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He could not believe it when he first heard her suggestion. She had leaned against his panel, arms crossed triumphantly with a devious smirk on her face. Me, He thought, considering her other options, she's asking me? He respected her immensely, so without thinking about the indelible consequences, agreed. After some consideration, however, many thoughts plagued his mind: I don't even know the comprehensive physiology of humans, is sex the same for them? What if it's terrible? What if she finds me atrocious? I could physically wound her - I could ruin our friendship.
More than anything else, he did not want to do anything deleterious to their mutual relationship; he could not lose her again. He had venerated her two years ago, and tried to follow in Shepard's footsteps after her death. She was an excellent leader, and could perform impossible feats, while still refusing to risk her ethics in dire situations. Their visit to Dr. Saleon taught him that he could control his vengeance and be better for it – But he lost that when she died. He saw how readily the council and the citadel forgot their saviour, relegated her image to frivolous schemes and adverts to make credits. It sickened him, so he left the citadel for a second time, figuring he could fix problems in Omega without the law obstructing him. He imagined she would rebuke him for leaving after his assurance he would be going back, but she had been dead and he wanted to do more then the bureaucracy of the Citadel would allow.
His original purpose, his fervour to do what was 'right' and to stop injustice overpowered him. He lost it all to a misjudgement, his men dead and now he was going to die – Then she came back with that confident gait: Shepard, running to meet his alias, Archangel. She had greeted him with mirth in her eyes and her arms spread, welcoming, and he felt so relieved that he was no longer alone. She stepped in his sites and protected Sidonis from revenge. She pushed him, forced him to acknowledge a higher path once more. He knew what was right, but grey was hard to recognize amidst the harsh atonality of black against white that he had lived in for two years.
He thought he knew his place aboard the Normandy, settling back into a station, he knew where he belonged; and then she asked him to step out of his boundaries again to be more than friends. Spirits, he had been buffeted by a lot in his life, he had been through emotional hell, but this was a shock he had never prepared for. She had never been seemed interested in Kaidan, despite his overt interest in her. He could not read how she judged other men, how she judged him; he couldn't fathom why she would choose him when she had so many others (even the occasional woman) vying for her attention.
As usual she seemed collected and cool and assured him despite his trepidation that she did not want anyone but him, and he acquiesced to her request. He was not sure if it was because he did not want to disappoint her, or if he felt more than esteem. They had spent quite a bit of time together; he went with her on nearly every mission two years ago, and that did not change once she picked him up from Omega; hell, he even caught the plague for her. She trusted him more than anyone else, he appreciated that, and he knew he could place his life in her hands and without reservation, she would be there.
How did she feel emotionally though? Shepard had always been understanding and respectful, even when she disagreed. But it was not even their amicability or mutual understanding. He did not have a sexual preoccupation with humans, yet Shepard was different. He always felt a connection to her, just not sure to what degree. Her rosy cheeks and violet eyes were charming, but he never thought of her erotically, that is until after she propositioned him; then the idea captivated him. He caught himself daydreaming about how her hair would feel to touch, or just how supple her body was (he had heard stories).
Mordin had attempted a conversation about human sexuality with him soon after Shepard's proposition.
"Human and turian coital engagements similar, still important topics to discuss..."
Garrus was aghast and started toward the door mumbling about diagnostics he had to do before Mordin could finish. Amused at Garrus' embarrassment, Mordin added with a nod that he had sent educational videos to Garrus' omni-tool on turian/human relations. Just how much gossip did EDI spread around this damn ship, anyway? He had thought angrily. Perhaps it was not EDI's fault though, the crew picked up on Shepard's and his behaviour. Garrus never strayed far from her side when on a mission; he saw it as a natural to protect the commanding officer but he knew if she fell he scrambled to reach her before the other team-mates did and help her to her feet. It was a quiet gesture, maybe it had not been ignored. They threw jocular commentary back and forth, playing off of the other's dry sense of humour. Either way it did not matter now; here he was, standing in front of her, wine in hand, nervous and kicking himself for telling her that he would be prepared when in truth he had been so timorous of what he would find that he did not look up anything.
"Crap, I knew I should have watched the vids," he rebuked himself aloud.
The only information he had about the sexual appetites of human women was from boastful turians whose sincerity of experience was dubious. It was not about that really, he figured that they could work around out the physical aspect of the relationship, but he wanted more than that, a meaningful connection, and hoped she did too. He did not initially recognize just how much he felt for her, until the idea of losing her again at the collector base entered his mind.
She brought him back from his contemplation, told him it was fine; but in truth he was just terrified that he would fuck up with her, just like he seemed to do with everything else.
"I've seen so many things go wrong, and for once I just want something to go right."
She stood silently, placing her small hand on his scarred face, and looked at him. Her eyes were amazing: Startling in their depth, they were like the ether in amethyst agate, swirling like the galaxies they travelled to. He reached up and tentatively touched her arm, wondering what it would feel like without material separating them.
"Garrus, you try to take the blame for things you can't control, but you have more power than you give yourself credit for," she spoke gently.
"I want you with me tonight Garrus. I have confidence in you."
There was emotion in her tone, and Garrus' eyepiece captured her rising pulse; he removed it in one swift gesture and sat it on her desk. Despite the fun of watching her heart rate, he wanted to see her with both eyes unoccupied.
"I was wondering if I would have to ask you to remove that," she raised her brow and smiled, "I'm glad you came, Garrus. You look nice."
He made a mock scoff at her admission: "Oh yeah? It must be the face paint. I reapplied it just for you."
She laughed recalling her past suggestion, "You were too confident, I just had to knock you down a few pegs, you know?"
He nodded unbelieving, "Right, because I was just overflowing with presumptuous self-assurance before. I'm glad you kept my pride in check." his mandibles spread in a smile and she crossed her arms.
"How wise of you to agree." she simpered. Shepard was charming when she opened up, it was not often he saw her so unreserved. Garrus was glad to see a lift from the sombre atmosphere that seemed to be hovering over the ship since the crew was abducted. She cleared her throat and asked: "So you didn't watch the vids, huh? Me neither. You speak with Mordin about us too?" she took the wine from his hand, placed it on her desk and motioned for him to take a seat on her lounge.
"No, yeah, wait you didn't?" He looked at her with surprise as he made himself comfortable on the small sofa.
"Noooo, heh. I couldn't do it. I figured I would just let the pieces fall into place themselves." she sat near him. He caught her fragrance: It was a soft scent, like mist off of crashing ocean waves.
"That's just like you, Shepard."
"And just like you, too, I presume," a playful tone in her retort, "You can't push all of the blame on me, you know! Where's the analgesic I'll be needing –Or did you even know anything about that?" she said with false accusation. She scooted closer and felt his heat. He radiated it, she wondered if he was always like that, or it was a momentary state.
"Analgesic?" he asked to her with a bewildered tone. "Shepard," he sighed, "I want to give you... I just...Well what I mean to say is that I know I'm not really prepar-" she silenced him with her finger against his mouth.
"It's OK. You know I was just joking about the medication right? I have everything we might need, you might have to administer a shot of adrenaline to my heart or something," she laughed at the suggestion.
"So you brought the splints and slings, too?" he inquired, forgetting his solemnity, "I'm sure you'll end up with at least one broken bone."
She raised her eyebrows in exaggeration. "Hell Garrus I was ready for bloodshed and all I'm getting is few broken bones? Gone soft Vakarian?"
Garrus laughed and shrugged, "I'm only soft compared to you commander. Besides, you know me, I'm such a gentleman."
She snorted, "Yeah like that time you shot me."
"Are you talking about those concussive rounds back on Omega? And you call me soft?" They both laughed.
He lifted his hand and ran a hand through her hair quickly.
Shepard slowly leaned in, placing her lips directly where his would be. His body stiffened. He had never experienced anything like it to compare. Her mouth darted around his. She felt was wet and warm. He closed his eyes and pushed into her lips when they pressed into him. She opened her eyes and pulled her face back to watch him. He lingered a moment looking at her expression. She looked relaxed so he reclined back and tried to loosen his muscles.
"You smell good: Sylvan and rustic," she said inhaling deeply. Before he could respond she grabbed his hand with her own. Her small fingers lithely moving around his hand. He watched her curiously. She turned his hand palm up, and split her four fingers into pairs of two to match his and placed her palm over his.
"I must look so strange to you." She spoke thoughtfully.
"It's not a bad strange." He replied.
"Can I look at you Garrus, all of you?" she made her query without reservation. They locked eyes. He could not determine what her expression meant. She did not order him, merely requested. He took a brief moment then stood up and began removing his apparel. She stood too and made a weak effort to help him, giggling whenever he struggled with something like a clasp. He decided he liked those sounds, the vulnerability as a contrast to her usual control made her endearing. As he shrugged off the last of his attire she stepped back to survey him.
Her eyes were relentless and he shivered at their intensity. He had not felt so self-conscious of his body since his first time with a woman. She did not speak, but simply gazed. Her eyes moved downward and she stared particularly long at his inguen area, her brow furrowed in confusion. He could tell she was trying to not stare. He shifted uncomfortably, not knowing if he should explain that his reproductive organs were merely hidden until he was well, ready, but her brow relaxed and she examined the rest of him.
Shepard thought he looked incredible. She liked his cuspate angles, his jutting hips. His muscles visibly rippled in limbs when he stretched or displaced weight from one leg to another. He had a long, slender body. She understood what he meant by having 'reach'. He looked so imposing yet graceful standing there. His leathery skin flexed and his plates moved as he inhaled and exhaled. She fretted only a moment when she noted his groin and she did not see anything; then remembered that some species were retractable. She did not want to make an issue of it; he already seemed embarrassed at her quiet reflection. Guess it's my turn, she considered with a flurry in her stomach. Shepard tried to steel herself, knowing she would lose her nerve if she did not just get it over with. She could not believe how easily Garrus flustered her nerves, as she was generally better composed in her dealings with men.
"I-" he started but shut up as she commenced disrobing. She did it hurriedly and without strife. I guess she wasn't too disappointed, he speculated, and before he had another thought, she was standing in front of him, nude. Her skin was smooth all over, and flushed a light hue, like the blossoms at the citadel. He found it a very agreeable colour. She had nothing to mar her smooth skin except a few distinctions near her chest and midsection. He had seen a lot at his time on the citadel, especially near Chora's Den. He had seen breasts and knew their biological purpose and that women of several species used them to engage men. One perfect circle painted each breast in a deeper shade of pink than the rest of her body, a swollen piece of flesh protruded from each aureole. Below that she had a dimple in the middle of her torso. He had seen all of it before certainly, but looking at it so close and on the commander made the body seem so novel and foreign. Not unattractive but certainly different, he mused.
She stepped toward him gingerly. "It's been a long time since I've been with a man," she confessed, "I'm sorry if I seem a little nervous."
"You're not the only one." It had been a few years since that recon scout he told Shepard about, so he was glad she was out of practice too.
He met her step with his own. He seemed taller than he had before; his statuesque figure towering over her was a little overwhelming. Garrus placed his hands on her arms. Her skin was velvet by contrast of his; he was briefly afraid of tearing her flesh.
Her heart raced as he looked down at her with his piercing eyes."You know, I've never even seen a female turian before out of armour before," she confessed, "I hope you don't find me too unattractive."
He did not find her beautiful, but he thought she was captivating. He knew there was not a comparison between the two races; they were near antipodal in nature. "Shepard," he said consolingly, "you know I wouldn't judge you that way; there is something alluring about you regardless. It's not about what you are, but who." He ran a finger along her clavicle. "The chest helps though," he joked.
She felt relieved and laughed at his remark. "Of course! They capture everyone's attention." She smiled but her tone turned serious: "Garrus, I want you to know I did not ask for you because I wanted some frivolous fling. I care about you, and will after whatever tonight brings."
"That's all you had to say Shep; I've had one-night-stands before, I never intended to treat you like one of them, I have too much respect for you." With that she smiled and ran her hands down his chest lightly, appreciating the variations in texture. He respired heavily, her hands silk on his rough arches and plating. She liked his touch. It felt surreal, firm and controlled. It was not quite as rough as she expected, but rather like tanned leather against her flesh. Her body hummed. She seemed so luscious and exotic to him at that moment, and he felt himself expanding with each sigh that escaped her lips.
She grabbed his hand and tugged as she backed up toward her bed, falling back onto the mattress. He climbed over her body and met her face to face. His keen eyes questioned and hers responding with acquiescence. She reached over to his back, pressing her fingers into his spine and spread her legs, signalling her readiness with a nod and he was inside of her with ease. She sighed and began arching, thrusting, and moaning. She left kisses on his body anywhere she could, branding him, meeting his movement with her own, and writhing and squirming with his slow, deliberate plunges. He licked the salty skin at her neck and rubbed his head against her soft short hair. She pulled at his fringe and forced her nails into his sides. As she met her apex she gasped his name into his mouth; his head reeled with her and he climaxed quietly after her.
No awkward moments followed; she grinned and claimed that all her bones were sound before complimenting his performance openly, saying it was better than anything she could recall. He mocked her memory, alluding to Miranda's dubious attention to Shepard's mind during her rebuild and reminded her that Lawson did want to implant a mind-control chip. But she nudged him playfully and winked at him and he knew that she was genuinely as satisfied as he was. They had little time for pillow talk as Joker silenced their conversation by informing Shepard of their impending arrival to the base. She sighed wistfully and gave Garrus a few words of encouragement about the mission, and said she would meet him with the others in the comm room in about 20 minutes. She looked at him with what he believed to be hope. He felt more confident leaving her room then he did entering not barely over an hour since.
He had vowed to be there when she needed him, but he recognized now how much he wanted this relationship to work. They parted with a new admiration, devotion in their eyes. She vowed that even after the relay was finished they would find time to discuss the details of this night. The taste of her skin lingered in his mouth as she called him out to be the second squad leader, as he helped her into the ship after she blew the place to hell and as they embraced one another safe and alive back on the Normandy. He would be there whenever she needed him. He made a promise and meant to keep it.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have made a few edits that were mentioned to me and hope they improved the story's believability. If you have any constructive commentary please give me a review, or just let me know how much you liked (or disliked!) the story.