down, Grunt plucked the gun up, testing its weight and clicking the training rounds on. Turning towards the target, he shot until the sink hissed and he ejected it onto the floor with a satisfied sound.

"More rounds in less time," he assessed, laying it on the table. He was distracted as Shepard's fingers toyed over the barrel again. "A better stabilizer too."

"Mhm," Shepard replied, leaning an elbow onto the table. She motioned to the gun, "It's yours, if you want it."

His Battlemaster favoured a Viper rifle - a more delicate gun that suited the unassuming precision with which she executed all of her kills.

"Many will die by it in your name, Shepard," Grunt said as appraised the gun again, "I will be there to kill for your honour. And if you wish it back, you have but ask."

"Oh come on, Grunt," Shepard cavalierly said, standing up from the crate, "I'd never think of playing with another man's gun." Punching something in on her omni-tool, she turned towards the elevator. "Be ready for the mission at 1800."

Grunt watched her go, feeling a certain itch under his armour. Something that hissed in his blood. He cracked his shoulders back to try and ease the tension, but it remained. It was unsettling.


"Hey," Jack leaned in the open doorway as Grunt worked the tool through his shotgun. It had gotten particularly bloody in the raid on the Blue Sun's base.

"Hmph. Jack," he replied scarce looking up from his work. He did not need to look. He could tell each of the crew by smell.

"Figured if anyone, you'd be the first to line up around the ring," Jack casually said, arms crossed as she looked out the windows into the cargo hold. "Shepard's set to spar against that turian of hers."

"A pet turian," Grunt said, "I like that."

"He might as well be," Jack sneered, "The way he follows her."

"She is worthy of being followed."

"Yeah, whatever," Jack said, sighing as she pushed off the door. "I just want to watch them kick the shit out of each other. Better than their usually pussy-footing."

Grunt glanced again, and Jack was gone. Abandoning his work, he took the elevator into the cargo hold, feet clomping heavily as he advanced out to where the bout was already underway. He lingered behind the Cerberus crewmembers, listening to their hushed chatter as Shepard and Garrus circled. They traded taunts under their breath, voices beyond his recognition.

When Garrus launched at the Commander, she moved with stealthy precision, sidestepping to clip her hand at a point in his side. He knew the spot - a flash of imagery was there in his mind from the tank. The turian cursed and recovered without hesitation, rolling to catch the back of Shepard's knee before flipping her across the ring.

Bare foot skidding on the mat, Shepard was up again to dodge his attack, planting a hand to snap a succession of kicks that Garrus easily blocked. She smiled in a predatory way, the sentiment reflected equally on the turian's maw. The exchange continued, almost seeming choreographed as they blocked and parried, limbs snapping, dexterity matching reach with ease.

Grunt rumbled quietly, crossing his arms over as he watched, trying to decide who was toying with who - or if there was purpose to their delay. They were like varren chasing a bone.

"Come on, Vakarian," Jacob said from where he stood, "You gonna let a woman do that to you?"

Shepard caught Garrus by the waist, and throwing her weight pinned him to the ground. The turian loudly cursed as she wrenched one of his leg spurs and tightly grasped his fringe. She released with equal speed, springing up to offer him a hand.

"You're fucking cheap, Shepard," Garrus coughed, hand on the back of his neck as he shook out his limbs. "I'm not wearing my covers next time."

"Oooo, the gloves come off," Shepard said with a smirk, crossing her arms. She nodded at his taloned hands, "Literally."

"Yeah. Whatever," Garrus snagged some of the water Tali had, stalking away through the cabin. "My disadvantage I was trained to kill you. Sorry for the restraint."

"Such a baby," Shepard laughed, sweat glistening on her brow. She stretched her limbs as Joker reached to snag credit chits from some of the crew. "Seriously? You bet against me?" She sounded hurt.

"Naw no no," Joker said, waving a hand. "They just thought you'd beat him faster. Sucks to be them."

"Who's flying the ship?" Shepard said, wiping down with a towel.

"EDI, duh," Joker tucked the chits into a pocket on his hip. Rolling his eyes, he limped towards the elevator. "Fine, fine. Real downer."

A few more words with her crew, and Shepard was soon free, though she stopped her movements as she saw Grunt still standing there.

"You are small and squishy, but stronger than most any I have seen. Not like the images from the tank," Grunt rumbled, arms still crossed as he watched her. "Exploitive and decisive, your foes seem to crumple under you, no matter their size."

"Er, thanks Grunt," Shepard said with a politic grin. She punched something in on her omni-tool before walking closer. "Really though, my Alliance training has heavily prepared me for any sort of combat against turians."

"Your training is superior."

Shepard grinned smugly as she stripped the ripped tape on her hands, "Yeah, that might be the case. But we won't tell him that."

"There were many images in the tank of ways to kill turians - of during the rebellions," Grunt said, watching her flex her hands. "Though they won, they were not met without a fight.

Shepard hesitated, "Have you actually tried any hand-to-hand Grunt? I mean, I guess not. I was there the day you were born, huh."
Grunt scoffed and ruminated, "I have seen enough. I know the methods to kill my foes, and I will taste their blood."

Grinning, Shepard snagged her tape and started wrapping her hands again, "Sounds like a lot of talk, big boy. How about we go?"

Grunt bristled, "I have no true desire to injure you, Shepard."

"Oh! Big man thinks he's going to get his ass kicked - won't even try fighting the pitiful human woman."

"I have seen you on the battlefield," Grunt impressed, "You are no weakling."

Shepard smirked and sat on a crate to wrap her ankles, "Shouldn't krogan be eager to test their prowess against anyone? Especially their Battlemaster?" She smoothed the tape, testing the flexibility, "How do you know you aren't being led around by someone your lesser?"

Grunt looked aside, shifting his weight before he said, "I am... unfamiliar with the rules of such spars. To fight without the intent to kill."

"Then this is an even better lesson," Shepard said with a grin. "Restraint is as much a tool as brute strength."

Huffing slightly, Grunt crossed his arms, "I am not so certain. Why hesitate when you can simply be rid of your target?"

"You don't always want them dead," Shepard said, double-checking her tape job. She was flexing as Grunt seemed to square off, and laughed, "Take off your armour."

Grunt's arms dropped as he shifted uncomfortably, narrowing his eyes at her to gauge her intent.

"What," Shepard smirked, "You don't think I get to hop about flimsy and unprotected while you charge at me with your shields and armour, do you? Or you got something to hide under there?"

Cracking the seal around his neck, Grunt pried away the armour over his hump with a soft growl, "It is as much a part of me as my gun."

"And we aren't using guns." Shepard flashed a coy smile, "Come on, boy."

Eyeing his commander, Grunt stripped the rest of his armour away with methodical care. A tension rose between his shoulders, down to very simple coverings that concealed none of his alien physiology. Squatting and moving, he stretched and cracked as he watched her. Shepard had the same smirk as he said, "I look forward to this challenge, Battlemaster."

Poised on the balls of her feet, Shepard absently flexed her hand as she watched Grunt move. The krogan was heavy footed, and it was scarce a moment before he grumbled and charged at her. Fluid as the air, Shepard sidestepped him and caught one of his shoulder plates, using his momentum to twirl and plant him face first on the ground. Weight grinding on her knee, she leant on a soft spot on his side as Grunt choked on a sound.

"See?" Shepard whispered by his cheek, grinning devilishly, "I barely had to do anything at all."

Rending his arm, Grunt pulled away, and Shepard was on her feet again with a simple bounce. They met again as the krogan threw his weight into her, and Shepard took it, spinning to knee him. Grunt growled again, grappling with her at the low blow, and the woman only became more mirthful.

"You think I don't know what I'm doing, Grunt?" Shepard said as she caught his arm, flowing to bend it taut, nearly immobilizing him. "A quad just makes 'em easier to hit."

"You're toying with me," he growled, shaking his arm as she released it.

"I might be," Shepard licked her lips, grinning, "A little."

"Then what it the point?"

"Obviously not toying with you enough," she said, expression losing its animation as she poised again.

This time Grunt maintained a greater amount of calm, looking over the details of her form. Each honed muscle was tensed, ready to move in reaction to his brashness. There was a flush on her skin and her eyes were slightly dilated - prepared to trap her prey. He hunkered down, shifting his posture to ready for attack, setting his weight so he might more easily move.

Grunt's nostrils flared as he stalked sideways, keeping equidistance between them on the mat. The scent of her exertion was there, her body and subtle stings of metallic's - her implants. A glisten on her forehead. He flexed his hand again. He would not be her prey.

"Better," she whispered, offering a predatory grin, "Maybe you are learning."

He offered a grunt, baring his own teeth in reply.

Shepard's eyes darted a moment before she moved, a snap-kick catching the unguarded back of his knee. Grunt swayed, and she used it to box his ear. He growled in reply. That she knew krogan well enough for that. His temper and blood flared, and he used the drive to catch her limb. His three fingers coiled on her calf, pinching the muscle. It brought her pain - he could see it in her eyes. Another thud inside set his blood. He felt her weight in his grasp a moment before her other leg snapped across his face, and he dropped her.

Staggering back with a moment's disorientation, Grunt rumbled satisfyingly, looking at Shepard through slitted eyes as she rolled back up to her feet.

"Feline," Grunt murmured, lowering his centre of gravity again.

They exchanged a few more blows, Shepard deflecting his punches as much as his tough scales deadened her snaps. The Commander began to pant with the exertion, and it spurred Grunt on - he finally caught her, and the pair fell to the ground, Shepard's face on the mat and her breasts squished beneath them.

"Fuck me!" she swore, testing the grip he had on her.

"I don't recognize this word," Grunt chuckled at the back of her head.

Shepard laughed oddly, shaking her head as she panted, "It's nothing."

The scent was stronger. There on her weak skin. It was not fear. There was no fear in his battlemaster. Just fire. Grunt nipped at the back of her neck, "Less than an inch, Shepard."

Wriggling with surprising flexibility, Shepard twisted and hit home in the quad this time, choking Grunt with the bright flash of pain, "You got lucky." Panting as she limped and regained herself, "Bastards with redundant systems."

The pain took a backseat as he saw her limp - thrilled to see her weakened, and Grunt chuckled, pushing himself up. He tensed, positioning himself low. She would not win so easily.

"I already had a fight today, you know," Shepard said, scarce aware of his posture. She pulled in a deep breath, shaking her leg again as she turned her eyes on him.

Grunt laughed, using the weakness once more, and his charge caught her full bore. His legs burnt as he slammed her back off the mat, pinned against one of the coolant fans. There was a defined crack.

Shepard swore more loudly, her head lolling back as she started to wheeze a laugh, "Nice move. Catching me off-guard. Perfect." When Grunt pressed her to the metal and growled against her neck, she squeaked, "You're learning."

"You are a better teacher than the tank," Grunt grumbled against her, his body dwarfing her. Soft, small, but deadly. There was something else there now, the sweat and her body. It sparked in his gut. "A fine challenge."

Shepard's eyes glazed as she gupped for air, struggling to draw it in, "I think I need to go to med-bay."

Pulling away, Grunt laughed with the thrill of the fight. Shepard crumpled before he could clap arms with her, a rush of air escaping as though deflated. Huffing a bit, his face twitched, "Shepard?"

Paled and prone, Shepard almost shook with a slight laugh, before the pain rippled over her features, and she hushed, "Get Chakwas."