A/N – This was originally a kinkmeme prompt, which means a rather large chunk in the middle had to be removed and edited to make this FFnet appropriate. As always, the full version can be found at Archive of Our Own.

James Vega was an hour and a half past the end of his shift. He'd found five crates full of weapons upgrades that had somehow never been logged and doing that had become the one thing he had to get done tonight. It was stupid, and he knew it was stupid, but they were three relays away from Earth and not heading back anytime soon, and if he didn't finish something he was going to have to hit something instead.

Four crates down and one to go. James rubbed the sore muscles at the back of his neck and was just reaching for the last crate when he heard the elevator door open. He peeked through a gap in the crates and saw Shepard and one of the turians they'd picked up on Palaven's moon. Not the Primarch, the other one - Vakarian. She hit him lightly in the arm as they exited the elevator and he chuckled.

"Starting a little early, aren't you?" Vakarian asked.

"Just reminding you not to pull your punches," Shepard said.

Huh, and James had thought his dance with Lola was something special. He thought about letting them know he was there, but he had a feeling Shepard wouldn't be happy he was working late. And he was kind of curious to see if she'd beat Vakarian as easily as she'd beaten him.

They left his field of vision for a moment, and he heard them dragging something along the floor. They reappeared after a few seconds, and he recognized the mats Shepard had asked Cortez to acquire on their last visit to the Citadel.

"How many rounds do you want to go?" Shepard asked.

"Rounds, she says," Vakarian shook his head. "You think you're going to last long enough for that?"

"And here I was going to go easy on you."

Vakarian just snorted. Shepard dropped into a ready stance and raised her chin in challenge. He ignored her and made a show of rolling his shoulders, loosening up, before doing the same. They locked gazes, and James could feel the tension all the way across the room. Vakarian shifted his weight to his back foot, and as if that was a signal, Shepard launched herself at him, ducking his swing and dropping into a crouch to sweep his legs. He grunted and turned the fall into a roll, coming back up just out of her reach.

Or at least, that's what Vakarian thought, if the look of surprise as Shepard knocked into him was any indication. He landed on hard on his back, Shepard's knees on either side of his waist, her hands on his upper arms as she used her full weight against him. James was impressed. He'd gone a few rounds with turians himself and had never taken one down that fast.

Shepard grinned down at Vakarian, "Now who needs multiple rounds?"

Oh yeah, Shepard was definitely a Lola.

Vakarian flexed the muscles in his arms, but Shepard just pressed down harder. "So much for reach," she smirked, leaning down and – whoa. Whoa. Okay. James wasn't up on all the details of turian body language, but he was pretty sure nibbling on a – what did they call them, mandibles? - was more than a friendly how've you been? So, Lola had a thing for spiky aliens. Didn't that just figure.

Vakarian made a strangled sound, and she let go of his arms to lay one hand along his jaw, angling his head for a kiss, and ran the nails of her other hand up his neck and back under his fringe. The kiss went longer than James expected. If Vakarian had been human, he might have found it hot, but he was too distracted by how strange the whole thing looked, not to mention trying to figure out how a kiss with a species that had no lips worked in the first place. They parted and looked at each other for a moment before Vakarian put his hands on her waist and pulled her down again. Shepard was really getting into it, her body moving in ways that were going to fuel James' fantasies for weeks. He had no idea how Vakarian was keeping his hands in one place. Shit, her ass was right there.

He was so busy watching said ass that he missed whatever Shepard did next. What he didn't miss was Vakarian's reaction. He actually growled and flipped them, mouth finding her neck as he pinned her with his hips. She gasped, the sound just on the edge of a moan, and okay, maybe that was a little hot. Then Vakarian started using his tongue and she really did moan and it stopped being a little bit hot and started being an honest to god turn-on. James cursed internally. Watching a sparring match was one thing. Watching this was something else entirely, but there was no way he could leave without being noticed. He didn't feel bad about watching – if they were that worried about someone seeing, they shouldn't be going at it in the middle of the shuttle bay – but now that he was actually reacting to them, it was going to be hell waiting for them to finish so he could get himself off.

Shepard's eyes were half-shut and she bit her lip as Vakarian moved his mouth to her collarbone. He still had his hands at her waist, and he began teasing up the bottom edge of her shirt. Her eyes re-opened and she pulled at his fringe.

"Wait. Garrus, wait."

He stopped and pulled his hands back, mandibles twitching in what James couldn't help but interpret as nervousness. "Ah, right. Sorry."

"No," she grabbed his hands. "It's not that. I forgot to tell you that we've got a reporter on the ship. I stuck her in engineering." She glanced over his shoulder, and he followed her gaze to the large window on the upper floor that had a perfect view of the area. James didn't know whether to be disappointed or grateful that they'd stopped.

"So, do you want to take this elsewhere?" Vakarian asked, sounding like he wasn't at all frustrated by the interruption. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hell, no." Shepard pushed him off and up. "Six months, Vakarian." She let him pull her up after him and put her hands on his chest, pushing him back towards the requisitions console. She marched them across the room the way she crossed a battlefield - which had already been distracting, never mind what it was going to be after tonight. James shifted as quietly as he could to change the angle of his view and tried to ignore the growing tightness of his pants.

Shepard maneuvered them around the console until they were on the side nearest the elevator. She glanced up, checking that they were out of sight, then grinned and dropped her hands to his waist and pulled him against her. "Now, where were we?" she purred.

Shirt, James thought. You were at the shirt.

Vakarian was on the same page, because he immediately started to tug her shirt up. He got distracted as soon as it hit the underside of her breasts and ran the back of his fingers along the flat of her stomach, bringing them to rest just above her hips. James could only assume the waist was to turians what breasts were to humans, because he could not figure out why Vakarian was so fascinated with Shepard's otherwise. Granted, it was a very nice waist, but her ass was one of the best asses he'd ever seen, and he was pretty sure her breasts were going to be just as good. Thankfully, Shepard finished what Vakarian started and pulled her shirt the rest of the way off, leaving her in just her sports bra. She peeled off his shirt too, and then they were kissing again and Vakarian finally took his hands off her waist to drag his talons down her spine, making her arch against him. He backed her up against the console, then put his hands on her waist again and lifted her to sit on the edge.

James undid the fly of his pants, just to relieve the pressure.

Vakarian pressed up between her legs and leaned over her, one hand in the small of her back. She clutched at the console for support as he dipped his head back down to her neck. One of her hands landed on the interface panel and she froze.

"Wai- oh god," she shivered and made a visible effort to gather herself. "Garrus, hold on a second."

He pressed his head into her shoulder, "Dammit, Shepard. Again?" His voice wasn't quite as steady this time, and James grinned. Not so cool after all.

Shepard sat up and poked at the console a few times until the interface turned off. "I don't want to have to explain to Cortez tomorrow why I ordered enough sunfish to open my own sushi restaurant."

Vakarian started laughing. Shepard tilted her head and waited as he shook with helpless amusement, a self-satisfied look on her face. "Feel better?" she asked, when he finally stopped. In James' experience, that sort of thing tended to kill the sexual tension, but when Vakarian raised his head, the look in his eyes was just as intense as it had been before. "Good," she said, and pulled him in for another kiss. He ran his hands down her back again, then palmed her breasts. She rested her weight on her hands and pushed up against him encouragingly. Most of her back was to James, so he couldn't see exactly what Vakarian was doing, but hopefully this meant she'd be losing the bra soon.

Shepard made that half-gasp, half-moaning sound again, and Vakarian abruptly left her breasts to start removing her pants. Yeah, okay. That was good too. Shepard lifted her hips to help, wrapping her calves around the back of his thighs for leverage. She had to unwrap them again so he could finish the action, but she kept her legs spread, leaning back on her elbows with an expression that said she was pure trouble. Vakarian put his hands on her now-bare thighs and just looked at her, and for once James didn't blame him.

After about a minute of that, she cocked an eyebrow at Vakarian and said, "You just going to stare all night?"

He slid his hands up her inner thighs in response. "No," he said, and James really wished he could see what Vakarian did next, because it made Shepard's whole body tense up and her hands curled into fists. Vakarian did it again, and she fell back against the console completely. The next few minutes were a steady stream of moans and yes, there and oh, god and fuck, Garrus, the last a bit more desperate than the rest and right before she reached down to grasp the bottom edge of the console and push against his fingers as she came.

The funny thing was, when James imagined Shepard having sex (and he had definitely imagined it), she'd always been on top. Fucking, rather than being fucked, as it were. Two minutes in her company was enough to know she didn't take shit from anyone and she had the kind of presence that made people call her ma'am and salute reflexively. Even under house arrest, she'd come across as being in complete control. Not that she wasn't in control now; she was clearly running this little encounter. But seeing her under someone was unexpected and so much hotter than James had thought possible.

Shepard sat up a little shakily and put her hands on the waistband of Vakarian's pants. Things progressed rather quickly after that. He took her hard against the console until she came again with a cry. Vakarian followed soon after, and James may have gotten off watching them, too. But quietly, since he didn't have a death wish.

Shepard lay boneless on the console, eyes closed and breathing hard, looking like a posed illustration of the term "well-fucked". She made a contented sound as Vakarian slumped over her and pressed his forehead against hers. He started to slip out of her, but she tightened her legs around his hips and he stopped and ran his hands along her arms instead. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and James had the sudden feeling that whatever was between the two of them went way beyond just sex. That was the look his abuela used to get when she talked about his abuelo, dead long before James was born.

Vakarian lowered his head to kiss her, and the movement somehow looked hesitant despite all they'd just done. She closed her eyes again and ran her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders to pull him closer. It seemed like it would be awkward with his cowl, but they made it work. When the kiss ended, they leaned their heads back together and the whole thing struck James as more intimate than anything else they'd done that evening. And also as something that he really, really should not be watching.

After a few moments, Vakarian leaned back again, and this time she let him pull out of her. He helped her unhook her legs from around his waist and rubbed gently at the marks his hip bones had left against her skin. She yawned, then gave him a sheepish grin when he glanced up at her. She slid off the console and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. He returned the embrace and brought one hand up to run his talons idly through her hair.

"Long day?" he asked.

She laughed humorlessly, "Long everything." She pressed her eyes shut. "I have to believe we can win this, but every time I stop and think about how much needs to happen before we're even close to being ready – I don't know."

This James did not want to hear. He'd teased her about being larger than life to the rank and file, but deep down, she was still Commander Shepard to him: first and only human Spectre, savior of Citadel and Council, and protector of defenseless human colonies. He believed in the legend as much as anyone. He needed Shepard to be the one person who wasn't just putting on a brave face; the person who not only knew they could beat the Reapers, but was going to rearrange the galaxy to make it happen. Her doubts weren't meant for his ears, and not even the fact that he finally had a great view of her naked ass made up for the fact that he didn't want to hear them.

"You'll get it done. Won't be the first time we've beaten the odds. And what's that human saying – third time's the trinket?"

She laughed, "Charm. Third time's the charm." She lifted her head off his chest to look at him. "Did I tell you how much I've missed you?"

"You might have mentioned it," Vakarian pulled her in even closer, and the look in his eyes was obvious even across species. James looked away, uncomfortable. This was private shit.

"I missed you." Shepard's voice was soft, but not quite soft enough for James not to catch her words. They were quiet after that, and the silence went on for so long that he risked another look. They were touching foreheads again. That had to be another turian thing, like Vakarian's obsession with waists.

The affecting moment – the kind that should really take place behind closed doors, and not where it could be overseen by hardworking Marines logging a few extra hours – was interrupted when Shepard yawned again. Vakarian chuckled, "Trying to tell me something?"

"As if you had nothing to do with it." She sighed and withdrew from his arms, "I probably should get to bed. Chakwas has been dropping hints about the importance of quality sleep. God knows I'll need it for this summit."

They went about the business of dressing themselves far too quickly for James' tastes. He doubted he was going to get chance to see Shepard like this again and would have liked a little more time to appreciate the view. She did turn around at least once before the pants went back on, and that was a picture he'd cherish for a long time.

Vakarian put the mats away while Shepard rummaged around Cortez's work area until she found a rag. Then she stuck her head in the space below and came up with a bottle of cleaning fluid that James hadn't even known was there. She proceeded to wipe down the console with an efficiency that would make any drill sergeant proud. The bottle went back to the workbench afterwards, but she put the rag in her pocket rather than in the pile with the rest of the used rags. Thank you, James thought. He was on general clean-up that week.

Shepard looked around for a moment, then, almost as an afterthought, leaned over and turned the interface panel back on. James knew one of the differences between a leader who was merely good and one who was great was their ability to focus on the important details, but he never thought he'd see that particular skill used to hide the evidence of a late night booty call.

Vakarian called the elevator, and as they stood there waiting, Shepard tucked her hand in his like they were kids on their first date or something. James hoped they weren't going to start doing shit like that around the ship. It was embarrassing to watch. The elevator door opened and Vakarian cleared his throat.

"Do you, uh, want me to walk you to your cabin?"

Out of everything, that was what almost made James give himself away. Smooth, Vakarian, he thought, clamping down hard on a laugh, real smooth.

Shepard paused, one foot in the elevator, "I was hoping you'd walk me to my bed."

Vakarian's frame relaxed a little. "I can do that," he said, following her in. The door swished shut behind them.

James waited until he was sure they wouldn't be back for anything before letting himself stretch his cramped muscles. He looked at where the last crate of upgrades sat, still unopened. It didn't seem quite so urgent anymore. He wiped his hands on his pants, making a mental note to put them in the laundry tomorrow rather than wait for the end of the week, and stood. Bed was sounding pretty good.

Later, staring at underside of the upper bunk, James realized that the night's events meant that Vakarian was probably going to be around for a while. Well, crap. He'd have to come up with a nickname now.