Disclaimer and Note: I don't own the Mass Effect franchise. Too bad. Also, this story features a slightly more Renegade Garrus. It's just my opinion that you have a lot of influence on Garrus' life, and if you're a renegade then he is going to emulate that in future games.

On a side note, this story is set in my Satana-verse, where Satana Shepard survives my other fic Running as Fast as I Can. If that sounds confusing, then go read RaFaIC (the chapters are fairly short) and vote on who you want to have come out alive.

Prompt 004: Insides

Inside My Mind

The first time Satana Shepard killed a person was actually on Mindoir. Her sisters were trying to drag each other to safety during the Batarian raid, and in the end, it was either shoot the Batarian or let it kill her sisters. She remembered being physically sick right afterward, after they'd made it to the relative safety of the Alliance outpost, but the night was just beginning. In the case of shoot or be shot, Satana Shepard will always shoot first.

Not that it mattered. Both of her sisters, and even her brother, probably died that night anyway, trying to keep her safe.

But Shepard never thought about that. It was too much to worry about. Never look back; that was her rule. So many years later, when she chose to leave Ashley to die on Virmire, she didn't feel anything. She had to make a choice, and she chose to keep Kaidan alive. It was nothing personal; Kaidan was guarding the bomb, and she needed to make sure the bomb went off correctly. Going back to save Kaidan was her way of securing the destruction of Saren's base on Virmire.

Many people had seen that as callous. Let them. Statistics and tactics spoke louder than dead people.

And really, what did they have to complain about? She'd saved the Citadel from Saren, hadn't she? She doubted anyone else could do it as fast as she had. And now she was on her own, away from the Alliance and Admiral Anderson, being supported by Cerberus and a few of her alien friends in hopes of saving the galaxy from something the rest of the galaxy didn't even think existed.

Shepard brushed her black-as-night hair behind her shoulder and she continued to read her current datapad. She'd been planning recently on how to take out the Blue Suns; she'd let Zaeed kill their leader a few weeks ago, but news traveled fast and a new leader had taken the reigns. Shepard was going to have to do something drastic to decimate the Blue Suns forces.

She was deciding whether or not to try and turn the Blood Pack and Eclipse bands against the Blue Suns or just give up and take them out herself when the elevator opened and Garrus burst into the mess hall. He glanced around the room and locked eyes with her. His piercing gaze held hers for all of three seconds before he made a move, but Satana could still tell something was wrong.

This instantly set Shepard on guard. Out of all the people she'd ever met, Garrus was her favorite (though good luck getting her to admit it). Saving his ass on Omega had been a sort of hellish fun that she'd forgotten she could have, and since then they'd been nearly inseparable. They seemed to be able to read each other like books.

She really, really liked Garrus. And she'd never tell a soul.

"Shepard. We need to talk."

Without hesitation, Shepard locked the datapad and set it on the table. She followed Garrus into the hidey hole he'd made out of the forward battery and suppressed an excited shudder and he closed the doors behind them. He gave her that intense stare again. She set her glowing green eyes back to his and refused to look away first.

"Shepard, I've got something." He shuffled around, scratching at his scar on the side of his face. It made Shepard's own scars twinge. "I may need your help."

She knew instantly what he was talking about. "It's yours. You found Sidonis?"

Garrus nodded thoughtfully. "There's a specialist on the Citadel; name's Fade. He's an expert at helping people disappear. Sidonis was seen with him."

Satana crossed her arms. "Shouldn't be too hard to find. Officer Bailey will help us out." He'd better, anyway. "Out of curiosity, what are you planning to do when you find him?"

Garrus' glare turned deadly. Shepard nodded. "Understood. Where do we find Fade?"

For once, her turian friend's expression seemed to ease. "I've arranged a meeting in a warehouse near the Neon Markets, down on Zakera Ward." As Shepard nodded thoughtfully and began planning out attack plans in her mind, Garrus continued. "I want to thank you, Shepard. I appreciate you taking the time to help me. I actually thought you'd be against this."

Satana had no reply. She looked up at her old friend (good gods, he was a whole krogan head taller than she was!) and tried to find the right words.

"It's important to you." She tried, glancing away for once and instead focusing on the wall. "I remember going out and finding the bastards responsible for Mindoir once I got old enough and capable enough." I also remember Anderson hadn't been too impressed with that, either. "And besides, I… I want you to be okay again."

Garrus furrowed his brow. Again, Shepard read his face within seconds. He'd read something in her words that he'd never seen before. She hadn't been subtle enough. Damn it. Time to go.

"Well, I'm sure you have some calibrations to get on with. We'll head to the Citadel as soon as we can." Shepard opened the battery door and made a less-than-graceful retreat under the watchful, slightly confused gaze of the turian she could always read, but never quite manage to say "no" to.

XXXXX

The second time Satana Shepard ever killed someone was during the three years she spent with Admiral (then Lieutenant-Commander) Anderson. He'd been assigned to be her guardian after the slaver attack on Mindoir, since he'd been closely involved in her rescue (and was, consequently, the only one she would willingly talk to) and they needed to keep her around for posterity's sake. If they could get one of the only survivors from that planet well again, then the Alliance could boost their relations with the outer colonies using Satana as their witness.

After a rather rocky start, they'd both been shipped to Grissom Academy; Anderson to try and locate an arms smuggler and Satana to infiltrate as a student. Her part was two-fold: to actually learn something useful to do with her biotics and to see what the students knew about the arms conspiracy.

In the end, the bad guys were the ones with the guns. Anderson was defenseless and Satana was on the floor dazed from a blow to the head. The bad guys made the mistake of leaving Anderson's gun next to the dazed, terrified little girl, and she'd been angry enough to see through the black haze around her eyes. She picked up the gun, aimed like Anderson had taught her, and fired. She'd been aiming for the man's chest, but she struck him clean through the head. She remembered Anderson's look of pride mixed in with grim admiration as he picked her up and carried her into the medbay.

That was the look she was giving Garrus now, she could feel it; but for an entirely different reason.

She and her turian associate had left the Normandy alone that morning. Shepard thought it would be easier to get the job done with just the two of them. They'd mugged the information about Fade out of the volus and made their way to Harkin's factory to get the information about Sidonis from him.

Garrus had been a bit on edge since they'd left this morning. His mind had been on Sidonis and Sidonis only. Shepard would never, ever, ever admit it, but she was starting to feel neglected. Shepard was used to people focusing on her, whether it was for good reasons or bad didn't really bother her. More importantly, she was used to Garrus' attention to her. Today, though, every time he looked at her, she could see plainly that he was thinking about revenge. Today she was only a tool to help him achieve his goal.

She hated being someone's tool.

Yet, as Garrus shot Harkin in the leg and the two of them left, she didn't say anything about her dissatisfaction. If he were anyone else she'd be the first one to gripe and show her displeasure. But she could see the cold anger in his eyes and knew better than to break his concentration.

"That went well." Shepard remarked lazily on their way back through the factory.

"Yeah, Harkin's a lot like I remember him. Shooting him in the leg was a mercy, in my opinion. I should have shot him in the head for helping Sidonis."

Ugh. Sidonis again. Shepard felt her jealousy flare up again. "I remember Harkin well enough."

Garrus turned his eye on her quizzically. "You've met him?"

Happy to have his attention, Shepard shrugged and looked nonchalant. "Yeah. Kaidan and Ashley and I went to him when we were looking for you on the Citadel, before we met." She gave a wistful sigh, ignoring the way he raked his eyes over her. It was more of a curiosity-glance than anything. "Harkin propositioned me."

Silence. Then, "He what?"

Satana peered over at Garrus quickly, gauging his reaction. Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice? Or anger at the blow to her dignity? She had a feeling it was both.

How could she not jump at the opportunity to stump him?

"Multiple times. Then called me a bitch, and asked again." She scrunched her nose, and pretended like she couldn't see the fire in his eyes. She'd had to deal with his inattention all day; he could deal with a few minutes. "Then I told him I'd rather drink acid after chewing on a razor. Heh. He called it kinky and said if I was into that stuff he knew some guys who were open-minded like him."

Okay, so maybe the last part hadn't happened like that. But she wanted to get a reaction out of him.

Then Satana felt herself being lifted off the ground. Her back slammed into the nearest wall and she grunted, more surprised than anything. She couldn't see anything through the black forest of hair that had been thrown out of place, and she shook it out of her way impatiently. She glared at Garrus menacingly and grasped the talons he kept at her chest, pressing her into the wall.

"He. Did. What?" Garrus repeated, inching closer to Satana. She could feel his breath on her face; she could practically feel his mandibles twitching.

Satana swallowed nervously. Garrus' expression was one she'd never seen before. It spoke volumes to her about things she'd forced herself to never consider. He glared at her intensely, pushing more pressure onto her. Shepard felt as if she was going to melt into the wall if he pressed any harder.

Satana pushed her new and unfollowable thoughts aside. Right now she should be frustrated that Garrus had practically assaulted her in the middle of a mission. She should knock him back and berate him for striking a commanding officer. She should tell him to keep his talons to himself and go away.

Yet… a warm flush started in the pit of her stomach and steadily grew as the look on her turian's face intensified. She decided to let him off.

"He didn't touch me." She admitted quietly. "He just kept saying derogatory things until I threatened to loosen his teeth."

Garrus did a turian version of a snort and loosened his grip on Shepard. She refused to feel disappointed. "Humph. You should have. The accusation is maddening enough. I should have shot him in the head. Just not the one that holds his brain."

And there, she felt that expression at that point. Shepard felt the grin on her lips before she was aware that his words had an effect on her. It was not often her face formed any sort of smile, unless it was a smirk after she'd beaten someone soundly in a fight. She couldn't stop it from spreading, however, and Garrus picked up on it immediately.

The moment they locked eyes Satana was aware that he'd read her face. His responding gaze gave her goosebumps. His talons picked aimlessly at her shoulder as they continued to stare at each other until finally his hand trailed down her arm and back toward his own body.

"Come on," Garrus finally spoke, all trace of his recent outburst gone. "We'd better get to that meeting. Sidonis might get spooked and run off on his own."

That was all right with Shepard. After all, she'd learned a valuable lesson today: She can make Garrus just as crazy-jealous as she sometimes felt. It was something she wanted to keep in mind.

Suddenly the day wasn't so bad.

XXXXX

The third (and fourth, fifth, sixth, on to the twentieth) time Satana Shepard killed someone was right before she joined the Alliance. She'd just turned eighteen and told Anderson she wanted to explore the galaxy a bit before she signed on to her brand-new career.

Anderson had agreed to it. Not that she needed his consent, but it was nice to have. Their relationship to each other was complicated at best: Shepard was too world-smart to think of anyone as a "parent", per se, but "guardian" sounded too impersonal to her mind. He was her one authority figure; her only boss. But a friend, too.

On the nights when her dreams kept her from sleeping, he would stay up with her and play cards, and eventually teach her to fight. When she started getting sick, he took off from work to make sure she got better.

At any rate, Anderson was her boss-friend, and she'd been glad to get his agreement to let her go off on her own.

With some extra cash on her and the promise to check in with him every few nights, Satana set off on her exploration of the galaxy.

Her first stop was Mindoir, to gain information about the attack three years before. Her second stop was the batarians stronghold where the raider who'd killed her family resided.

Killing the batarians wasn't hard; she'd been instructed in fighting styles long enough to be able to hold her own in a fight. Not only that, her biotic abilities had advanced during the years to the point where she could cause some real damage. Once she'd taken out the band of raiders (not too easy a feat; she had a few injuries of her own to boast of afterward), she set about trying to find evidence of her sister's existence, Josephine Shepard.

Her other sister and brother's bodies had been found before she'd woken up after the raid. Satana had lain next to Kalisee Shepard's corpse for a long time, being as still as possible and using her sister's body as a shield from the outside world. Her brother Jonathan was found on the other side of the settlement, surrounded by varren corpses with a bullet through his chest, his sister Jo's necklace clutched in his hands.

But they'd never found Jo's body. There'd never been a scrap of evidence that she was dead. Satana did not like to hold onto useless hope, but for three years she was never able to shake the feeling that her sister had to be alive, and she was going to find her.

As it turned out, these batarians raiders kept a log of everything they ever did with their slaves. All Satana had to do was look up the date three years ago and look for a description of her sister: blonde hair, blue eyes, mid teens.

When Satana found the right receipt she couldn't help a sob. Her sister had some biotic abilities; she'd been teaching herself how to use them (with the help of some officers from the Alliance base) when the raiders attacked. The datapad she found on her sister said she'd been sold to the Teltin Facility on the planet Pragia.

Immediately after the receipt was a bookmarked note, marked urgent, dated only a few scant months after her sister's sale. It warned the batarians against sending anymore slaves to the facility. The subjects had escaped and started destroying everything in sight. Their "Subject Zero" had escaped and killed everyone, and almost everyone at the facility had died that night. The organization known as "Cerberus" was sending the note as a courteous warning.

So that was it. Her last family member, her sister, one of her best friends from her childhood, was probably dead. Was most likely dead. Was almost definitely dead.

At least she'd killed the bastards that had done it to her. That thought sustained her and made her feel better as she returned to Anderson within the next two weeks (ignoring his questions about the hole in her shoulder and her swollen nose) and signed her contract with the Alliance.

This was why Satana was ready to follow through with Garrus' plan of revenge. He was going through the exact thing she had, save a few minor differences. She would help him in any way she could.

In this case, helping him involved drawing Sidonis out into public and letting Garrus shoot him in the head.

It was simple enough. Garrus told her which one was Sidonis and she sauntered over to him, her most nonchalant look on her face. Sidonis stood before her, a nervous look on his face. He was dressed in smart clothes; dark blue with yellow stripes toward the neck. The cuffs of his clothes ended in red bracers, which he pulled at incessantly as if he were constantly itching. He scratched at his neck, showing that he wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself, and stared expectantly at Shepard.

Shepard felt her hackles rise, just as they always did when she was faced with a coward who couldn't own up to his actions. Three things were clear to her at this point: Sidonis had indeed betrayed Garrus and his other teammates, he had fled to the Citadel in the hopes of becoming lost in the crowd of jobless refugees, and he had guilt that was eating away at him.

If he wasn't able to live with the consequences of his actions, then he didn't deserve to live. That was how the galaxy worked. You either own up or you die.

Sidonis spoke, pulling Satana out of her reverie. "Let's just get this over with."

Shepard felt a pulsing at the back of her head. She had an eerie feeling that Garrus was staring intently at her.

"You're in my shot." She heard in her ear. "Move to the side."

Gladly.

"This won't take long at all." Shepard replied, crossing her arms and stepping to the side. "This is just a courtesy call. We need to consider new locations for you."

Sidonis frowned. "Wait. Are you one of Harkin's men? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Would I know who you are if I wasn't?" Shepard snapped. "You going to worry about my credentials or about getting out of here?"

"I was told Harkin was one of the best. This better not happen again." Sidonis clutched his forehead and sighed, his tone coming out more of a whine to Shepard than an admonition.

Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, it won't. We take good care of our people."

"Yeah, well—"

Shepard didn't hear the shot, but she saw Sidonis jerk violently to the side, and saw a bullet leave the other side of his head. The turian hit the ground lifelessly. Satana had enough grace to look completely surprised and even make shocked noises like the surrounding population.

She met Garrus back at his sniper position with the shuttle. As she came out of the driver's seat, Garrus came upon her.

"That was easy enough."

Satana had to agree. "Clean and simple. Good work." Then she gave a small smirk. "Being the bait is fun, sometimes."

"Thanks for helping me, Shepard." Garrus stared at her with that piercing gaze again. He blinked and reached a talon up to her face.

Satana didn't move. She knew how sharp turian talons could get and she didn't want to add to the scars already on her face. Garrus placed a talon delicately on her face and wiped across her cheek.

"You had traitor blood on you." He explained. "I'm sorry; I tried to hit him so you wouldn't dirty your clothes."

Shepard shrugged. "No worries. I'll just take a shower when we get back to the Normandy." And, in spite of her head telling her to not do that, she cocked an eyebrow at him and drew her eyes up his body, trying to convey exactly what she couldn't say to him.

And damn it if he didn't read her perfectly. Garrus stood stock-still for a few seconds, sizing her up, gauging her reactions. He crossed his arms and shifted all his weight onto one leg. He did his own impression of "cocking an eyebrow" and a wolfish grin flashed across his face.

"Right," Was all he said.

It was enough for Shepard to get the message. She stepped back into the shuttle and buckled up.

XXXXX

"No, Demon. I can't move anymore."

That's right; her sister always called her Demon. It used to make her so angry, but now all she felt was fear.

"You have to move, Kallie. They're going to find us here." She shoved violently at her sister's good arm. Kallie still winced.

Something exploded in the distance. One of those mutant dogs—varren, the Alliance man had called them—was howling way far away. The building on fire next to them creaked ominously.

"You go, sister." Kallie insisted, reaching for their last thermal clip. She inserted it clumsily into their ratty, almost nonfunctional pistol. "Find a place to hide and stay there. I'll try to distract them so you can get away."

"Shut up, you idiot." She snarled, smacking Kallie's bad arm this time. She wrenched her sister up and began dragging her along. "We have to find Jo. And Johnny."

"I don't think—"

One of the temporary buildings next to them exploded. Kallie managed to cover her up when the blast came, and when they were knocked back Kallie took most of the damage.

As she pushed Kallie off of her and attempted to stand, a section of wall came down upon them. Kallie gave a small cry and tried weakly to dislodge herself.

She couldn't feel her face. She couldn't see. The wall that was crushing them covered them up completely. Probably the only reason they were both still alive was because one end had caught on something else, making the wall slant heavily. Their legs were trapped under the wrong half.

In the pitch dark, she checked herself over mentally. She was smarting from the sudden weight, yes. The burns she'd gathered were screaming at her, and her recently-dislocated shoulder added to the noise. She was pretty sure the bullet hole she'd cauterized on her own had been ripped open and was now bleeding again. She could see the smoke along the outside of the wall that trapped them, but she thought it might take a while for the smoke inhalation to suffocate them; they were close to the ground. Still, since the wall partition was settled heavily onto her abdomen, she didn't think she was going to be able to keep breathing for long.

So she'd either bleed out or suffocate soon. How cheerful.

"Satana? You all right?"

"I'm alive."

Kallie's breathing became heavy. "Good."

Kallie's hand-me-down omnitool glowed to life, and suddenly their little tomb was illuminated in a bright orange. Kallie lay on her back, half of her face covered in her dark red hair, the other half a bright red from the blast. Blood poured from her temple, and Satana could feel her own head bleeding as she watched her sister.

Satana reached out a hand to her sister. She felt along Kallie's arm and shoulder. Something was bleeding freely again. And she couldn't move to patch it up.

She didn't know what else was wrong with her sister. She had to get them loose and try to fix it. She had to—

Kallie shifted uncomfortably, and then whined as if something hurt her. "Satana—"

"We're going to be fine." She reassured her sister. She wouldn't admit that she was reassuring herself, too. "We'll be fine. That man from the Alliance will save us. You said so."

Kallie coughed. The omnitool dimmed slightly. "Yes, I did."

"So let's just stay still." She advised. "Don't move. Help will come. It will."

Kallie nodded. "It will."

They stayed silent, holding hands, as her sister's omnitool grew dimmer and dimmer, until it finally flickered out.

Satana jerked her eyes open and sat up in bed. She took large breaths until she was satisfied that she couldn't actually smell smoke or blood. Then she got up and jumped into the shower to rid herself of the sweat she'd built up during the night.

It had been a long time since she'd dreamed of that night. She worked hard to keep herself from remembering that terrible night; that night of so many firsts.

The first night she was attacked by mutant dogs, the first night she killed someone, the first night she was completely by herself while in very real danger—

The first time she'd ever been forced to watch helplessly as someone she loved died two feet away from her.

But there were other things to think about, surely. Like… food! Gods, Satana hadn't eaten in a long time. Her stomach growled at her as some sort of reminder. She threw her uniform on and barely remembered to put on her shoes before jumping into the elevator and instructing it to take her to the mess hall.

Making food was certainly not one of Shepard's specialties. She could never cook to save her life. Still, she was hungry, and she was sure if she threw a few things together something edible would come out. Or maybe Gardener left some food out? As she rummaged through the food storage, she found a note with her name on it. She picked it up, frowning, and read it.

"Commander Shepard,

I know you're hungry at night, but you have this terrible habit of eating whatever it is I plan on cooking the next day. So, I've set aside a bunch of food for you to eat at night that won't in any way affect the meal plan for the next day.

Sergeant Gardener."

Shepard let out a chuckle and rummaged through "her" food. Gardener had chosen well, it seemed. She pulled out some marshmallows and tossed them onto the cooking table. Then she hopped up onto the table herself and dug into her midnight snack.

She scratched lightly at the scars on her cheek as she chewed thoughtfully on a marshmallow. Her nail caught on one of her newer scars and pulled mightily, stinging her. She flinched back and glared at the offending nail. She decided to punish her nail by eating another marshmallow. She began to feel better as she ate another one and poured herself a glass of water.

She realized she was staring at the next marshmallow and not eating it. She tore it in half slowly and stared at the two halves.

"I'm not sure what that white puffy ball did anything to deserve that fate."

Satana nearly leapt out of her skin. Her hand instinctively went to her gun holster—only to realize that she didn't have it on her. She'd never left her room without her gun before.

Not that she needed it. Garrus stared back at her expectantly from across the room.

Satana took a huge breath and popped it into her mouth. "It's a marshmallow." She chewed it slowly. "And it had the bad luck to find me hungry."

Garrus slid up to Shepard and leaned on the table next to her. "The poor thing had terrible timing."

Satana ate another one, then put the bag up and reached for some water. "What are you doing up this late?"

The turian shrugged. "Oh, I was working on this new cannon you've had installed. Integrating it is harder than I thought it would be."

"Need some help? I can get Tali up if you want."

"No! No, I don't need that." Satana peered suspiciously at Garrus. "I actually came in here because I heard you drooling over the food. I wanted to thank you for your help with Sidonis. It took a lot of time out of our way to do that, and I know you value your time."

"It wasn't a problem." Shepard maintained. "Happy to help. I need you on my side."

"I'm always on your side, Shepard." Garrus trained his eye on her and opened his mouth like he wanted to add something, but stopped himself. "You… you sometimes look like you could use the help yourself. Like tonight, you look like you've been having a rough time. Are you all right?"

"I'm always all right."

Garrus turned to face Shepard, and stepped right in front of her. Even set up on the table, Shepard barely reached the top of his head. Satana locked eyes with him, refusing to be the one to look away first.

"Sure. Now tell me the truth." Garrus narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Really, nothing's wrong. I'm just stressed. When I get stressed I don't sleep well. And when I don't sleep well I get hungry."

"I see." Garrus placed a hand on Shepard's knee and looked up at her. "You know, turians have their own ways of relieving stress. Some are slightly different from the way the Alliance handles things."

Satana felt her pulse jump. "Oh? And how's that?"

"My favorite way to handle stress is full-on sparring." Shepard frowned and huffed at him. Garrus continued like he hadn't heard. "It's supervised, of course. No one's going to risk an injury that interferes with a mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably."

"Anderson and I used to spar when I was younger." Satana stated. "Before I'd joined the Alliance, though. It's been a long time."

Garrus chuckled. "I remember this one time; we were preparing to hit a batarian pirate squad. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats."

"I understand." Satana interrupted. "Batarians do that to me, too."

"It was nerves, mostly." Garrus continued, studying Shepard intently. "She suggested we settle it in the ring."

Shepard's eye twitched before she could stop it. She? Who was this turian? What was her relationship with Garrus? Did he still keep in touch with her? What did she have that Shepard didn't?

Garrus rolled right over her thoughts, as if he didn't realize she was having a private jealous rage. From the gleaming smirk he was giving her, however, he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

"She and I were the top hand-to-hand specialists on the ship: I had reach, but she had flexibility." Bitch. "It was brutal. After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room."

Her curiosity got the better of her. "And what did you and that other turian end up doing?"

His smirk turned into a wicked grin. "We, uh, ended up holding our own tiebreaker in her quarters. I had reach, but she had flexibility."

Shepard grit her teeth together. She could feel Garrus' talons lazily pulling up and down her leg, giving her chills. The turian standing in front of her locked eyes and his grip on her leg tightened.

She and Garrus always seemed to know what the other was thinking. And she wasn't going to get any better signal than that.

"I can be pretty flexible too, you know."

She hardly finished her sentence before Garrus jerked her forward and caught her lips in a kiss.

Satana responded quickly. She'd been waiting for this for years, it seemed, and now that it was finally happening she wasn't going to let it slip away. She wrapped her arms around Garrus' neck and held on as he pulled her off of the tabletop. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lost all sense of where she was. She was aware that Garrus was moving, but couldn't think of where. She couldn't think of anything, actually. She heard the sounds of a door opening and closing and found herself pressed up against a wall before she realized he'd dragged her back into the forward battery.

She let out a breathless laugh. "Never knew you had a weakness for women with scars, Garrus."

He kissed her again. "Some men think scars are attractive." He buried his face in the crook of her neck. Shepard could feel his breath on her skin; she could feel his mandibles twitching. It made her shiver.

"I want you, Shepard." Garrus continued. Then he pulled back and looked over her disheveled countenance. He couldn't help but smile. "But I don't want either of us getting hurt because we rushed in and didn't do our research. If we can find a way to make this work…."

"Yes." Shepard replied. "We should… do our homework on this." She pulled him back for another kiss.

By the time Garrus and Shepard let go of each other neither one could breathe particularly well.

"Shepard, we should—"

"My name is Satana, Garrus." Satana replied. At Garrus' confused look she continued. "Only two other people in the galaxy have been given permission to use my given name. Don't abuse the privilege."

"I'll do what I please with my privilege, Satana." Gods, the way he said her name made her shiver again. She was on the verge of making another grab for him when he dislodged himself from her and stepped back.

"You need sleep." He stated. "And we can't do anything tonight."

He was right, of course. "All right. Not tonight. We need to do research first."

Garrus and Satana circled round each other as she headed for the door. She had a very strong feeling that if she touched him again, they were going to do something possibly dangerous. She reached for the door and slipped through.

"Good night, Garrus." She closed the door behind her and made a bolt for the elevator.

Well, that had certainly been unexpected. How in the world did he think she was going to get to sleep after that? On the bright side, at least she wasn't hungry anymore.

Instead she was…happy. That was a word she hadn't used for herself in a long time. In her mind, it's always been about moving forward. Get the next job done. Survive longer. Use people before they use you. And now, she didn't feel as cynical as she usually did.

She wouldn't be able to act on her newfound emotions at the moment. She didn't want to get hurt, nor did she want to hurt him. They would have to do some research before anything happened. Satana would talk to Mordin later and get his advice. But for tonight, they had to stay apart.

Tomorrow, though….

XXXXX

Okay, so I didn't mean for this to turn into this long a one-shot. It's all right for my re-debut fic, though, so I'm all right with that. :) Let me have your criticisms and such! I've been on a two-year break, so I'm kind of rusty.

Amme Moto