Disclaimer: Mass Effect doesn't belong to me, nor do I intend to profit from this work of fiction.
Kaidan sat in the mess drinking bitter, black coffee. It was late; very, very late, and, as a result, he was the only person around. He'd had a run in with Shepard's second-in-command, Miranda Lawson. The woman was a pain in the ass, and had triggered a severe migraine, putting him out of commission for several hours. He could already see why the turian, Garrus, was the person she went to with command decisions.
The worst was past now, and he wasn't able to sleep. The coffee was making him jittery. Or maybe it was just the thought of the situation in which he found himself.
He wasn't used to the military discipline Shepard maintained on her ship. Sure, it was pretty relaxed, but he didn't particularly care to answer to anyone. Especially not since the incident on Jump Zero, even if the person he answered to was a smoking hot, sexy marine. She may be ex-Alliance, but her military bearing did strange things to him.
He looked up in surprise as the object of his thoughts turned the corner. She stopped short and blinked at the sight of him before she moved toward the coffee pot. He watched her avidly as she poured herself a mug, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic.
She felt his gaze traveling over her backside, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She frowned as she felt the hot ball of lust burning in her belly. She'd been avoiding him in the last few days since he'd joined the crew for this very reason.
Every time she clapped eyes on him, her pulse would spike, as a result, she'd decided it was prudent to avoid him all together. Her eyes widened in alarm as he stood, and languidly walked over with that lazy, long-legged swagger of his.
"Can't sleep, either?" he drawled, the huskiness of his voice sending warm shivers down her spine. He leaned a hip against the counter, watching her, that same predatory gleam in his eyes he'd had the other day.
Her mouth turned to sawdust when he reached out and ran his hot palm over her bare skin, from her wrist to her elbow. "No," she replied, leaving it up to interpretation if she was answering his question or protesting his touch.
She wasn't protesting, he decided. "Well, cher, maybe I could help with that," he said silkily, stepping closer to her, planting a firm thigh between her legs, feeling her heat coming off her in waves.
She brought her mug to her lips, took a long sip. "I don't see how," she replied flatly, desperately ignoring the feel of him entrenched between her thighs. She was failing spectacularly.
"You wound me," he murmured, clutching his chest dramatically as he leaned in to her, taking her mug from her limp fingers, setting it aside. His lips were millimeters away from her own, his breath hot against her skin. "One night with me, you'll be so exhausted, you'll sleep for days. When I let you sleep, that is."
"You don't allow me to do anything," she snapped at him, temper rising in her blue eyes. "I make my own decisions," she shoved at the hard wall of his chest.
He didn't budge, he just smirked at her, and with a groan, captured her lips. The kiss wild and ferocious, bordering on frenzied. Their tongues tangled, their lips crushed together with bruising force. He heard her moan into his mouth as his hand brushed up to cup her breast, massaging firmly, his hips pinning her against the countertop behind her, his blatant arousal trapped against her belly.
He heard her panting as he tore his lips from hers, trailing hot kisses against her throat, his tongue roughly swirling against her skin. Her hips rubbed against his of their own accord, a hot moan escaping her lips.
She shoved him back, pushing him back a step. They stared at each other, dark energy arcing between them. She prowled around him, astounded at her response to him. She was a soldier, a professional; she didn't give into her base urges as she had now done twice with him.
"Who are you?" she asked harshly, her breathing labored.
His smile was smug. "I'm just a biotic from Vancouver that ran away from home when I was seventeen." He sauntered towards her, careful not to touch her even as he crowded her. "I got my first kill on Jump Zero. I killed my turian instructor with a biotic kick to the face.
"I joined Eclipse as a merc when I was nineteen. I learned a lot about my biotic limitations and improved my tech skills. I can break into or hack just about anything. Almost died a couple times, learned how to stay alive. I left Eclipse about five years ago, went freelance. I've been doing very well for myself." He continued to circle her, his palms itching to touch her skin.
"I know all that, it's in your dossier," she responded, watching him warily. She was resisting the urge to throw herself bodily at him and tear off his clothes, but barely.
"You want me," his husky voice rumbled in his chest, and her pulse skyrocketed.
"No," she said breathlessly.
"You don't want to want me, but you do," he reached out and grasped her belt, tugged her close. "I want you," he rasped into her ear. He felt her shudder against him, felt his own heart pounding in his chest. "It's strange," he murmured, holding her gaze as her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. "I want nothing more than to tumble you into bed, Shepard. But I really want to take my time with you."
She sucked in a deep breath, "We need to be professional, whatever this is between us."
He chuckled, "Whatever you say, Shepard." He reluctantly released her, and took a step back, "You know where to find me, when you change your mind."
