It was only hours later, although it felt like days to Shepard when she finally was able to return to her quarters. The Normandy was limping along at a sedate pace on a course that would take them to the Citadel in a few day's time, and while the ship was badly damaged, EDI was optimistic that they'd make it back into dock just fine.
For the moment, she had done all that she could do.
She stumbled along to her quarters, exhaustion finally setting in. She didn't even bother turning on the lights, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of the fish tank.

The bed looked very inviting, but her terminal reminded her that there still was so much to be done. Maybe she'd better get some more messages out, plan ahead, make absolutely sure supplies and repair crews were waiting for them once they reached dock.
Shepard was almost at her desk she realised that someone else was present. Sudden alarm was replaced by relief as her tired mind resolved the shape on the couch into the familiar form of Garrus.
"Hey." she called out to him.

He came over, his glance sharp as he took in her state. "Don't worry, there's no emergency. I'm just here to make sure you don't continue working from here. You really need rest."

She hesitated, touched by his concern, and admitted to herself that his worry wasn't entirely unfounded. And she was too tired to argue at the presumption. She stripped out of her uniform down to her underwear with no second thought about it, then slipped under the covers, aware that Garrus was watching with a certain smugness at her acquiescence.
"Pleasant dreams." he said, amused, and she blinked. No. That wouldn't do.
"Stay? Please?"

He grew still for a moment, surprise on his face, that was quickly replaced by a softer expression. "You sure about that? Because I think Miranda saw me coming up here."

Shepard shrugged. "I'd not be surprised if most of them know, or suspect. I don't care. Do you?"

He shook his head.

"Good. I'm not going to hide. Anyone who has a problem with who I'm with can take it up with me personally. I'll take pleasure in telling them to go hang in the most unambiguous way possible. And if they are enough of a bother about it I might use the Cain to bring the point across. Now, stay?"

He gave no verbal reply, but lowered himself down to the bed on her side, arranging himself carefully to find a position that was both reasonably comfortable for him and still allowed her to lean against him without being stabbed by any sharp edges and points on his plates.
It was slightly awkward, and not completely successful as she winced from the narrow ridge of his keel-bone, but she had to laugh at it, and heard his amused rumble in reply. Not yet perfect, but she had the feeling they both would learn their way around that, soon. She relaxed, feeling his breath against her neck, and her last conscious thought was that this, at least, was right.

# # #

Shepard woke in a way that was completely new but very pleasant: with a turian curled up around her, his hand on her hip, his mouth against her shoulder. With a smile, she decided she could get used to this very quickly.
She wondered whether he was still asleep, but when he shifted his hand up to stroke her waist, that question was answered. She leaned back into him, stretching contently as his fingers trailed again down the curve of her hip.
"Don't start anything you don't intend to finish." she warned him with a chuckle.

"Now that's insulting." he rumbled, amusement heavy in his voice. "I do have an assignment from you, remember?"

She did. "You were to show off what your research into interspecies relations yielded."

He growled, his fingers trailing over her thigh. "So you said. Would now be a good time for that evaluation?"

Shepard laughed. "I think it's a perfect time." She turned around to face him. "Show me what you have learned. You're in charge."

He went still, surprise clear in the way his mandibles twitched, and she knew that she had hit on something cultural there. "Are you sure about that?" There was a sudden intensity in his tone. "Because that's not something I can do half-way."

Shepard frowned slightly. "Is this an unusual request for you?" She was well aware that he did regard her as the dominant partner in this relationship they had, and from what she knew about turian customs, their rules about rank reached into private live as well and were much stricter. There was the distinct possibility that the rather casual offer to relinquish that control was something insulting or inappropriate.

"No, not unusual." His mandibles twitched again as he struggled to explain. "Just something that is only done in an established relationship, between permanent partners. That only works between equals, and needs a lot of trust on both sides."

With a smile, she traced the blue marking on his cheekplate with a thumb, and his breath hitched. She might not be familiar yet with all his reactions in this context, but she could read that well enough. He wanted that, very badly, more than she would have suspected. Then, with a flash of insight, she realised that he didn't want it because of some dominance issue - that would have been a human motive - but because for him it was symbolic, a mechanism of bonding. It held more meaning to him than even simply a display of trust.
The sensible way would have been to establish at least some ground rules, because they weren't used yet to each others needs and limits. She chose to not be sensible in this instance, because this was about trust, not reason.
"No one in this galaxy that I trust more than you." she said by way of reply.

Something darkened in his eyes, and then she suddenly was under him, as he leaned over her, cradling her face in a hand. "Then relax, and let me learn how to touch you."

It was different this time, she thought. This wasn't a quick, mostly desperate act before a mission that was likely to kill them, or the animal need mixed with loneliness and shock they'd shared on Shanxi. This time, they had time. This would be for real, for the two of them.

His tongue trailed over the side of her neck, the texture rougher than a human's, and she sighed, letting her head fall back. His hand found her breast, caressing a nipple in a slow stroke of thumb as his tongue trailed down over her collarbone.
Pleasure flooded her, running like liquid heat over her nerve endings, and she reached for the back of his neck to draw him close, but he growled, the lick turning into a nip over her collarbone. She gave a startled sound, both surprised at the nip and the fact that it was strangely pleasant.

He lifted his head briefly to look at her, his eyes intense, but with an unmistakable glint of humour.
"I said relax. Enjoy. Don't worry about me now. There's no need to rush any of this."

She was minded to disagree, but then his tongue curled around one nipple, and she forgot her objection. Prehensile tongue, a distant part of her mind supplied. Maybe it was just some evolutionary adaptation to make up for the lack of mobility of their lipless mouths.

He wasn't awkward now, not at all, and that once again made it clear to her that all his nervousness about this part of their interaction that he had shown before the Omega 4 relay had been simply a mixture of worry at ruining things if he made a mistake, and a lack of rules and definition for whatever was between them. It was just what he was, the way he was wired, and as much as he might refer to himself as a bad turian, he still was turian enough to require the stability of a formal framework of rules that defined the nature of their relationship. He had needed to know where they stood, needed to know his place in all of this. The wait-and-see attitude humans so often applied to relationships didn't work well with a turian, and as far as she could tell they weren't used to having to resort to talking about these specifics as humans did. Even in their private lives, they were much more formal, with specific gestures that had distinct meanings in this context, instinctive ritualised courtship behaviour intended to make certain both partners were in agreement and in sync. She had learned some of these gestures, and it had been enough to reassure him and let him know that the feeling was mutual and that it was anything but casual.
He knew now, and right now they were playing by his rules. Therefore he had no reason to doubt himself, or her.

He was clearly experimenting, trying out different strokes and variance in pressure, and that methodical enthusiasm made her smile. And he was just as single-minded and precise in his exploration of her as he was in combat, or in familiarising himself with a new piece of tech or weaponry. Even if he was impulsive sometimes, he never came into any fight or tense situation without being prepared. He would have read the manual, done the research, and this now would be him in the process of fine-tuning the parameters. It was so completely like him that she chuckled. For a fraction of a second she worried about that, because he might take that wrong and as some sort of slight, but the good-natured rumble she got in response reassured her that the wordless understanding they so often had between them both in combat and out of it extended to this as well.

Then he seemed to decide that he didn't want her attention straying like that and grazed his teeth over her the sensitive skin of her breast, and that made her shiver with pleasure.
Quick strokes of his tongue seemed to sample the taste of her skin, and she was almost certain he could taste her arousal from that as well. If the deep sound that was a mix of growl and purr that he made was anything to go by, he fully approved. He rubbed his plated cheek against her left side, just under her ribs, an almost feline move, slid his hand over the curve of her hip and the side of her thigh, and the slow burn of desire flared up into full, raging heat as her hips instinctively rose to meet his touch.
She whimpered as he shifted his grip to the inner side of her thigh, then tasted the skin on her other thigh with a quick flick of his tongue. It felt good, very good, but not enough at the moment, because as much as she had intended for them to take their time, it was too slow. She needed more of his touch than that. She didn't quite squirm, but he noted it anyway, and his chuckle was both amused and turned on.

"I see. Let me try this, then."

There was no time to ask what he had in mind, and no need to, as he dipped his head between her legs and licked against her, his tongue parting her folds. The pure shock of that contact made her jolt, drawing a long groan from her, and it was exactly what she wanted, needed. Another slow stroke of his tongue, and she tensed, close to the brink already.
The thought of that cut through the pleasure and she regained some sense. No, that was almost embarrassingly fast, and not how this was intended to be. Her hands fisted in the sheet as she fought for control, closing her eyes in an effort to regain some small measure of composure, and watching him do that to her certainly didn't help in that regard.
Still she moaned in instinctive protest as he suddenly stopped.

"No," he said, his tone almost fierce. She was too far gone to try and lift her head to see him, but she knew from the tone that he was serious. "Don't hold back. Don't. I need to see you."

She was still trying to process his words when his tongue was back on her, and her reason took a temporary leave of absence. The tip of his tongue curled around her clit, a sweet, slow slide that made her arch her back in reaction. Another stroke, and that sent her right over the edge, her body shivering helplessly as tension peaked, then broke. She almost sobbed in relief, opening her eyes to see his face close to hers, expression intense.

"That's it." His voice was deeper, with an even wider range of subtones to it than usual. "Just like that."
Her voice wasn't steady enough to reply, but it wasn't necessary either because he disappeared from her field of view, and another lick had her jerk hard again, pleasant tension gripping her once more as he started lapping at her.
Sensation built up again, instant as a flash flood and just as inevitable. His tongue probed at her, teasing, drawing a shuddering moan from her, then snaked into her.
She arched her back with a choked scream, but he held her down, hands on her thighs, claws tucked in so their curve rather than their tips rested against her skin. Her breath was reduced to a hard pant as his tongue curled inside her, setting nerve endings afire with pleasure one slow pass after another. Then he hit some sensitive spot deep inside, swirled the tip of his tongue in a lazy circle, and that set her off hard.
She had just enough air for a broken moan as pleasure crested, then broke, leaving her clenching around him. He purred, continuing to stroke her as wave over wave of pleasure swept over her, through her, drawing out the moment longer than she'd ever considered possible.

Then he lifted himself up over her, regarding her with both satisfaction and growing need. She half leaned up to lay a hand against his chest, maybe to draw him close, but he was already moving. He gathered her up in a fluid motion, tongue flicking over her collar bone in a fleeting caress, then turned her around, His hands slid over her front, following the curve of her breasts, then her sides, settling on her waist. He unfolded his legs from underneath him and swung them over the edge of the bed, shifted, then lifted her into his lap.
She was out of balance for a moment, but his arms were around her, stabilising her. "There. Lean back against me."
The curve of his torso was so different from a human's, but leaning against him like that was surprisingly comfortable. A better fit than it should have been, given their differences in built. His mouth was close to her ear, mandibles ghosting over her shoulder, and she could hear as well as feel him purr. And she wanted him, not in the desperate heat of the moment like on Shanxi, not in the mindless need from a few moments before, but in a gentler, yet somehow even stronger urge. He drew his hand down between her legs, nudged her into place, then pushed himself into her in the sudden, immediate way that as she had learned so far was the norm for his species.
She gasped at the suddenness of it, his own groan of reaction soft in her ear as they adjusted to each other. Pleasure spread through her lower body like a gentle, glowing warmth, a slow pulsing rhythm as he started to move.

"Need you," she said softly, not quite sure how to make him understand. This wasn't just about now, not just about physical gratification, as satisfying as that might be. Sex was merely one way to bond, the most obvious and maybe most pleasant one, but still just a means to an end, not an end in itself. It went much, much deeper than that, and he needed to understand that. And she didn't quite have the words.

"I'll always be here for you," he replied, just as soft, his hands stroking over her slowly, almost dreamy.
Whatever worry she might have had faded. He understood what she meant. It was enough for now. She'd find the right words, over time, to make him really know how much he meant to her.

She reached for him like just as naturally as for a part of herself, lifting her hand back to rest against his fringe, stroking the smooth spines.
His purr dropped in pitch, which did strange and very pleasant things to some more primitive part of her brain. Their rhythm was slow, unhurried, because there was no need to rush towards an end that was inevitable anyway. Pleasure rose, not in a sudden surge but a steady, slow flood. She shivered against him again, arching against his hands, the sensation of release not violent as before but almost calm, intense. Pleasure levelled out instead of dropping, then gradually rose again as he increased his pace slightly.

"Again," he growled against her ear, and almost as if responding to a command she arched against him as he angled his hips, his hands roaming over her body. She was lost in the sensation, the feel of him against her and in her. He nuzzled the back of her neck, then suddenly closed his teeth gently, shocking pinpricks of raw pleasure that made her cry out despite herself. That was unexpected, and something her research about turian behaviour hadn't turned up, but despite the fact that she knew that his teeth were sharp, she wasn't worried. She simply trusted him, on a level that was instinctual rather than anything related to reason, and knew that this wasn't any sort of threat, nor a dominance gesture, but something gentle, an invitation to let go.
It didn't need words or explanations.
With a low moan, she leaned back against him, feeling her muscles relax and melt against him, leaving him complete control, trusting him to take the both of them towards the inevitable conclusion.

She felt him respond to that sound he'd wrung out of her, or maybe it was that move of surrender that made him growl again, felt him shift inside her, friction increasing to a delicious, mind-numbing level, and knew he was close to breaking limit. The knowledge of that was heady, added to the torrent of sensation she already was caught in, and she whimpered again as he pushed his hand down her front, sliding his fingers over sensitised flesh.
His thumb circled her clit again, making her writhe against him. His rhythm was becoming faster, almost desperate, his grip on her waist tightening.
Each thrust sent additional tiny shocks through her, distinct strands of sensation that suddenly combined into an overwhelming wave that swept through her. She felt herself go almost limp for a time-skipping moment, then arched her back against him as climax sent what was left of her conscious mind spiralling hopelessly beyond control.
He wasn't far behind, shuddering through his own release as he continued to hold on to her, a strange, multitonal sound stuck somewhere in his throat that she'd never heard before, then her viewpoint veered as he let himself fall to his side, drawing her down with him.
She didn't even tense up, trusting him to keep the both of them unharmed.
Distantly, she felt him slip out of her, but his grip on her didn't loosen.

She was content just to lie there and come down again, wait to catch her breath again and for her heart rate to return to normal, feeling him solid and warm at her back.
And his teeth were still around the back of her neck. As if reading that thought, he released her, although she thought she could feel the reluctance in that.
"Sorry, should have warned you about holding you like that. That was a bit -"

"Don't you dare apologise, for any of that," she interrupted, trying for a stern tone and failing spectacularly. "That was..." Words didn't quite seem to cover it, and she waved her hand vaguely, then just gave up and laughed.

Garrus rumbled in reply, sharing in her amusement. "It's rare to see you at a loss for words."

"I'm not. I'm perfectly coherent," she protested out of pure reflex.

"Of course. I take it you approve of the results of the research I did?" There was a certain smugness in his tone, but she figured he had earned the right to that.

"Quite satisfactory." Her reason was slowly coming online again, and she frowned slightly. "Just out of curiosity, what precisely were your sources for that research? Can't have been what Mordin came up with, if I go by the information material I received."
He didn't reply, and that was unusual and sharpened her interest. Judging by the performance he'd just delivered, he'd more than done his research. And she was rather certain that there wasn't a manual on her, of if there was, it was written by Cerberus, and thereby both classified and probably inaccurate.

"Well?"

"A good investigator never compromises his sources," he stated in a virtuous tone that simply had to be faked.

"Not fair," she complained faintly. "I answered you when you asked the same question of me." At his continued lack of reply, she snorted. "I could order you to tell me, you know."

He just gave a growling purr in reply, a sound so low she could practically feel it echoing through her. Maybe it should have felt calming and peaceful, but something in that sound did something to her insides that was distinctly not calming. No, not calming at all, she thought as slow, heavy warmth uncurled somewhere inside her again, a pleasant sensation that held the promise of more. If he meant to distract her from the question, he was succeeding perfectly. Then again, it didn't really matter how he'd come by his knowledge. Or what, or who, might have helped him.

Garrus nuzzled the back of her neck again, then stroked slowly over her hip and down around her thigh. His hand came to rest between her thighs, and at that she made a sound almost like a purr herself, leaning into the touch.
Warmth flared up into real heat and turned into renewed desire, not the sharp variant that demanded immediate response but a slower, gentler kind that was was content to be patient.

"Seems to me we're not done yet." he remarked, dead-pan, but there was a eager, joyful undertone to his voice.

She refused to be embarrassed about that. "Maybe a side effect of the cybernetics." she said lazily. "I recover quickly. In all respects, it seems."

With a thoughtful hum, he stroked the textured pad of his thumb slowly over her labia, clearly testing the situation. He seemed quite pleased with the reaction he got from her.
"You're right. You recover quickly." He slid his thumb up to graze against her clit, the pressure just right to really catch her interest again. "But so do I."

His statement made her chuckle, and she turned around in his arms to face him. "It would appear to me that we're quite well-matched, then." Maybe it wasn't the cybernetics and upgrades at all, she thought as she stroked a thumb over the blue streak on his cheekplate. Maybe that reaction was just due to the choice of partner.
His expression was relaxed, at ease, but she found a slow heat kindling in his eyes that matched her own. With a smile, she reached around his fringe, cradled the back of his head and drew his head in, resting her forehead against his.
His purr increased in volume as he lifted a hand to draw his thumb slowly against her jaw.
They didn't break contact as she hooked her leg over his hip, and his hand slid down to the small of her back, drawing her close again.