Shepard absently rubbed a few fingers over her brow, gaze down into the terminal, and after a few moments of thought she let her other hand dance over the dimensional orange controls to adjust a few settings. Even if she wasn't handling the changes to the Normandy's systems, she did her best to keep tabs on its progress. Knowing what was happening and what advantages it could give them eased something inside her.
In her periphery she could see Mordin's eyes dance now and then from his work, glancing her way as she systematically went through the morning reports. She'd ignored it for a while, amused and better tempered then she was most mornings. The night had been shorter then usual, she had slept, even if the thought of what dreams had come tightened her stomach.
There was always so much death. Shepard knew she'd grown accustomed to it in some ways, but the breadth of it that she experienced never left a person without scars. How many people could remember their own death, let alone genocide of an entire race? Though far from perfect, her memory was good enough in what it did to only occasionally show her kindness.
Her digits still playing with the controls as she read, her thoughts skimmed over the fading ghost of last night's dream. The Harbringer's voice had underlain it all, an itching whisper as the Normandy was ripped to shreds around her, screams and debris rocking her as she ran. It wasn't just the old crew she saw dying, but everyone that was with her now. She was the survivor in her dreams, seeing them all perish until at long last she was suffocating again.
She sighed a little, index finger moving to scroll down through the last bit of dry reading. At least she had gotten a few more hours then usual. Through the first hurdle of morning duties, Shepard turned to stroll toward Mordin's workbench, even as he casually returned to his own work.
"Shepard. How can I help?"
Of course, it was her who wanted the help. She blinked lengthily before taking the bait, "Have you got a minute to talk?"
Keying in a few more strokes at his lab terminal, Mordin looked up to her with an amicable, thin-lipped smile. "Actually wanted to talk. Medical matters." He rounded the table to come stand by her, speaking in his candid, hurried way. "Aware that mission is dangerous. Different species react differently to stress."
Shepard nodded, trying to imagine what he was getting at, while Mordin continued, "Sexual activity normal as stress release." The Commander's expression almost faltered, but she held the line. "Still recommend caution with Thane. Drell/human liaisons complex. Thane complex as well."
Stopping herself a moment, Shepard looked at Mordin, trying to gauge his expression. Cool as a cucumber, she maintained her air and drew breath to inquire, "...you have a recommendation as a doctor?" A grin tugged at the edge of her lips as Mordin's eyes scolded her. Did she just okay the salarian for a sex chat? Shepard shifted her weight.
"Prolonged human to drell skin contact can cause small rash, itching." Shepard tried not to look away, wondering what prompted the professor's education of such things. "Oral contact may cause mild hallucinations." The sudden image of snagging Thane with the sole purpose to drag her tongue up over his cheek flitted across her mind. She bit onto her tongue to keep herself quiet as she watched Mordin. He looked rather pleased with himself.
"Also forwarding advice booklet to your quarters. Valuable diagrams, positions comfortable to both species," Shepard suddenly found herself thankful she'd never been one to blush much. Why did he have this information? His eyes dropped, thin lips in a good-natured smile as he tapped a few things into his omni-tool. "...erogenous zone overview." He closed his eyes, making the smile more apparent before he looked back up to her.
Shepard raised her brow, forcing her concentration upon some inanimate thing just behind him as she maintained her demeanour, despite the chorus of snide, perverse and immature remarks inside her head.
"Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort." His light voice carried on, nodding to her, "Gave EDI electronic relationship aid demonstration vids to use as necessary." Just what EDI needed. Even AI's get lonely.
Eyes narrowing just slightly, Shepard shifted her head, assessing the salarian as it dawned on her. "Wait a minute, Mordin. You're just yanking me around, aren't you?" The smile that'd been trying to break through finally showed.
Mordin took a step back, "Shocking suggestion. Doctor patient confidentiality sacred trust." She could still see the hinted smile at the edge of his lips. "Would never dream... of mockery." His voice became theatrically mellowed at the end, looking at her still.
"Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard." Her own smile softened as his head drifted, voice more relaxed into their usual good-humour. She'd overheard some of the crew speak of his seriousness, but she imagined they just didn't catch on to the wit. "Will be here, studying cell reproduction. Much simpler. Less alcohol and mood music required."
Shepard could only nod as he turned away back to his workstation, and taking the dismissal, pivoted around and walked back past the terminal she'd been at. Looking down, she shook her head, shoulders trembling slightly with the release of silent laughter, lips pressed tight to keep any sound from escaping. Maybe she interrupted the salarian's work too frequently and this was his idea of payback.
Stopping between doors in the intermediary passage, Shepard reached a hand out to the wall, the other over her face to muffle the sudden sounds of her embarrassed laughter. No words came from EDI, and she wondered for a moment if what transpired was the sort of intel that found its way to the Illusive Man. She better stop before someone came in.
Running a hand down her side, Shepard snagged the bottom of her top and gave it a tug to smooth it out, and rolling her neck, let a more casual smile stay on her lips in the quiet. Breathing deep, she composed herself more, unwilling to entirely dismiss the lighter mood as she headed out to the CIC.
Shepard twisted at the waist, testing the repair to her hardsuit, and the joints seamlessly flowed with her movement. She'd been growing restless with the mundane preparations that had been plaguing the ship lately, gathering resources as she waited for reports on the derelict Reaper. She glanced at Grunt with a grin, seeing him bounce with a vivacious energy. They were both glad to be heading planet-side.
Looking to Tali, Shepard said, "Thanks for helping me with this. Sure you don't want to get off the ship with us?"
The quarian's eyes stayed down, working with a few intricate tools on Shepard's extended arm, the shielding of her suit. "If anyone, Shepard, you should know I'm fine on a ship. I don't think us quarians have the luxury of going stir crazy." The bright spots of her eyes looked up to Shepard, eliciting another smile from the Commander.
"I guess not." Shepard watched the small tools fly over the circuitry, quiet for a moment before she more quietly asked, "You'll keep yourself busy?"
Seeming satisfied, Tali slid the panel closed over the work she'd been doing, though her chin stayed down, "I will try." There was a gentle strain in her words. The Commander had worried about her since their return from the Migrant Fleet. Even if she knew how strong Tali was, she'd always felt like a little sister, and she knew it made her more protective.
"Well I approved some of the upgrade proposals, so perhaps you'd oversee those?" Shepard's fingers danced over the pad to bring her shield to life, a shimmer of blue about her features before it faded into near invisibility. "I'm sure Gabby could use your help keeping Donnelly in line." She couldn't keep the teasing hint from her voice.
Tali scoffed a bit, and the weighted air about her lifted as she said, "I'll take care of the work, Shepard. Promise." Shepard reached a hand to her shoulder and gave a thanks as Tali nodded and turned away to drift back to engineering.
As the Kodiak circled in the sky towards the landing site, Shepard stood up and looked to Grunt and Garrus, listening to the report EDI had of the dig site. They'd intercepted audio that had betrayed Blue Suns activity in the vicinity.
Shepard could see Garrus' talons edging about the butt of his rifle. She tried to bring him on a good portion of the landings they'd done to eliminate merc cells, but for a moment she wondered if it was the best idea. His gaze was distracted, and his mandibles flexed as EDI continued to speak. He looked up to meet her eyes, and she nodded, crossing her arms. Who was she to judge people for changing? She was different too. Life - and death - did that.
Handling her helmet, Shepard looked up as her fingers did the easy work, "Get in cover as soon as we land, sounds like they know we're coming. The Kodiak won't be sticking around." Her face disappeared as she fit the helmet on, its familiar snugness met by the soft click as it sealed at her neck.
Garrus rose, clipping a new heat sink in as he casually drawled, "Aye, Commander." Grunt only offered a large nod.
Feeling the deceleration, Shepard adjusted her balance, shield flickering to life around her as she felt her alertness gain an edge. She unholstered her pistol, cracking her shoulders back as she shifted her weight slowly from the ball of one foot to the other. She could do a lot of damage as is when she was sleep deprived. These mercs weren't going to know what hit them.
Dropping into stance, the doors of the Kodiak slid open, and Shepard's eyes darted about the scene, before she issued the command for her men to move, indicating position as the rapport of gunfire caught about the door, grazing and flickering their shields. Pressing out into the oppressive humidity and sunlight, they folded in behind cover, and systematically began to eliminate the threats, pressing forward and delivering justice.
The blue-armoured bodies of mercenaries littered the levels around them, and Shepard automatically reloaded the clip of her heavy pistol. Her pulse was running high, she'd pushed them hard, and a healthy sweat cloyed her to her hardsuit. Bits and pieces of what was going on had revealed itself in the datapads she snatched off their enemies. It was an illegal operation.
Bending over the lieutenant, Shepard gathered the merc's PDA, reflexively kicking his weapon out of reach, despite the fact he was no longer breathing. Grunt moved about the underground chamber as she scrolled through the latest message on it.
"All clear, Shepard."
She rolled her shoulders, feeling the worked muscles pop and her joints crack in a satisfying way, and she nodded at the krogan. A quick snippet of confirmation came from EDI too, on the wake of his words.
"I'm not certain they've gotten out with the artefact." Shepard said to no one in particular, her voice still on the comm, encapsulated in her helmet. She tossed the PDA back down on the cooling corpse.
Something tightened in her stomach, questioning why she was doing this. It was the mercs, she reminded herself. The less there were, the better things would be for everyone. Part of her hoped the more she eliminated, the harder they would try to stay out of her way. She looked down at the lieutenant again, his helmet cracked open where the headshot from Garrus had blasted through after his shield had failed. He looked young.
Hardening her jaw, Shepard strode towards the door the last mercs had been guarding, with Garrus and Grunt in tow. The doors uncoupled and slid open, revealing a dark Prothean pyramid inside – she recognized it for what it was instantly. Liara, Liara… she pushed the thoughts over with the lieutenant, scanning through the small chamber.
The walls were stone, precise cuts showing the excavation work that had been done to free it. A lattice of grooves broke the smooth surface of the odd dark pyramid, scarce blemished or changed by time. A terminal stood before it, the technology easily Prothean as well. In her travels she'd come to recognize their handiwork more then most – combined with the cypher, she doubted a fake could pass her. Its mechanics glowed a sickly green.
Looking over familiar bits, she reached and entered in a few sequences on the keypad to prep it for her omni-tool. The green holo shifted like gears, glowing and twitching, when the expansive presence invaded her mind. An explosion of light filled her vision, and Shepard staggered back a few paces, body tensing as she raised an arm defensively. But she was in it again.
The flickering brilliance of the Prothean destruction absorbed her thoughts, the doomed screams that had become so familiar heard as though they were from her own lips. Contorting bodies and frames stitched with mechanical components, reminiscent of her own reanimation into the flesh. The looming suffering melded into something it hadn't before, struggling forms that she recognized without thought – the multiple, glowing eyes of the Collectors stood out in the chaos.
Shepard tried to find her breath, the inhalation shuddering in a struggled, choked way as she staggered back on the tips of her toes. Her pulse was in her throat and the world seemed foreign as her eyes readjusted to the light around her. Her vision was swimming, and her balance was almost lost as she pitched.
The solidity of Garrus' arm caught her, having moved in the second he saw her stiffen at the pulse of light, a ripple of energy over the grooves of the pyramid. His thoughts had flown back two years to Virmire. He couldn't see her face as her weight leant heavily into him, Grunt's visage following in his periphery.
"Commander?" The edginess in Garrus' voice went unhidden, and at the word, Shepard's hand swung around to link her arm with his. Grunt huffed his namesake.
"Call the shuttle." Shepard barked in a cough. She pulled herself up, senses still unhinged by the vibrant vision, her sweat gone cold. She could feel a trickle of blood on her upper lip from her nose. The grip Garrus had on her didn't relent, even as he touched his comm. and hastily signalled the Kodiak.
"..and tell -"
"I'm fine, it's just the artefacts are gone." Shepard's voice gained a bit more of its authoritative edge, and she cleared her throat as she forced herself to stand. She swallowed dryly, allowing herself to close her eyes behind the veil of her helmet, "Nothing else for us here. Let's go."
She could hear the sound of her pulse in her veins, and her temples throbbed, but she pulled her hand away, cracking her posture upright as she motioned to the two of them. She didn't let her step waver, even as her stomach did, and she cleared her throat when Garrus hesitated, turning to him.
"You coming, pretty boy?" Her teasing sarcasm knocked the worry from his face, and Garrus just shook his head as he fell into line alongside her, weaving their way back to the surface.
Shepard sat back deep into the shuttle, even as the clamps vibrated through the hull to indicate it was secured in the docking bay of the Normandy. Her pulse had only just settled, her expression still hidden behind the helmet secured on her head. Grunt had grown animated on the return, boasting about how many mercs he'd taken down, and she could only offer a snicker at the few remarks Garrus had handed the krogan back. She was unsurprised by the tension between them. Krogan and turians weren't made to get along, given their history.
Pressure equalized, the doors swung open, and Garrus hung back as Grunt trumped off through the hold. The chatter of the pilot and navigator filtered through, echoing in the wide space outside the shuttle.
"You seriously expect me to think you're alright, Shepard." Garrus leant against the open edge of the Kodiak's doors, crossing his arms. Shepard uncrossed her legs and mimicked his arms, worsening the smirk on his marred features.
"Come on, Garrus, have I ever been alright?"
He laughed a bit at that, and his arms parted, "I'm just getting tired of picking you up after you swoon at the sight of certain Prothean ruins."
Shepard stayed leant back into the seat on the shuttle, and she bounced her leg a bit, looking aside before her head swung back his way, the lights in the bay creating a bright point on her tinted visor.
"Just more of the same. It caught me off guard. I shouldn't have let it."
"Uh huh." Garrus stared her down, turian features still betraying his usual smirk. She held the look, and he raised his hands defensively, standing upright. "All I'm saying is you're usually more then eager to get your helmet off in the shuttle." He turned away before she could respond.
Hearing his footsteps click away through the hold, Shepard released the catch on her helmet and pulled it off, as if in retaliation. She tossed it on the seat beside her as she slouched, closing her eyes to let her neck stretch back as much as it would go.
It reawakened it all. Behind her eyes she could see the bodies, see the slow motion movement and sounds, and she subtly shivered, moving in her seat. She slapped her hand down on the seat not holding her helmet, hardsuit smacking hard, and she used the momentum to hoist herself up. She snatched her helmet, a plume of anger in her chest making her want to spike it in the small space, but she just closed her eyes, running her fingers about the outside.
Her pulse was pushing hard in her chest again, and she drew a deep-rooted breath, gathering herself more. There was no escaping the imagery. She could hear a few crew members moving to finish securing and checking the Kodiak's system, and moving to step out of the shuttle she hesitated, running a hand up under her nose. With a few rubs, the dried blood there flaked away, and checking her hand to ensure it was gone, she assumed command.
Spending the next hour helping a few of the crew finish the busy work in the cargo bay, Shepard sighed with relief as the last of them smiled her way and disappeared to return to their stations. She'd been trying to usher them out. She didn't want to think. Her temples had started hurting shortly after boarding the shuttle, and now the pain had seeped down into her neck, reaching for the fatigue in her muscles. It was a familiar, taxed sensation that had been there each other time she'd been drawn in as a receiver for the Prothean vision.
Finally settled into a familiar section of the hold, Shepard tossed her helmet in against the back wall of the hold. Glancing back through the bay, she hit open the small locker and tugged out a generic white shirt. Moving with fluid ease, she unlatched her hardsuit and took it off in pieces, tossing them over by her helmet with mild disregard.
Pulling the shirt on, Shepard looked down along her body, deciding the tight black pants she wore under the armour would just have to do. She didn't want to ride the elevator, she didn't want to run into anyone. She didn't want to talk anymore right now.
God, she needed a shower. Shepard bent and rubbed some of the feeling back into her feet, having freed them from the last bit of armour. Retying her hair back in the elastic that held it, she turned and punched a few buttons on the treadmill. Ramping it up, it was scarce a moment before she was revved into a steady pace, the sound of her feet echoing into the wider space of the bay.
She ran with her eyes closed, listening to the sound of her breathing and vanquishing her thoughts away into the increasing soreness in her muscles. She was losing track of time, and she relished the bit of freedom it gave her. It wasn't one of her favourite things to do, but it made her feel good – it made her faster, it left her feeling drained and worked. It removed her from the trappings of her position, and moreso, of her mind. It was about her body.
Her hair was soaked with sweat as she finally let herself slow, keeping light on the balls of her feet as she moved, and on the mat set near the machine she dropped into reps. Her thighs burned, but she kept the push-ups moving, a steady pace that ensured she didn't go easy on herself. Her breathing grew increasingly laboured as she fatigued more of her body, and her half-lidded eyes unfocused, methodically counting through the reps. Pushing herself through the extra last set, she kipped-up onto her feet, hands coming to rest on the back of her hips as she panted hard for breath, moving side to side on her feet to keep her muscles moving.
"Had enough yet?"
Shepard rolled back against the wall, snapping out of her immersive exercise, and reaching for her gun she found nothing but the bare fabric at her hip. Leaning heavily on the cold metal her eyes found where the voice came from, and she made a bit of a sound before exhaling, "Thane."
Putting a hand up over her face, Shepard could feel her skin flushed, as much from her exertion as anything. The other wrapped around herself almost self-consciously as she pushed up off the wall. Her fingers dragged down, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked over to where he leant against one of the crates, asking breathily, "What are you doing here?"
"You'd said you would come visit after the mission." He said casually, eyes following her before he added, timbre just as quietly controlled, "Repayment for not being able to take me with you?"
Shepard ran her hands over her face, groaning as she remembered their conversation. The higher atmospheric pressure on Joab made it harder for most people to breath, let alone those with respiratory illnesses. "Completely slipped my mind. Sorry…"
"Quite alright… I'm sorry for startling you, siha."
Her fingers were back in her hair now, smoothing the frizzies from it as she looked forward and stepped a few paces his way. She was smiling a bit, "My bad… I can't expect to have all this space to myself." She crossed her arms, concealing herself some with the motion, suddenly very aware of how sweaty she was, how badly she smelled, and how she must look. She laughed slightly, taking the last few steps to stand before him. His expression was amicable, his eyes still upon her, and he tilted his head, brow slightly risen.
Shepard coughed to clear her throat and looked to him, naturally smiling as she asked, "So been watching me a while?" She tried to dismiss the bubbles in her stomach, spurred by the sudden presence of Mordin's voice in her thoughts, providing inappropriate tidbits about drell.
She consciously unlinked her arms, realizing her defensive stance, and in doing so Thane reached to trace a hand up her forearm. "Long enough," was all he offered.
"Has it been so long since we got back?" His hand had reached hers, and he drew it up into both of his, folding her fingers over, the touch cool against her energetically warmed skin.
"Nearly three hours… It's unlike you to miss something, so I thought to come down." Perhaps it would bother him more with another, but the musky scent of her exertion filled Thane's senses, and he took a deep, slow breath, soaking her in. Shepard's head inclined to him, her other hand touching up tentatively over his, and he mimicked her motion, their foreheads coming to rest together.
"I also thought you could use eating." His voice rumbled in the soft way it always did, and the words lifted Shepard's head so she could meet his eyes, a slight surprise in her expression.
Shepard stood there a moment, and her lips parted as she watched him before her words betrayed her amusement, "What?"
Letting go of her hands, Thane shifted to sit back on the crate, reaching to tug a small container over. She couldn't get the twisted expression of bemusement off her face as she sat down.
"That you might be hungry. You were gone a while."
Shepard pinched a hand across her mouth to try and dismiss her thoughts and she quietly, finally said, "Oh right. Yes. Of course. Food." She rested her hands down into her lap, a goofy grin on her lips as she watched him open a small container of vegetables. Thane looked at her, trying to deconstruct the puzzle of her expression, but he let it go, offering the container to her instead.
Snagging a carrot, Shepard snapped it off into her mouth, munching away. She looked to him as he spoke.
"Were you able to recover the artefact?"
Swallowing with sudden thickness, Shepard looked down, a furrow delicately knitting into her brow. Her tongue rolled in her mouth, dry, before she cleared her throat quietly and offered, "No. It was moved to a ship." She reached to take another stick, her eyes down from him as she hesitated.
"But there was something else." Thane shifted his weight back onto the crate more, turning towards her what he could. His eyes so often seemed upon her, reading her, taking in each detail like Braille to see what was really there.
She snapped the carrot in half, nodding before adding her voice. "There was. We found an active video log in the Prothean ruins of the dig site." The orange stick found its way past her lips, and her eyes turned to his hands as one of them slipped back into her free one. It helped bar the tightening in her chest.
"Back before I…" Breathing deeper, Shepard sat up more, one of her knees drawn up onto the crate, flat so that her calf tucked under her other thigh. "I have some experience with Protheans. In the past… " It dawned on her once more how ridiculous so much of her life sounded in mundane conversation. A little smidge of annoyance sparked in her at a thought of the Council. She looked up, gaze over his shoulder.
"I've had visions of the Protheans through other technology of theirs I've encountered – beacons." Carrot tucked into her pinkie, Shepard shifted, "I've seen how they died, and… because of other experiences, I can understand their language too. Either way…" She drew a breath, her voice taking an air to try and make her words seem more casual, "I had another vision from this."
Shepard filled her mouth with the warmed carrot in her hand, preventing more words from coming. She looked to him, absently chewing as she reached to snag some cucumber. Finishing the root in her mouth, she tilted her head aside, reflectively saying, "It'll fade in time. Least I can be thankful for that, mm?" She faintly grinned at the hopeful lie, eating a slice of cucumber as she kept Thane's gaze.
"Yes..." He manipulated her other hand, fingers linked but stroking down the back of her hand. The flush had left her cheeks, breathing returned to normal. "What do you see?"
She closed her eyes, focusing on the slow touches of his fingers on her hand. So often he'd opened a window into his life, revealing intimate details of his past. Things that had made his heart sing as much as broken it. And none of it was dimmed by time for him.
"Death." She flatly said, her eyes opening half lidded to watch their hands. "It was a warning sent out when the Reapers attacked. It's the genocide of the Protheans at their hands." She'd spoke of it before to others, months ago - no, it was years. To everyone else. The words sobered her, and she tossed the last piece of cucumber back at the container. "This time was different though - there was more. There were Collectors too."
Time seemed so fleeting, as the gravity of the vision weighed into her. She'd been given a second chance at life, literally, and suddenly part of her just wanted to disappear with the alien beside her. But she was someone who could make a difference. Not doing the right thing wasn't an option. Shepard finally met Thane's eyes, the quiet patience of confined concern in their depths. Something that lifted some of the weight.
"You believe me?"
Thane's expression lost some of its sombreness, his weight shifting onto the crate towards her, as he asked, "Why wouldn't I You've no reason for frivolity with such matters."
Shepard tilted her head aside, the soreness in her spine almost halting it as she blinked lengthily. Her bent leg slipped at will, hanging off the crate again. "I just get used to it sounding so unreal. Used to not being believed."
"I more then accept who you are, siha." Her eyes drew to Thane at the tender inflection that came with the name. "Each thing I learn becomes another rarefied facet of the whole, endearing me more." In his words, Thane drew closer to her, his free hand up over her cheek, fingers blossoming over the curvature of the bone. The indelible touch lingered as he leaned in to take her lips.
Stiffening subtly in surprise, Shepard's eyes dropped closed, caught in the sudden affection. She breathed in a reflexive breath through her nose as Thane's fingers slipped, a successive, strummed caress of his fingers down the curve of her neck. Her hand turned his own over onto her thigh, pressing in her own way into the connection of their lips.
Thane's hand slid under hers, squeezing the muscles of her thigh, dark eyes slivered as he soaked in the change in her breath, the sly flicker of warmth over her skin. His lungs ached in the kiss, a collapsing need as her head tilted into him, and the fingers on her neck fell back into her hair, a foreign softness, tresses warm and damp from her exertions.
Her lips parted and he breathed in deep against her, the suction of air cool on her lips, and Shepard briefly opened her eyes. Inexorably close, they couldn't focus right, no matter the enhancements given in her remake, and feeling the slight tug of fingers in her hair, she kissed him again in reply. Her fingers caught about his wrist, partially tucked against the smooth cuff of his jacket, and the movement beckoned him closer.
The fabric intimately followed her curves, as did Thane's hand, gliding along her outer thigh as her lips parted with his. The tip of his tongue flicked against her lips, explorative, unique texture and taste there, savoured, undeniably her, as was the barely discernible sound in her throat. He drew back at it, a flicker of uncertainty in his actions - at the sudden remembrance of her being human.
Shepard breathed in deep and slow, her fingers swirling over Thane's forearm, his tight jacket concealing none of the musculature from her touch. She looked up to him, a light in the bay catching his eyes to more fully show their depth, defining his irises for an instance. There was no escaping how much they lacked the common details she should be looking for in a partner - though they were gaining a familiarity all their own. Her pulse was hard in her throat again, like she hadn't stopped running, and her senses finally returned to her, seeing his expression, seeing more then just his eyes, and she naturally smiled, closed-lipped and relaxed.
Her eyes were so different, little facets and flecks of colour that shifted, pupils moving with detail and ease. Thane let himself draw into them, watching the darkened iris grow, seeing the hint of unnatural enhancement within them. He'd seen it before, it contributed to the successive paintings in his mind that joined together in the cohesive dance of her. Weary eyes, warm and smiling, inquisitive, firm and thoughtful, each set flickered in his thoughts, a shuffle of memories. She was smiling - she was fine.
"The crew will be wondering about you." Thane spoke, his voice rising over the quiet background levels with a tangible rumble. His hand drew back down her thigh, fingers coming over her knee, tracing the shape, and detailing the harder edges of bone with a light touch.
The mixture of teasing reality in his words made Shepard squeeze his arm, and licking her lips she nodded. She was loathe to leave him, having escaped with him for this short time, but he knew as much as she did that they couldn't distract for each other for long.
"Thanks for the reminder." She finally said, her smile softened more as his posture relaxed away from her, his hand dragging until it was in the palm of hers. Inhaling deeply, Shepard looked from their hands to Thane, his expression as captivating as ever. But the smile was there, however much his features were good at concealing the pleasure, and as she reached for the container of veggies aside her, he lifted her hand to his lips, graciously kissing the back of it.