Insomnia was a bitch.
She hadn't been able to sleep well since their last outing, but this was an ongoing occurrence for her. She'd been up and down this road many times in her life. Hell, she'd been down in many times during her last life, too. She'd tried everything. An hour on the treadmill only physically exhausted her but didn't slow her brain down a bit. Turning off the fish tank lights didn't help at all, in fact, the dark made things much worse. Quiet music, nada. A scotch before bed, zilch. It had gotten to the point that she was ready to take Chakwas up on her offer for a sedative, though she hated to do that. Things like that always made her feel fuzzy the next day. It was better to be tired than fuzzy as far as she was concerned. She couldn't afford a lapse in judgement.
She lay in bed staring at the stars above her. Every time she felt herself start to drift even a little bit her mind would suddenly change channels and she'd be thinking of something else. Miranda's sister, or Thane's son, Garrus and Sidonis, or Jacob's father; or just the overwhelming pressure she was under. The never ending, relentless pressure which seemed to follow her wherever she went.
Once again, everything depended on her.
She glanced at the clock beside her bed. 2:30am standard time.
A sigh escaped her and she knew it was probably hopless.
The frustration which came along with insomnia had a tendency to make the situation worse, snowballing it out of control. She knew that continuing to lay there would not result in the desired outcome, so instead she decided to get up and try to bore herself to sleep by dealing with some paperwork. Stretching and cracking her neck she sat down at her desk and opened the top drawer to pull out a data pad when something else caught her eye. It was a gift she'd purchased for Joker last time they'd made it to the Citadel. A brand new shiny copy of Fornax.
She pulled the magazine out so she'd remember to bring it to Joker next time she was headed to the CIC. On the cover was an asari and an elcor, in what she would assume was galactic "classy" porn pose. Everything relevant was covered, but the intent was apparent, particularly on the face of the asari. Actually, the elcor didn't really seem to express anything, except, well, just being an elcor. Elcor porn, she thought, unable to stop a slight shudder of distaste coursing through her. She set it aside and did her best to get back to work.
But her mind, much as it had while she was trying to sleep, wandered. She glanced at the cover a couple times before she decided to just get her curiosity sated and over with.
The first few photos she flipped by pretty quickly. Asari, asari, quarian female; tits never really did it for her. Eventually she came to a photo depicting a male drell. The drell in question was a bluish color, a bit darker than Koylat, but his markings reminded her more of Thane. Muscular in all the right places, the coloration and markings on his skin did nothing but accentuate his physique, which would have been considered impressive even without embellishment; and below the waist, she had to admit, was some impressive (and remarkably colorful) equipment. She could fully understand why even cool collected Samara was totally smitten with the assassin.
She turned the page again, fully expecting another drell or an asari, but instead came across an image which caused her to forget how to breathe.
Taking up the entire page, and posed much like Michelangelo's 'David' was a male turian. Dark plates, rather like Nihlus, or that general she helped one time. What was his name? Orca? Okra? She couldn't remember, and it really didn't matter right now as her brain was still busy processing the image before her. The turian in the photo had sharp cream colored clan markings and was gazing at the camera with amber eyes. Broad shoulders led to a wide, muscular chest covered with dark plates, tapering down to a slender waist which was slightly paler in color than the rest of him. She felt herself growing warm as her eyes continued to slide down the page. The slim waist led to angular hips which led to long, powerful looking legs. She'd always appreciated turian legs, but she'd never really seen them exposed like this and was more than a little impressed with the way the muscles roped themselves around his skeleton in a way which spoke of speed and strength. There really was something deliciously predatory about the turian physique. Slender, angular, deadly looking; what wasn't to like?
And in the center, emerged from behind plates, was a dusky purplish-blue cock the likes of which she'd never seen. It curved forward towards his waist, tapering at the tip, ridges and bumps encircling the shaft, glistening. It actually glistened. She wasn't certain if turian males self-lubricated or if it had been "polished" so to speak for the spread, and she didn't really give a damn. The shape of it, the way it was perfectly curved, she knew exactly where it would hit inside; which led to other thoughts.
She felt herself grow warm in response, warm and wet, actually. She'd not even considered sex with a member of her own species since her resurrection. Actually, prior to her death it had been quite some time for her, not that there hadn't offers of course, just none she was interested in.
She flipped through the magazine, looking for more turians to see if they could compare to the first. She found another. "Hellooo gorgeous," the words came out of their own accord. This one was a bit bulkier than the first, thicker and more muscular. His plates were pale, his eyes were green, his cock was more blue than purple. Wrapped around it was his three taloned hand, gripping firmly, head thrown back in obvious pleasure.
Shepard rubbed her thighs together.
It was the next page which fully did her in. A female human with an obviously synthetic chest was bent over as a male turian entered her from behind, the back of her neck held snugly between his jaws. Shepard's own jaw dropped as the temperature in her cabin seemed to soar. She swallowed hard a few times. A few more images of the couple on the next page, one with the woman's legs wrapped around the turian's neck, his long tongue buried in her, and another with her legs wrapped about his waist, feet braced against his spurs as he fucked her up against a wall.
Shepard felt herself flush, felt her nipples tighten, felt heat and want and need settle in her core. Never in her life has she reacted so strongly to an image but this was just so fucking hot. She slipped her hand under the shorts she slept in, under her panties, and found herself soaked. Just the slightest touch had her practically jumping from the chair from sensitivity. Her own head fell back in pleasure as she touched herself, imagining the feel of a three fingered hand on her flesh, plates against her skin, and sharp predatory teeth at her throat. Within two minutes time she was all but groaning out loud as she came hard around her fingers.
With a final, shuddering breath, she returned to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.
xXxXx
She managed to sleep for four hours. That was the longest she'd slept for days and she felt much more rested than she had in some time. Zombie Cyborg Shepard had a bit more difficulty getting shut eye than Shepard V1.0 did and she'd spent most of her time since her resurrection in a state of sleep deprivation. It was good to be a bit more clear headed for a change. After showering and dressing she grabbed the copy of Fornax to bring up to Joker. Part of her loathed the idea of parting with it. But she could always pick up another, and, she admitted herself, she probably would eventually do just that. She got into the elevator and pressed the button, opening the magazine to glance through idly as it slowly made its way up to the CIC.
Fortunately she closed the magazine before the elevator doors opened; unfortunately she wasn't fully focused on where she was going and ran head first into Garrus. The Fornax fell to the floor and she tripped over one of his feet, nearly falling down face first. His hands wrapped around her arms to steady her.
She'd never noticed how large his hands were before, or how warm they were even through the gloves he never took off. Come to think of it she'd never really noticed how pleasant he smelled, either. She knew his scent, weapon oil and ozone and something faintly metallic, but she'd never really considered how pleasing she found it. No, she said to her thoughts, you are not going there. But despite her better judgement they went there anyway.
"Garrus, what are you doing up here?" She could have swear her voice was three octaves higher than normal and she did her best not to look at the magazine, hoping he wouldn't notice it, knowing he would because he never missed anything. The bastard.
"Shepard," he nodded at her, "Just delivering some mods to Jacob."
He looked down at the magazine where it sat on the floor and her eyes followed his path. Shit, it was open. And of course it hadn't opened to something harmlessly asari or quarian or even drell. Of course it had decided that it would open up to one of the very pages she had spent some personal time with the evening before.
He raised an eyebrow plate at her and she felt her face grow decidedly warm, which he would also pick up on because of that blasted visor of his. She could only hope he would mistake her blush for something (anything!) other than guilt and shame over what were truly inappropriate thoughts about her best friend
And there she was, standing near the galaxy map with Garrus, who suddenly affected her in ways he never had before, with the turian version of a Greek God's cock looking back at them. Okay, it wasn't literally looking back, but as far as she was concerned it might as well have been. Looking back and making all kinds of filthy comments inside her head. She grabbed the magazine off the floor before her hallucination had the thing winking up at her, closing it the moment it was inside her hands and thinking to herself, 'Be cool, Shepard, you can do this.'
She stood up and grinned at him, pretending the situation was amusing rather than horrifyingly embarrassing and said in a voice which was far to chipper and nothing at all like her own, "Just delivering some reading material to Joker."
He grunted, "Reading material, huh?"
"He claims he reads it for the articles." She joked, even managing to force a strangled laugh, which sounded very little like a real laugh once it finally passed through her uncooperative vocal chords.
"Uh huh." He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, ah, Shepard, I need to get back down to the battery."
She nodded and cleared her own throat, "Calibrations?" she asked, relieved that she'd finally managed to gain some control over her voice.
"Yeah," he said, glancing at her sideways, "ah...Calibrations. I'll... be there if you need me Shepard."
When the elevator doors closed behind him Shepard let out a breath.
Well, that was a horribly awkward start to the day.
