AN: This chapter assumes that Shepard is pursuing a relationship with Garrus. No mushy stuff, but had to raise up the rating because of... other things in the chapter. I hope it isn't disturbing in any way to anybody! No crazy acts, just crazy talks.
Thanks for reading everybody! :) A special thanks to all that are kind enough to leave reviews. Means the world to me.
Mordin Solus
Shepard decided to pour herself her third glass of alcohol. So far she'd downed the green and red colored concoctions, with satisfying results. She'd looked out the observation window and had still managed to see every star speck distinctly. She'd also turned around to see Kasumi still fast asleep on her couch. It felt mildly strange for Shepard to sit alone drinking in the same room that one of her crew was sleeping in. She'd offered to join in of course, but Shepard had declined. She had strict apprehensions about having her crew see her drunk. She trusted Kasumi, but didn't trust herself. Back in her bootcamp days, Shepard had always been known as the somewhat loose one. 'Shepard's at it again guys. Come and see!', one of the guys in her unit would holler. And before she knew it a small crowd of people would have assembled to watch her make a complete idiot out of herself after having taken in just a couple of glasses. Commander Shepard would not repeat the same mistake.
Shepard had decided to stop at two glasses. From past experience, she'd determined her sanity limit to be at around two to three glasses only. But looking at the exotic green and red colored liquids in front her her, Shepard could hardly resist pouring out one last glass. She'd spent a good three minutes wondering which one to choose. She'd then realized she'd forgotten what they'd tasted like individually.
To hell with it.
She wore a somewhat crazy smirk on her face as she poured both liquids into her glass to create a weird purple colored abomination that swirled around like it was chemically active. Elementary chemistry told her she should probably be wary.
To hell with it.
Shepard took it all in in one big gulp. For a second she remained motionless, waiting to see if something would happen. When nothing did, Shepard looked out the window again and began to count the specks of stars. Yes, she could still count. She was alright.
Common sense took over and Shepard finally stretched one reluctant foot to get off the bar stool and retreat to her quarters. She took a second too long to get down, gauging her steps. Nothing seemed wobbly, she could still see straight.
Shepard was definitely alright.
Inside the elevator, Shepard's finger hovered over the key on the console that would take her back to her quarters. She frowned. She really didn't want to go back. Shepard suddenly felt lonely, extremely lonely. She'd be so alone her entire life. Right now, she felt the gripping urge to be with someone- anything but alone back in her quarters. Hell, she had assembled a team of twelve people, brought them back alive from a suicide mission, and had probably made them all heroes of the galaxy. She deserved to be indulged by one of them. If they didn't feel like it, she would order them by authority of being their commanding officer!
Shepard closed her eyes and randomly picked a deck.
"Mordin!"
Professor Mordin Solus looked up from his datapad to see his commanding officer standing at the doorway of his lab, both arms spread out, a very strange grin on her face.
He sniffed the air around him as Shepard coolly made her way inside the lab and unceremoniously plopped herself up on his table.
"Drunk Commander. Interesting." Mordin spent only a second in contemplation before pointedly ignored his CO who was now seated just inches away from his workspace, and resumed studying his datapad. "If there is nothing important, leave. Lots of work."
In one swift motion, Shepard grabbed the datapad he was holding and flung it carelessly onto another table on the far side of the room. Before Mordin could react, she had him caught in a gaze that he could only describe as one quarter sad and three quarters pathetic.
"Mordin, I'm lonely." Shepard dragged out each word, almost like she had a hard time phrasing her sentences.
Mordin narrowed his eyes, frustration seeping into him. "Terribly busy Commander. Sure there are others who can cure your... loneliness."
"Like who?" Shepard had begun to trace the outline of one of the beakers on his workspace.
Mordin reached out and gently pried the beaker from her hands and walked around to place it on a far desk. "Officer Vakarian, of course. Hope you two used the resources I had provided... efficiently."
Mordin didn't bother to hide his grin and the evil glint in his eyes on seeing his CO's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. But Shepard quickly recovered- shaking her head vigorously as if to clear her thoughts. Mordin watched mildly amused as the next second she had her right arm outstretched, index finger pointing straight at him, a look of wild ecstasy on her face.
"You!" Shepard's arm whirled around to point to the seat behind the desk that she was sitting on. "Sit. Now."
Mordin sighed. He supposed it wouldn't do too much harm to his schedule if he were to put up with the drunk anomaly that was currently perched above his table. It might even be interesting to note how their usually straight faced and stern commander behaved under the influence of alcohol. She had certainly amused him with her antics until then. Mordin held back a grin as he complied, seating himself upon the indicated chair.
"Alright," he said, placing both hands on the table, fingers interlocked. "Let's talk."
Shepard turned herself around slightly to face him, a smile plastered on her face.
"Cloaca."
Mordin's eye twitched. "What?"
Shepard continued, no longer dragging her words out, but still managing to sound insanely drunk. "I'm aware of the salarian fascination with cloaca!"
"No fascination that I'm aware of, Commander." Mordin replied, tone even.
"Don't-" Shepard stressed, index finger suddenly less than an inch away from his face. "-question the source of my knowledge Dr. Solus. I learned from the Shadow Broker's dossiers."
Ah!
"Please elaborate, Commander."
Shepard brought her finger back in front of her face, and began to eye it like she would a lab specimen. "You and Kirrahe, referring to each others' cloaca in the middle of the battlefield. Hell Mordin, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to hump each-"
"Cloaca! Cloaca. Very interesting. Evokes curiosity Commander." Mordin began to speak very fast. Shepard for a moment wanted to ask him why in hell he'd interrupted her, when she realized she'd forgotten what she'd been saying before he did. So she listened.
"Been doing my fair share of research in the area. Must say, fascinated with humans. Especially female humans. Hear you have... three?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow. Some part of her brain told her she really shouldn't be having this particular conversation. But that part was small enough to neglect.
"Three-" Shepard looked up, thinking. "Three cloaca?"
"-cae."
"What?"
"Cloacae, Commander. Plural." Mordin smiled as Shepard turned to look at him again, confusion etched on her face.
Shepard gave a quick nod. "Mhm, we have three." She held up three fingers in earnest. "Three cloa-cae."
"Always been curious Commander." Mordin leaned forward. "Human females must possess extreme control. Three cloacae! Must operate one at one time. Fascinating muscle coordination. Do levels of exertion for each cloacal operation vary, Commander?"
Shepard furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Mhm." She held up the same three fingers again. "Three very different levels of exertion."
Mordin's eyes narrowed as he let his grin spread. "Please elaborate, Commander."
Shepard turned around a bit more to look him straight in the eye. She held up one finger. "The first, you get urges. Not much effort." Second finger. "The second, once a month, no effort, hurts like a bitch." Third finger. "The third, slightly more effort. Much worse if you're constipated!"
Mordin didn't know if he felt highly pleased at screwing around with his drunk Commander's senses, or just extremely disturbed at her lack of restraint in describing her bodily functions. He decided to go with pleased.
"Was researching sexual activity in other species as well. Only one of these cloacae is used in the copulating process. Yes?"
"Second one, yep!" Shepard suddenly bent down, one palm cupping her mouth, and she began to whisper sufficiently loudly into Mordin's face. "There are some though- they use the third one!"
Shepard leaned back again, scrunching her face up in disgust. "Never understood that particular brand of crazy."
"Fascinating!" Mordin sniffed. "And first-"
"Oh no!" Shepard shook her head back and forth. "Too small."
Mordin held back a chuckle. "Find myself very interested now Commander." He got up from his seat, and proceeded to clear the things that were atop the makeshift patient bed that was located on one side of the lab. "Must see this for myself." He patted the bed beside him. "Come on now, Commander."
Shepard's eyes widened considerably this time. "Uh, Mordin-"
"For science, Commander. Just need to make few observations. Will take few samples." He began arranging test tubes and filling them with random chemicals. "Might even publish a paper on it."
"Dr. Mordin Solus." He said, airily, looking up at nothing in particular. "Expert on human female tri-cloacae."
Mordin waited another second before he turned around, only to be faced with the sight of his commander fixing him with the silliest grin he had ever seen. "Mordin, oh Mordin."
Mordin sighed, looking down to eye the test tubes in his hand. This predicament would not rid itself soon. He guessed the commander must have consumed much more alcohol than he thought. Or it was probably that her resistance to the same was next to a human infant's.
In the time that he had taken his eyes off her, Shepard had left the table to stand right across him. "I know what that was all about." Mordin looked up finally, eyes narrowed but otherwise expressionless. "You're attracted to me!"
Mordin shook his head. "No, Commander. Salarians possess no sex drive. Our only goal is reproduction. Continuation of species. Do not know what modifications Cerberus made to you. If it involves ability to produce Salarian offspring, then fine."
Shepard didn't reply. She moved to sit on his bead, and for a moment seemed to be admiring the surroundings. Hoping that the alcohol in her system was beginning to wear off, Mordin turned his attention back to his workspace, keeping back things that had been so carelessly displaced by his drunk commander in the right place.
Mordin took a while to arrange everything back to how they were before, and in that time-span Shepard still hadn't uttered a word. Just when he thought she would finally leave him alone, she spoke-
"You're an awesome guy Mordin. You know that?"
Mordin resisted the temptation to attempt to roll his eyes- a human act that he'd grown accustomed to. "Aware of that, yes."
Shepard laughed. "Of course you are. I read about that thing-" she paused, trying to recollect. "-thing where you tried to dissuade that assistant of yours from going out to help the batarians back on Omega."
Mordin looked up, confused. "Shadow broker again?"
Shepard nodded hastily, before speaking again. "I know you would have felt bad if he-" A hiccup- Mordin noted. He would have to study that particular human reflex soon. "Excuse me. Yeah, if he had died. But he didn't. I saved him!" Shepard softly punched the air in delight. Mordin sighed and shook his head. Capacity of a human infant-yes.
"Guess that means we make a great team huh."
Mordin smiled weakly. His allotted time to spend humoring his commander had run out a long time ago. Every nerve in his body was itching to go back to reading his datapad and finally figuring out a cure for the sexually transmitted disease sourced by the varren. "Would make better team if we cooperated. You let me do my work, and I let you-"
Mordin's words were left hanging as Shepard pounced on him with a hug. Being caught unawares tipped his balance and he stumbled back against the desk that he had oh-so-neatly arranged just a moment back. Mordin only had time to hear something slip off the desk before he heard the familiar sound of glass shattering. Cursing under his breath and completely ignoring the human that was hanging onto his body, Mordin turned his head down to see a golden yellow concoction and pieces of glass presently decorating his floor.
He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he contemplated his loss. Finding an asari that had contacted the varren STD had been tryingly difficult. He remembered the trouble he had to go into to arrange a shipment of varren to said asari before she'd even agreed to offer him a sample of her blood. Blood that he had so carefully mixed with the right components to analyze. An analysis that would have fitted in as the last piece in his current endeavor.
Shepard continued to snuggle up to the doctor, burying her head in the crook of his neck and coming very close to choking him with both her hands around his neck, body pressed tight against his one side. Mordin managed to squeeze out part of his hand that had been crushed under her body and typed something into his omnitool, his left hand having been left relatively free.
Deactivating the omnitool, Mordin began to count.
"Don't ever leave me Mordin. I don't think I can do this without you- any of you. All of you guys have just been so nice to me, so nice, so very very..."
Mordin counted to twenty before he felt his commander's body go limp and heard her slight snores. He counted to thirty five before the door to his lab opened to reveal a wide-eyed Garrus Vakarian.
Garrus stayed rooted on the spot, eyes fixed on Shepard latched onto Mordin, seemingly asleep. It took him a moment to take in the situation before Mordin used his free hand to point at the woman that was hanging onto him. Garrus immediately nodded and moved forward to gently transfer their snoring commander into his arms.
"Late. Specifically said 30 seconds." Mordin hissed, straightening the creases on his coat.
"What the hell happened?" Garrus whispered, hoping not to awaken the commander.
"Trouble. Drunk Commander nothing but trouble." Mordin began to push Garrus to the door. "Now leave. Must compensate for loss in time and materials."
Reaching the door, Garrus began to adjust Shepard into a more comfortable position when Mordin yanked him by the collar and Garrus almost went toppling onto the floor along with a drunk, asleep Shepard in tow. "Mordin what the-"
"Interesting fact for you." Mordin said, cutting him off. Garrus turned his head to face a smug looking doctor. "Commander quite... talkative when drunk. Three cloacae for human females. You are aware, of course."
Garrus opened his mouth to protest when Mordin cut him off again. "Must be aware of the posterior cloaca as well then. Apparently Commander quite fond of... copulation through said cloaca. Was too embarrassed to tell you. Apparently gives her heightened levels of pleasure. Unimaginable levels. Advise to take her by surprise. Human females react positively to surprise acts during … copulation. Especially when said act involves such... unfathomable levels of pleasure."
Mordin spent an extra second taking in the horrified look on Garrus's face before closing the door behind him.
