-Garrus-

"Alright, here's the deal." Jane's voice is oddly calm despite the way her body nearly dislodges from the tank's seat at each bump she insists on hitting full force.

I'm going to die with this woman driving. How can she be this bad? Garrus tightly grips the strap by his seat with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other. This is the only time he has ever wished he wasn't a Turian with a chest too broad to fit the human safety harness. Jane had, annoyingly, opted out once she discovered neither he nor Wrex could wear any.

"The Admiral thinks his men went missing in this vague area. Garrus, you have the exact coordinates so tell me when I'm getting warm." She frowns and her little pink tongue pokes between her lips as she rockets off a rise.

"Damn it, Shepard," Wrex groans from the gunnery seat. "Take it easy or you're going to have a Krogan blowing chunks in your shiny new tank."

"Let's not fill my workspace with that smell." Garrus holds the navigation terminal and breaths heavy. "You're on a straight away to the target, Commander." His voice is weak but he's still able to keep track of their course.

"Cut the act, Vakarian, and get your woman to control this thing." Garrus' response is only a groan and half assed attempt to think of a remark.

"Oh, calm down you two babies," Jane scolds as the Mako begins to slow to a more manageable pace.

Their target is just in the distance and they vaguely begin to make out the details of the situation. It seems like the Admiral's team had taken in their own ground vehicle to investigate the nearby distress signal transmitter. The radar still pings from the tower's call and Garrus' brow lowers in suspicion.

"I don't like this," Jane comments. "Wrex, Garrus, keep an eye out for anything."

They give a silent aye as both of them quickly overcome their earlier nausea and Garrus scans through the terminal for signs of life. No matter what parameters he uses, all that shows on the radar is the solitary transmitter.

"Holy shit," he hears Jane gasp and immediately looks up, catching the sight of bodies strewn about the ground vehicle. "What the hell happ-"

Her words are cut short by a deep shaking from the ground, vibrating up the Mako's tires and rattling all of the tank's interior systems. Garrus' mind starts trying to piece together the pieces, his heart beating faster as he tries to grasp at the answer just beyond his reach, when a loud, rattling roar fills the air. Wrex's scream of "Maw!" goes unheard as Garrus quickly looks to his wife and his blood runs cold.

Her hands are clenched tight around the wheel, her armor creaking and arms quivering at the pressure. Her chest is moving rapidly and uncontrolled, her breaths hitting his ears as choked gasps as his visor records her rapid heart rate. Her skin is deathly pale, her pupils are blown wide, the green nothing more than a thin sliver of color, and focused solely on the monster of her nightmares as it stands guard over the distant tank.

"Wrex," Garrus snaps and the Krogan jerks to attention. "Take the wheel. If that thing makes a move, you get the hell out of here." Garrus gets out of his seat. "And for once, don't be a Krogan and try to take it out."

Wrex doesn't respond but leaves his post as Garrus grabs Jane's wrists. "Jane, look at me." She doesn't move, doesn't falter in anyway besides a slight shift under his palms and he pulls her hands from the wheel. He quickly lifts her from her seat by her hands, but she just crumbles to the floor once out.

Wrex takes her place, but Garrus' entire focus is only on his wife, his bondmate, that isn't showing any sign of understanding. "Jane," he softly says, his voice breaking in worry. He takes her face in his hands and tries to get her to look at him, to see him. "Jane, you need to come back. You aren't there anymore, Jane. Akuze will never hurt you again."

Her pupils shift, still empty but not as dark and lost, like she's searching but can't see yet. "Jane, Amora." He puts his head against hers, knowing he's never used Turian endearment but hoping she can hear the love in his voice and harmonics. "Please come back." His chest rumbles deeply in a bass note, calling wordlessly to his mate.

Her body suddenly collapses and he doesn't hesitate in pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her back and vibrating in desperate subvocals. Her hands weakly grasp at his body and he wishes they weren't in armor, that they were able to be closer, able to feel each other's hearts beating in their own special synchronicity. He wishes he could take the pain and fear pulsing in her tiny body, take it into himself and carry the burden she should've never been given.

She gasps a weak, pained breath that makes his heart break in his chest and he croons into her ear. His voice is nearly broken, but he tries again to reach her. "Jane, I'm here. I love you."

Her body jerks and a sob escapes her lips, but her hands tighten with assured strength and her faltering breaths even out to heavy pants. "I love you too," she whispers against his body.

He makes her stay in his arms until her heart steadies and a quick look to Wrex shows that the Maw still has shown more interest and remains safely by its previous kill. Eventually, though, she gains enough strength to push him away, offering a weak smile of thanks before her mask slips back on, though its seams are fresh, but neither he nor Wrex are going to say something.

"Wrex," she commands even through her shaky vocal cords. "Stay on the wheel. You know how to maneuver around them better than any of us. Garrus, stay on the radar and keep track of it, let Wrex know if it tries to come up under us." She glowers and stares out of the Mako, seeming to lock eyes with the Maw. "I'm taking the guns. Let's blow this bastard to hell."

Both men give her a firm nod and take their places, awaiting for her ready order. When she gives it, Wrex takes off towards the creature as Jane constantly lays fire into its segmented body, switching between guns when they overheat.

With Wrex's constant movement to circle and lure the Maw from burrowing and Garrus' eye to make sure they aren't in for any more surprises, the Thresher is unable to do much besides writhe in pain and toss acid uselessly. Jane is disturbingly quiet as her entire focus zeros in on the beast, her control of the tanks' guns putting all of her pain and anger into its flesh.

When one final, tortured breath, the Maw throws its head into the air before its body slams to the ground. Jane's gun slowly spins to a stop as Wrex approaches the body, almost unrecognizable from the numerous bullet holes and cannon blasts. Jane hops down from her gunner seat and slams a fit into the door release of the tank before dropping to Edolus's dusty surface.

Wrex grunts softly and drops a hand on Garrus' shoulder before he can stand. "Not too many warriors can come out of something like that. Even fewer are able to pull one out." He doesn't say anything else before standing and hoping out of the tank, leaving Garrus to ponder his words before following suit.

When he drops out of the tank, he sees Wrex crouching by the Thresher body and doing something with his mouth. He ignores him and moves to help Jane with the transmitter, easily catching up on her head start as she frowns at the sight of the fallen soldiers.

"Garrus," she says without looking up. "Can you take care of the distress signal? I want to collect these men's tags. Their families deserve that at least."

He nods, his chest still aching from the pain in her eyes, but does as she asks and moves to the transmitter, pulling up his Omni-Tool to begin. During its shut down protocol, he glances over his shoulder to see Wrex now done with his task and aiding her. She still seems shaken, but her body isn't visibly trembling like before so he takes it as a small step.

The shutdown is almost complete when his Tool chimes and pulls up an alert. He quickly reads it, his eyes widening in shock at the discovery. "Jane, look at this." She comes to his call, her hand full of jingling tags, the sound a stark contrast to their darker purpose.

She scans over her own interface once the alert transfers and she curses softly under her breath, his translator not picking it up. "I can't believe it. This was a fake?!" She looks to him and he rumbles apologetically. She sighs. "Well, let's go." She looks out across the horizon. "This planet holds nothing but death now. I left one tag in case the Alliance has the decency to come give this men a proper burial." She looks at the tags in her hand. "Maybe they can have peace, now."

Their trip back to the ship is quiet, Jane not willing to say anything and he and Wrex not knowing what to say in her place. When they dock with the ship, it is late in the evening and most of the crew are either asleep or well into their off duty shift. Jane gives Wrex and Garrus leave to go their ways and takes the elevator up, alone.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" Wrex asks with a slam of his locker.

Garrus glares. "What does it look like? I can't just walk around the ship with her." He shoves his weapons in his locker but makes sure to handle his new rifle with care, as if it were the person who gave it to him. "I wasn't even supposed to pull that stunt out Edolus, but I don't regret it. She can kill me for it later."

The Krogan snorts, unimpressed. "You got a lot to learn…"

Garrus slams his own locker shut, the metal door rattling in aftershocks. "And just why are you so friendly, all of a sudden? You get off on seeing your commander break down?"

Wrex laughs, a full belly, deep rumbling that echoes through the metal walls of the hold. "Shepard's not like the other weak humans on this ship." He shoves a finger at Garrus' shoulder, pushing him back a step. "You want to do something about Edolus? Then grow a quad and get out of my space."

Garrus growls and a flicker of mandible, but Wrex's attention has moved on as he pulls something from one of the pockets in his armor and inspects it. He holds what Garrus sees as a tooth from the Thresher into the light and makes an obvious show of no longer having anything to say.

With a huff, Garrus leaves the stupid Krogan to his tooth and takes the elevator up to the crew quarters. Surprisingly, the ship is almost completely empty, running on a skeleton crew for basic needs, and the only sound, besides the soft snores of the crew in the distance, is the noise of running water in the showers. Curious, he moves to the Normandy's unisex showers and the door opens with a soft swoosh.

Standing under a steaming downpour is Jane, her head down and motionless except for the expanding and collapsing of her ribs. He softly rumbles in pain and moves to the door, setting a quick delay on its mechanism to act as a warning system.

Once done, he shifts his attentions to his own armor. He makes sure to make enough noise for her to recognize him, but if she does hear him, she doesn't show any sign. Once the last of his armor is striped from his plates, he approaches her, his chest thrumming in concern and bonded affection.

Jane places her hands against the wall before her as he comes up behind, nuzzling into the back of her neck where her hair parts to flow over her shoulders. She sighs and gently steps into his body, silently demanding his plates against her skin.

"Garrus," she sighs as his hands wrap around her waist, one to rest a hand on her soft belly and the other to grip her opposite hip, pulling her to his body. "I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to be a commander if I have a panic attack when I face a Thresher?"

He rumbles in response and drops his chin to her shoulder, unable to find the words to help her. Of course he'll be right there to help her out of whatever dark place she goes, but he knows that that is more of a promise to be kept in private and not where those she's trying to hide from can see.

"I love you, Garrus." One hand drops to his on her stomach. "I'd be lost without you, both at home and on the battlefield, it seems." She lifts his hand to place a soft kiss on his palm before dropping it to her chest and pressing his fingers around her breast.

"Jane," he warns as his own body jolts to life in expectation.

"I locked the doors for anyone but you." Jane throws her head back. "Anyone would simply think I want a solitary shower… unless you were seen?"

He purrs and licks her shoulder. "No, but are you sure this is what you want?"

"Garrus, you're the one thing that pulled me out." She turns her head and runs her tongue along his mandible, he it against her mouth in instinct. "I want you to make love to me," her next word is a breath of a whisper against his plates, "Amora. My love."

She licks her tongue on the sensitive inner membrane of his mandible and his hips jerk uncontrollably. She's never known that spot before… She softly moans, pressing her ass back into his hips and grinds against her, using her body to urge his plates open.

Her hands move to hold him, one at his waist as it caresses, messages, and scratches, and the other to his fringe to alternate between gripping the center crest to messaging under its base as he holds him to lathe her tongue on her new discovery.

Every experience with Jane was new and special and every time he found himself either in her arms or she in his, a new sensation was discovered, a new pleasure point thoroughly explored, that every time before her seemed overshadowed and insignificant. Even the most routine of caresses and touches that they shared every time they together sent white hot sparks of pleasure through his body and he knows it's not the touches themselves, but the unbreakable connection they had. Jane was his second half, his heart, his soul, and each stroke of skin and plate was a mere bringing together of the whole.

"Garrus," Jane pants into the side of his mouth and licks against his teeth in silent request.

He turns to her and gladly lets her pull him into a deep kiss, her sweet taste hitting his tongue as her delicious moans escape her to be taken into his lungs. She grinds her body against him and rolls his hips, letting himself distend, and growls at the sensation of her smooth skin against his highly sensitive length.

Jane pulls away from his mouth first, her breaths fast as she takes his hand on her hip and leads it to her center. He growls and rubs against her backside as he caresses her already hot and wet cunt. Her hand takes his wrist and she uses her grip to direct his speed and pressure and he finds her sensitive clit and circles the bundle of nerves.

She moans and it pulls a responding one from his throat as she throws her head back and jerks against him, his cock at her back and hand in front. He continues to work her as she shifts to place her hands against the tiled wall and presses her bottom into his hip in silent direction.

He takes a step back and sees her plan as she bends at the waist to give him a better angle. She drops a hand to pull him, though not without a bit of struggle, away from her clit and she presses her ass against him, needy and unable to speak.

He growls and takes himself in hand, giving himself a hard stroke with her fluids on his hand mixing with his own. She moans and he looks up to see her watching him over her shoulder, her eyes wild and hungry, Interesting.

Knowing this isn't about playing each other or teasing for the rush, he takes her hip in one hand and guides himself into her folds, knowing the way by the radiating heat and memory alone. He places his tip just within her opening and drops his hand to his base, before pushing slowly into her. She bows her back and whimpers, his ridged underside hitting that little spot on her front, as her hands quiver on the wall.

He steps close to her, giving him a position to pull her more along his chest so he can use his hands along her body. He softly grinds into her as he cups her breasts and plays with her nipples with his finger pads and talons, occasionally using the hard edge of callus in a different sensation.

Jane throws her head against his shoulder and pushes back into him, trying to rush is slow pace, but he fights her, knowing she needs this his way more than hers. She needs to let go, let their bodies fall into synch, and forget, not rush to the end and miss the actual release.

With her neck open to him, he drops his head and lavishes it with nips, licks, and hot breath, his harmonics rumbling into her ear like he knows she likes. She tries harder to speed his pace, so he drops a hand to her belly, his palm enveloping the brand from her past, and holds her. She moans, a sound of have frustrated sob and pleasure, and presses her face to his.

He claims her mouth, invading her tongue with less force than they usually use during mating and using it to caress hers, softly stroking it in love and devotion, admiration and pride. He wants to show this woman in his arms just what strength he sees in her, his complete confidence that she will accomplish anything despite her fears.

She gasps a sob, her breath faltering in her body's little signs of coming close to that release, and he drops his hand from her belly to her clit, stoking it in time with his grinds. He can feel it too, that precipice into bliss that he always finds in her, that euphoria unlike any other, and he fights his body to hold out for her, to share this together.

She comes, not with a scream or yell, but with a high gasp that's like music to his ears and her clenching walls, so tight he was afraid she'd castrate him the first few times but have since become the exact opposite, pull him over with a low growl. He jerks, his body emptying into her to seep past the joining and down her legs, as he tries to pull out the last of their aftershocks.

When his hips finally slow to a stop, he hears a soft sound coming from Jane. He purrs in silent question and nuzzles to her neck and she lays a hand against his face. "Don't worry. I was just laughing."

"Laughing?"

"Weird, right?" She shifts a bit to give him a small, weak but genuine smile. "It feels good, though. Like I finally got everything off my chest. I couldn't do anything but laugh." She shrugs. "Probably the sex talking."

He hums in concern, knowing it's more than that. "You okay?"

She thinks a moment before smiling. "I think so. I may still need a bit of time before I want to go against a Maw again, but I'm pretty sure I won't freeze up." She twists her lips in thought. "I don't think I'd be ready yet to outrun it, but I think I can kill it."

Somehow, Garrus knows she's not just saying these things to make him feel better. He feels that she's right, that she won't have such a disastrous breakdown. If, by some horrible stroke of luck, she does, he will gladly be there to pull her back out.

"I think I understand, Jane," he purrs and strokes the back of a plated finger against her cheek. "Take these things at your own pace. I'll always be here, at your six and by your side."

She smiles and kisses him softly before they pull apart to clean their mess. Once cleaned, they go to their locker in the showers and grab their casuals, his from when he first got on the ship and laid them here, just in case, and hers from a little bag he assumed came from her bunk.

"I wish you could stay with me." Jane sighs once she's dressed and holds a brush to her hair. "It's so weird having to sleep without you even when you're so near. You're so close yet so far away."

He takes the brush from her hand and takes up the small routine they started in the months after their wedding, running his free hand through her strands as the brush picks apart the tangles. When he first offered to do it, she had scoffed and assured he'd be disgusted, but he insisted, threatening to do it whether she approved or not.

When she relented, he showed her that for him, brushing her hair was the exact opposite of disgusting. When he felt the silky strands fall between his fingers, it reminded him of the soft breaths only he was allowed to hear from her mouth, and when she closed her eyes and hummed, he couldn't help but respond in kind as his chest warmed up in delight. He was even trying to do those things she called 'braids' but he has yet to make them strong enough to survive her late night tossing and turning.

He didn't really feel the need to explain to her this caring for one's mate was a Turian male thing. He guessed she already knew by the way she would offer or press into him during his other subtle attempts to preen her. She had even surprised him a few times by challenging the regular custom and forcing him down to enjoy as she ran her fingers in his fringe or took his hands in her lap and cared for his talons. To imagine that a human woman would make him comfortable enough to sit back and be preened, despite his nature saying otherwise, made him smile even to this day, but, then again, Jane never ceases to amaze him.

Once Garrus has brushed the tangles from Jane's wet hair, he quickly puts it into a braid so it'd be out of her face while she slept like she likes. She chuckles at the rope along her back and gives him a soft kiss before caressing his forehead. "Good night, Garrus."

He cups her cheek and rumbles. "Good night, Jane."

Their masks fall into place and he leaves the showers before her, taking the elevator and feels his spirit fall with each passing meter of decent. 'So close yet so far away.' He could definitely agree with that.

~SquigglySquid says: Amora is a word I made up from the Latin word amor that means love. Amora best translates as 'my love and soul' and is best used as a endearment for bondmates. It's sometimes thought to be more than words, instead being a type of sensation. That idea is mostly dismissed now as romantic movie material, but the term still exists among some head-over-heels couples.

Garrus and Jane don't use endearments unless in joke as they feel they're too childish. Garrus has to train himself to tell Jane "I love you" as she can't hear his harmonics and because Turians aren't vocal in the usage of words for emotions. In desperation, though, Garrus didn't know what else to do than plead with her to come back.

I assume you can guess when they would ever use Amora, if ever.