And so Shepard and her alien went out for coffee.
Mordin talked mostly about his nephew. He talked about him getting his tenure and his sense of humor and all the trouble he got into growing up. In return, Shepard talked about a cat she used to have.
Most of the night continued like that. Mordin would bring up a subject, expand on it in a personal sense, and then Shepard would give him a similar story from her life. The salarian was never at a loss of things to talk about and stories to tell. They sat at that table in the hidden part of the Illium shopping center for hours. Mordin did most of the talking, and the commander just rested her chin in her hand and hung on every word he said, just enjoying the sound of his voice.
The flow was interrupted when Shepard gave a yawn and wiped her eyes. He suddenly looked concerned and pushed back his chair to stand from the table. "Shepard. Tired. Will escort you back to your room." She tried to convince him to sit back down, but he was adamant that her health was of utmost importance to him.
Though reluctant to get back on to the Normandy, she did so anyway to appease the professor. He kept an arm wrapped firmly around her waist their entire walk to the ship and didn't let go until they reached the elevator.
"Noticed you have not been sleeping well. Suggest going straight to bed." The humming sounded through his chest, quiet, but unmistakable. "Have been worried about you, Shepard."
She smiled fondly at him and played idly with the collar of his shirt. The elevator stopped. "Walk a girl to her room, would you?"
"Would be delighted." He offered her his arm like he had seen done in so many Earth movies and she took it. He appeared to be very pleased with himself as he escorted the commander to the door to her quarters. "Enjoyed tonight, Shepard. Found conversation very stimulating."
"I also found it stimulating." She chuckled and dropped her hands to her side.
A pregnant pause hung in the air over them while they did nothing but stare into the others eyes. Shepard studied every wrinkle, every scar, every green-tinged strip of skin. Her hands made their way to rest on the tension of the white button-up, bringing her even closer to the man. Mordin hesitantly trailed his own three-fingered hands down the sides of her waist to rest comfortably on her hips.
Heart hammering in her chest and tension pooling between her legs, Shepard balanced her weight on her toes and cocked her head to one side, eyes slipping shut. Mordin, completely out of his element, followed her actions and closed his own eyes and also cocked his head to the side. Unfortunately, it was the same side and the couple bumped heads before successfully locking lips.
They both withdrew, rubbing their respective sore spots before meeting eyes again and laughing uncontrollably. Mordin held her as close as he could and buried his face in her hair. She placed a hand on his temple and pulled him back before gingerly kissing his thin lips.
Mordin immediately responded to her actions enthusiastically by parting his mouth and sucking on her bottom lip. Although kissing was not practiced by the salarian culture, he acted on instinct, grinding his hips into her pelvis and holding her cheek.
Shepard groaned and reached the top of his head to caress his horns. He moved his head back a fraction of an inch and struggled to catch his breath, eyes wide and wild. "Shepard. Suggest it is not in your best interest to do that." She only raised an eyebrow and repeated her previous action. "No, please, Shepard." His eyes rolled back and his head lolled to one side. "No, no, no, Shepard." An almost ear shattering buzzing came from his chest.
The commander removed her hand and lightly ran her fingers over his wrinkled lips. "Alright, I give. What's the noise?"
"Ah, yes." He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous as his composure changed and his eyes darted around the hallway. "Wanted to talk. Not preferable environment. Quarters seem more appropriate. If you don't mind, Shepard. Promise not to," he stopped and fought to find the words. "Try anything."
She palmed the keypad and held out an arm. "By all means. After you."
He nodded at her in gratitude and advanced into her room. He stood and waited for her to come after him. Instead of standing in front of the salarian, she brushed past him and headed straight for her bed. Shepard sat and patted the open space next to her. Mordin obliged to her unspoken invitation.
"Shepard. Have recently discovered something about myself." He furrowed his brow and blinked a few times. "No, no, no. Must start at the beginning."
The human reached out and put a hand comfortingly over his thigh. A smile wormed onto his features and he covered her hand with his.
"Salarian females lay a clutch of eggs every year. Strict social ques allow for only a few eggs to be fertilized. Fertilized eggs hatch and grow into females. Mating contracts ensure eggs are fertilized." Mordin expected Shepard to interrupt, but instead she waited quietly. "Mating contracts are a fairly recent development. Told you once that salarians possess little sex drive. Not entirely true. Prior to mating contracts, salarians imprinted on a suitable mate. Imprinting causes both salarians to form an extreme emotional and physical bond. Talked to Chakwas, Shepard."
"But that doesn't explain that sound."
He lightly touched the dip in his chest. "Similar to turian sub-harmonics. Intended to ease the other before," he coughed. "Copulation."
Although realizing the seriousness of the conversation, Shepard had to hold back a chuckle. "So, you want to... copulate with me?" The salarian remained silent. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." She angled her body towards that man and took his head between her hands to draw it to her shoulder and let it rest there, understanding that he was embarrassed. "I want to copulate with you, too, Mordin. Just not right now."
He sighed from his position near her breast. "Understand, Shepard. Not intentional. Humming is subconscious. Often don't hear it, myself."
"I like it." She leaned into him as he used his good horn to nuzzle her cheek. "Does this mean you've imprinted on me?"
"Would appear that way."
"I'm flattered." She stoked his horns in the way she had earlier and Mordin was practically purring. "I like you a lot, Mordin. I want to try to make this work."
"Assuming a lot of 'trying' will not be necessary." He responded without missing a beat.
They weren't able to stay that way for long, with Mordin half in her lap and her caressing his skull. EDI came over the speaker and interrupted them. "Shepard. Dr. Chakwas was searching for Dr. Solus. I informed her that Dr. Solus was using the facilities. Expect a call if he is not found in the next ten minutes."
"Thank you, EDI."
"Logging you out, Shepard." Mordin sat with his back mostly erect and watched Shepard for an indication that he needed to leave. She gave him an apologetic look as he offered his palm to her. As she laid her own palm against his, Mordin explained under his breath, barely more audible than a whisper.
"Salarian display of intimate affection. Considered medieval by most social orders. Believe human equivalent would be kissing, and to turians, headbutting." The professor looked to be beyond pleased with himself. Shepard locked her thumb around the back of his hand and brought herself to sit on his lap, straddling his waist.
"You have to go see Chakwas." He opened his mouth to protest but Shepard held a finger to his lips. "I have to go to do a couple of things tomorrow, but I should be free tomorrow night. You want to come back to my quarters to have dinner?"
He picked up on the underlying implications. "Will have to do more research. Make sure all health risks may easily be taken care of. Could not live with myself if put you in danger, Shepard." The emotion in his eyes was so sincere that the commander forgot how to breathe.
He drew her in to kiss her on the lips, one hand hand guiding her. "Will bring the wine." He assured her before reluctantly standing and leaving.
Once the room was empty, save Shepard, she cupped seashell in her pocket and smiled before becoming increasingly aware of a pressure between her legs. She turned the lights out, fed her fish, found her hairbrush, pulled the sheets back, pulled her pants down, sprawled across the bed, and went to work, thoughts of a scientist salarian plaguing her thoughts.
I apologize if the flow of this chapter was strange. Normally I would write a chapter over the span of one or two days, whereas this had to be stretched out over four.