She mended fences the best she could with Anderson and Hackett, speaking the lingo of 'no hard feelings.' This was business and no place for feelings. She charmed and flattered by evoking camaraderie of the past. Not too much, just enough to let them know she respected them and was properly in line with her priorities straight, no attention paid to personal slights. She needed the Alliance to at best support her, at worst stay out of her way. She could not afford the Alliance as an enemy. She would settle for the tacit "not at war" that she maintained with the Council.
Hackett agreed to put Mordin in touch with some of the researchers and provide some of the research they had been doing in trade for some of the information about the Collectors and seeker swarms. This was an opening move for trading the deterrent for seeker swarms for further access. She wanted to give it to them anyway, but she should play cautious and not give more away than she needed to in a transaction. If what she provided was actionable and the researchers felt they could use Mordin's input, Hackett agreed they could work together on those subjects, and that he would think of opportunities where they might work together in the future.
She was reasonably sure they knew more than the Alliance, but she wanted Mordin to get his eyes on it. She had faith in his insights. He would do wonders with the same information. Then they could possibly trade back his insights for further access.
Promising.
She stopped by to tell Mordin and also asked him for suggestions on neurotoxic agents that would work quickly on Drell and Turians. Thane had given her too many warnings and she would be a fool if she didn't have a fast delivery system to reverse any attempt at subversion. Mordin was very helpful. She settled on a method involving an ampule for Drell and an ampule for Turians, subdermally implanted with her Omni Tool, able to use attachments for injection or projectile
Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer. Thane was not an enemy to her, but he might be to her goal. His goal was her continued survival, and she came across threats to that too often to not prepare. She needed Thane's perspective and wouldn't leave him behind, but in a strategic sense she needed to assume a distinct obedience gap that was situational and somewhat predictable. If her life was in more danger than usual, that's when she needed to be wary of revolt. Thane's new freedoms and willingness to find his own way were encouraging on a personal level and even a command level, considering it had saved her in the past. She could hope to maintain that tense balance of risk versus reward. She knew the risks were to be prevented, not provoked, respected and not taunted.
With Thane down she could likely talk Garrus out of anything, but she wasn't taking chances. They followed orders after offering their alternatives or they became undignified heaps. This fit with her command style. Thane wouldn't see it coming because she always backed down against his warnings and threats, to make him feel more comfortable with making them. Yes, I would like to know. Please tell me. Garrus would see it coming. There had been an incident with Wrex with Garrus present.
She was fairly easygoing out of battle, willing to take flak from people and even insubordination. It was better that she knew where people stood. In battle was a different story. Wrex had been independent for too long, had little respect for humans and his assimilation onto the Normandy had not been seamless. She had determined that he had the mindset of a dog and he needed an Alpha or he assumed he was the Alpha. Her easygoing style only caused him to push harder. Garrus had been out with them when Wrex had come up with his own idea about bypassing an ambush ahead. She'd disagreed and repeated her order for her assault. He'd repeated his objection. When she'd asked him if he was willing to follow orders he'd balked, called it a stupid fucking plan that a pyjak would know better to follow. A full-size, experienced and angry Krogan mercenary was a challenge, but he'd given her enough warning that she had prepared. She had temporarily blinded him with the equivalent of pepper spray to his eyes, used his own shotgun to knock him down, taking care to make it painful, and had restrained him before he'd recovered.
She had nudged with him a boot and said "Garrus is heading forward with me to execute my plan. You are staying here. Think about it. We'll be back in a few minutes, fairly pissed off that we didn't have the help you'd promised, and I'll give you a choice. You can stay here or you can follow my fucking orders from this day forward. If you're awfully nice I might loosen the restraints and not sabotage all the shuttles."
Wrex had started to laugh and then said "Hey, Shepard…tell me something."
She had said tersely "What?"
He had asked "Is my shotgun okay? She didn't deserve that. I did, but she didn't."
She had answered "She's fine. I wouldn't hurt her. She's more valuable than you. Get your head on straight. We'll be back, and if we aren't, and there are a shitload of Batarians that find you, keep in mind it was your fault."
He had snorted and said "You'll be back."
She was back. He still questioned the occasional order, but never twice. That's all she cared about.
Garrus had not spoken a word during the exchange, but he knew she was capable of putting down revolt without warning. She was more concerned that Garrus was tiremit hypnotized and with a few key words he'd have no choice. She wanted to give him choices. She could hope that Garrus wouldn't tell Thane the story, or that Thane wouldn't believe she would do the same to him.
She didn't truly believe that Thane would plan, exactly, to do this, but under stress or pressure in the moment he might make his own lightning calculations and execute them. She needed to know Thane's calculations even if she couldn't always follow them. Maybe he'd be right. She'd count on his willingness to tell her first, give a sign of rebellion in warning. He would explain softly, reasonably, call her Siha, defer to her until he had no choice. He would not expect a dart to the neck, and it would only work once. She was only the Alpha if she could keep control of the pack, and that required creativity and planning. He was worth the risk.
Command would be interesting after that point. Unlike Wrex, he would not back down. He would appear to back down, and would likely genuinely appreciate her move, but he'd harden his approach and adapt for the next time. It would be the last time she got any warning.
Look on the bright side. In this extreme scenario it's entirely possible she'd be dead if she went against his advice, lost both Thane and Garrus and went forward alone.
Chances she had to take.
She smiled as she heard his words "The life of a Spectre is full of difficult choices."
Following one isn't that much easier.
Her pride in her team wasn't diminished through having to figure out how to disable each and every one of them in an emergency. It was strengthened. She had to outwit enemies and properly estimate allies. Anybody could be pushed to insubordination in the right circumstances. It was all part of the job.
She headed back to the cabin to get some more work done. She sent a message to Liara and asked her for everything she knew about the Hanar Compact. They were nearing Palaven and tomorrow would dock. She was swamped with security and authorization requests both ways, Turians wanting to tour the Normandy, Normandy crew wanting to visit Palaven, authorizing Mordin's visit with Amalis Kemi. With Garrus's help she was able to navigate. She'd been on the comm with him about 10 times today to interrupt whatever he was doing and ask his advice. She called him again and asked him about whether or not she should authorize yet another request for a tour, balancing potential influence benefit against security risk. She promised she was taking a break. Garrus said he was coming up and had cut off the comm before she'd been able to reassure him that she could manage for the next 30 minutes without his advice. She'd tackle something other than Turian red tape.
When he got there, he looked…scared. Exhilarated and scared. Palaven was his home, one he hadn't seen since before she'd met him. This was his family and a culture he'd left behind, now gathering them back up into his strong, wide embrace. Since involving Palaven in her calculations he'd become more outspoken, more vulnerable, more hopeful. It was a beautiful thing to see hope suffuse his expressions and voice, but he was also more terrified, more invested, more immediate. He was still calm and steady in mixed company that involved anybody but her and Thane. He had the same humor and self deprecation. His game face. Privately he was more unpredictable, anger and enthusiasm and slammed hands on desks or bodies or…
He wasn't different so much as…more.
She liked it.
He was right. He hadn't discovered anything she didn't like yet.
He looked at her, stopped in his tracks, took a step, stopped, opened his mouth, closed his mouth. She wished she could understand what his mandibles were doing, but it looked like agitation. Spread wide, tremble, pull tight, stop as though he noticed. Forget and start over. He seemed to veer away from whatever it was he was going to say and said something else instead. He said "Tali's been talking to me about the renovations to the quarters and galley. We can get a lot of it done on Palaven since we're staying for multiple days. If you're okay with it we can go ahead and authorize a lot of work. We can have enough monitoring to make sure nothing other than bunks get put in. I trust that the Hierarchy wouldn't try it on their own, but I won't assume there aren't other agents. We won't be stupid about it. We'll check every component. People could have decent housing and food before we hit the relay."
That got a huge smile from her and she stopped worrying about whatever it is he was going to say. He'd get to or it or he wouldn't. She said "That's incredible news, Garrus. They should throw a party for you."
His mandibles did the thing again, starting at the word 'party.' She said "Something on your mind?"
He shot his hands out in a helpless, violent gesture "Ah, I suck at this." He said in explanation with his hands warding off concern "It's not bad. Mostly. It's…" He stared off into a corner, face arrested on trying to find words.
She had no idea how to reassure or guide him, so she just waited for him to sort through it all in his time. If he was worried about something, she was worried about something.
He said slowly, stringing some thoughts together "I told you that my father wanted an official visit and an unofficial visit. So does my mother. I can't tell her no. She's…well, even losing bits of her mind she's going to get her way. She's got her mind set on…not that I want to tell her no but…she's my Avah and…"
She blinked in confusion. She said "Take…any of those statements and give me context?"
He sighed and continued "Bottom line, she wants to meet you. Not just meet you…show you off. Show me off. Show us off. She wants a dinner and…a dance. She has requested that I convince you…to ask me to dance. Now it might sound like she just wants to give my father a heart attack, but she's…she's smart. She wishes to open the Vakarian Madlis to you, have a dinner in your honor, and…augh…I've mangled it."
She said softly "Never mind that it insults every other Turian there?"
He laughed and said "Well, yes and no. Whatever the outside attitudes are, anybody under the Madlis roof will follow her lead regarding her son. You won't be treated with disrespect in a diplomatic setting. Plus, it's you. You would tend to be treated with respect anyway. You don't understand the influence she has."
She coughed lightly and said "I think I'm starting to see it. You're spinning in a gravity well from several light years away."
He started to laugh and said "Turian culture is…well…when your mother asks you…"
She continued "To ask your commanding officer and lover…"
He met her eyes and said "To ask you to dance …"
She finished and said "You do it."
He nodded and said "You do it. She has determined, she says from the way I look when I talk about you, that I am in love with you. When she asked if you shared my feelings and I told her yes, she decided that she wants me to have the right to declare it publically. She has made it possible, something I couldn't do."
She asked softly "Do you want me to do this or do you want me to be the human bad guy so you can explain to your mother that I was too dense to understand?"
He said quietly "I would have liked to have thought it out more clearly before I asked. I've tried, but it's…there's no way to explain this in human terms. It isn't match making. It's permission to be matched, personally and professionally. My mother has an extraordinary heart. It may be uncomfortable, it may be politically touchy…but it could also make a real difference, set an example that badly needs to be set. It's hard to communicate to you that I'm asking for her, but she is asking for me, and for her people, that we are both asking for the political and social example, AND…I'm asking for me, though I couldn't ask it for myself and the audacity of it staggers me. But you are good at audacity."
She saw more clearly the layers, the depth, the context of what he had given up to follow her. She said "I can see where you got your extraordinary heart. It might be amazing."
He smiled in relief and said "Yes. It might be amazing. Perhaps for a human it would be…strange, or even humiliating, for me to beg your permission to carry out my mother's wish, but I do…want to dance with you, Kerim. To be given such a gift from my mother, to have such a gift from you, it would be…more than I can imagine becoming true. Even now. I don't have the words. Obviously."
She said with a smile "If it's what you want, then it's what I want. Teach me what to do and the steps, and I'll try to make her proud."
He closed the distance between them and held her face between his hands, tilted his head and looked at her and then kissed her, gentle and reverent. He tilted his crest to her forehead and said in a soft voice warming over with the force of the emotion felt in his flanging tone "Thank you. You will be welcome in the Madlis for your lifetime, Kerim. To many, many Turians you are a hero. You saved the lives of everyone on the Citadel. Everyone who works at C-Sec knows it. My father knows it. My clan knows it. It isn't a bonding, but it is an alliance and an honor, a public statement regarding my standing in the Clan and the Clan's standing on my chosen path. I have followed you and this legitimizes anything I have done under your command or as a result of your command, approving of your authority over my life's path. You have no clan of your own so she offers you Vakarian protection under her authority. She wants other Turians to see her smile as she watches us dance. Unbonded. From different species. Bound together still with a common goal and a common love, and deserving of support and respect. That can't be taken from you, can't be taken from me. Anyone who knows her will know it was her idea and I would not dare unless it was at her command. My paint will be redrawn and you will be seen as having the right to ask me to dance. I will accept no other invitation. It will be clear to everyone with a Turian heart, and I will try to make it clear to you, what it means."
She smiled against the press of his crest. She said "You should have opened with that. You have the words."
He started slightly, pulled back and said "Wait, I've got something…I had a lot of help." He walked back to the door and pulled in a big box and four progressively smaller boxes. He put them down on the desk and then looked at her and said "Do I open them or do you open them?"
She said "I have no idea. Does it mean anything to a Turian? You can open it to present it to me or I can open it to be surprised."
He said "Hmm…well, I would like to present them to you, but I'm slightly afraid of them." He opened the big box, and a wealth of silver-blue fabric the color of her eyes was revealed in the form of a gown. A breathtaking gown. She said slowly "I've changed my mind. You should have opened with this."
He said a little hesitantly "I didn't want to pressure you with a gift…"
She said emphatically "Garrus, if you ever have anything like this, don't make her wait in the hallway. Pressure me. She's beautiful. I haven't seen anything like her."
She lifted the dress from the box by the straps. She didn't have the names for the materials. The fabric was richer than satin, less uniform, bearing an organic, subtle pattern like watermarks deep in the weave. There were gems and a metal that was like silver but also had a blue tone. The straps were of the metal and gems. The stones were shadowed but translucent, with silver inclusions that revealed themselves and winked away like stars with movement and light. The bodice was sculpted neckline of overlapping half-moon shaped cups. The pattern came clearer. Stars, moon, night sky…Kerim. The dress was subtly suggestive of the Kerim, the angles and tailoring and edges the possible angles and curves of the moon in full or obscured shape. Panels of silver-blue fabric were edged with the gem-embedded metal where they met or fell away into separate pieces, framed with delicate filigree. At the waist on either side were full-moon shaped cutouts that wrapped around from the back to the front, the edge frosted with more of the metal and gems. It would bare part of her ribs, waist and upper hips, resembling the curves of the double eclipse, with her skin forming the shadows. The silver-blue panels widened and flared, each rimmed by metal and gems, and then below the hips the panels separated and fell to the hemline where they terminated in a curve, making the panels long teardrop shapes. The panels shifted moment to moment like a living thing as they slid over each other and settled. Below the hips there were also revealed panels underneath of the same sort of fabric, but in her skin tone.
Garrus said "They're called Yirla stones. Rarely seen off Palaven, but Thane…he knew a tailor on the Citadel…why I was surprised I don't know, but he chose the materials and created the pattern. If I'm right, the fabric is Asari and the metal is…from the Elcor home planet? I've forgotten their names, but he could tell you. I can't take any credit, but I appreciate the end result…living Kerim." He opened the other boxes, jewelry set in bright sinuous metal for her hair, earrings, a necklace, delicate steep-heeled shoes, and…she lifted a pair of barbaric looking twisted arm cuffs of silver-blue metal and Yirla stones. She said "He has…excellent taste."
Garrus smiled and said "He did insist. I am not qualified to argue with success. He insisted on my clothing as well. Vakarian blue, but with the same type of metal used in your gown and jewelry." He said thoughtfully "He knows Turian tailoring better than I do. I never paid attention."
She smiled and touched the hair jewelry, pins and twists and sprays in silver-blue and midnight spangle. She said "Thane has an idea for my hair?"
He said wryly "I think he's going to insist."
She set the gown carefully to hang, letting her out of that claustrophobic box and hoping to make friends. She said "I think I'm going to let him. He'll have to appreciate us before we go. He isn't setting foot out of this cabin while we're anywhere near Palaven. He has been left off all ship manifests."
Garrus nodded gravely "He has had dealings on Palaven, so I gather. He will stay out of sight."
She said with a smile "He's good at that. Garrus, thank you, this is…now I haven't words. Will you dance with me before your Avah, before your clan, with Thane's assurances that he has placed us in the perfect settings to shine?"
He held out his hand to her and pulled her closer, his arm around her waist and said "If you would honor me, I would consider myself blessed."
She looked up into sincere blue depths set in the scarred face and scratched paint, imagined it redone and his pride reborn whole. She said lightly "One rule. You can't tear that dress off me. I won't allow it."
He looked mock disappointed "What? You're going to wear it again somewhere? No, I don't think so. Once in a lifetime opportunity."
She shook her head "No. Princess dress. Princess says no."
He scoffed "Hardly for a princess. For a queen."
She considered and said "Then the queen says no."
His brow plate raised and said "All right. If only because I'm still afraid of it and I think Thane would kill me."
She said in a part scold "Wait, so if I'd said no you just would have taken that dress and left?"
He chuckled and said "Thane convinced me you would say yes. I couldn't figure out how to ask, so that was the delay. He's started to threaten to tell you himself, but maybe he would have taken the dress back and asked you out to another evening and he'd be able to dance with you wearing it."
She whistled "Yikes. I understand the pressure."
He said lightly "You're not wearing it now though…"
She said "Finally the man gets the hint."
oOoOoOoOoOo
Dance lessons came soon after the promise of an evening out of family and politics. It was going to kill her only because she found it harder and harder to avoid licking her instructors. They were both excellent dancers and she was…not.
She watched as they demonstrated…again. Thane would dance her part and he was flawless. She asked "Thane, where did you learn Turian dancing?"
He said "I have reviewed the technique over the last week."
She closed her eyes and said "Damn it."
He said gravely "You will have to do it in heels."
She said "Double damn it and ow."
They were in the shuttle bay and there were spectators because now there were spectators any time Thane was in the bay. She glanced up and said "We might as well set up snack tables."
Thane said "Focus, Siha. We have little time."
She said "Can't we…dumb this down for the human?"
Garrus said "Come on. You can do it. It's already…well, it's already dumbed down, much more and it would be moron territory."
She started to laugh and couldn't stop. She said "Stunt Shepard? Too late to hire one?"
Thane ignored her, took her hand and steered her again in front of Garrus. Before he positioned her at all he started picking on the way she was standing, insisting on shoulders straight, stomach in, tapping and adjusting, then he started to move her hands and feet into the right position. She said with frustration "Can't I just…move my feet?"
Garrus actively scoffed and Thane said "You slouch and forget to breathe. Stand with dignity, Siha, and look less as though you are about to hit your partner."
She said "Even if I really want to hit someone?"
Thane said smoothly "Especially then. Spine graceful, not aggressive. Hold your own space and balance, do not lean into him." He shook her hand out by the wrist and positioned it with care on Garrus's shoulder. "Hands like a falling leaf, not a club used to bludgeon."
She sighed and said "I have no idea what you're talking about. It's a hand."
Thane said "Siha, your body must be poetry, not prose. Listen. Watch. Just as in battle, you cannot simply be aware of one thing. You must be aware of your weapon, your body, your positioning and your target simultaneously. Garrus is your target and your eyes must be on him as you assure your positioning. Your body is your breath and your flow from step to step. Just as you must lead with a rifle, you must learn to lead with your body, anticipate the next beat. Feel how his hands move on you and the way his body turns, you will know where you need to go, he will tell you."
That made a little more sense, but she said "Nothing about falling leaves in shooting someone."
Garrus said "Think about how your hand has to rest carefully on a trigger when taking a sight, relaxed. Think of how you have to breathe slowly or you screw up your aim."
She acknowledged "Okay. You're obnoxiously good at this."
Garrus said gravely with light sarcasm "I'm so sorry, Kerim, that I won't trip over you. You'll have to manage. There's only so much I can do to cover for you."
She said hopefully "Can't we just turn this into a 'pick her up and carry her' dance?"
Thane said wryly "We might have to."
Shepard said "Can you convince your mother I have some sort of hip injury?"
Garrus said "Stop stalling. Try it again. This time remember what we've told you. You have to carry your entire body a certain way, you can't look at your feet, and you can't look at me as though you're waiting to strangle me when it's over."
Thane leaned in to speak in her ear and as he moved her body, adjusted the pace of her breath with his hands he said "Much can be accomplished with confidence, Jane. Forget that the dance is new to you. Know you will prevail. This is your dance. It belongs to you and what you do with it will be right. You have gained Garrus's loyalty and love, and his mother wishes to give you the opportunity to show it. You are Commander Shepard and you choose this man. Nothing will go wrong while you are in his arms. Trust where he will take you. Breathe as though your shoulders are buoyed by the air you draw, your spine suspended from the heavens, your feet barely on the ground, as though you floated above. Look at him as he looks at you. Smile at him as though you were the only two in the room. Everyone knows you can kill, Siha. We wish them to see that you know his body, his mind, his heart, and you belong in his arms. Touch him as you would when he reaches for you in the night, wakes you with his mouth and voice, and your hands glide over his plates in the dark. Give him the gift of your desire and attention. Do not allow the audience to intrude. Hold your head high and proud. Give them the haughty and cool Kerim that has reached down from the skies and chosen her Turian."
Thane stepped back, having set the position of her body with precision and the set of her mind until she had to focus on breathing because it was going to come shorter at the images. Garrus's eyes met hers with grave, warm focus, lending her his confidence. She concentrated on what they'd taught her, that she shouldn't allow her inexperience to dictate the outcome. She was entering diplomacy and public attempts to gain support. To imagine herself unqualified or disqualified would make that true. It was a dance, but it was also a relationship she'd built, one she was proud to have. It was a relationship she wished to build with the audience, that she loved and was loved and could reach beyond expectations of a human, that they could find Turian imagery and hope in human form. It was all a battle, and a battle she could win. A battle she had to win, but she had to win it with falling leaves and not guns.
The theater of it made her acutely uncomfortable, contrary to her insistence on being a private person. That was her greatest obstacle and she had to set it aside. She had always resented and defied cameras and now she would have to court them. This was a choreographed moment and Garrus needed it, she needed it, and she had to prove she could wear the dress, wear the reputation, and not be worn by it.
Her next pass over the floor was better, the expression on her face as Thane had requested, the warmth from Garrus's eyes loosening her muscles and taking the stiffness from her joints. She became more aware of her balance, his cues, forgot a few steps, but didn't wince or make a face when she failed a step, focused on trying to make it appear that she had intended to do as she'd done.
This was a familiar feeling, and they were right, she could do it.
It felt…really good. She needed to embrace her inner exhibitionist diva more often.
The music stopped and Garrus smiled at her, the formal warmth on his face blooming into heat and approval. She said slowly "I could…get used to this."
Thane stepped behind her and said "Indeed you could. Do so. Then we add the heels."
oOoOoOoOoOo
Once they got to Palaven her running-around work stopped. Garrus was the one down on the planet setting everything up and she wasn't going to go until he was sure it was safe and she would not meet with disrespect.
Tali was going to coordinate the revamp and she wasn't going to get in the way.
Other people were doing most of the touring and escorting, trying to limit access to her so that she gave the image of being busy and unavailable. She was always available to her crew and she would prefer to greet guests as a hostess, but Thane advised that she make herself a scarce commodity. They should want her attention and it should be bought, not given freely. Garrus had agreed that Turian politics worked that way, that her openness and welcome could be perceived as weakness or insult. To present herself as an easygoing human to a status-conscious culture could be considered a rebuke of Turian manners, as though she would expect Turian captains to wait on her pleasure if she stepped on board their ships. She could go to the CIC and the cabin without the risk of running into someone unexpectedly and being possibly waylaid or fucking up a schedule. She and Thane had brought up a lot of food. Thane had a reprieve from the tyranny of the Med Bay because he couldn't be seen there.
She was dutifully busy and unavailable, combing through all the reports. It was much more casual, less frenetic, with more time to consider, less nervous energy making her jump up and talk to someone in person. Deeper, more measured thoughts. Time to shift from subject to subject to spell herself and give thoughts time to form and expand. Time to absorb without need for immediate action.
Thane kept his own schedule, able to do a workout in the small space, altered versions of what she'd seen in the bay. She focused on not being distracted. It didn't go terribly well. Between being taught dance and Pon-Ifa she was experiencing a lot of humility, but also a great deal of insight into the lives and minds of Garrus and Thane. Necessities of diplomacy and the subterfuge and images required were making her feel alternately uncomfortable in her own skin and as though she could take to it like breathing once the theory was explained properly. She had never had it explained to her as Garrus and Thane did, providing images and motivations and helping her find, very quickly, the tools she'd need, the attitude required to cultivate the sense of drama. She had spent so much time in her life trying to minimize drama that she was reluctant, but ultimately convinced. She was inclined to feel like a fraud, but Thane would detect any tell of self-doubt and self-criticism and like an acting coach, redirect her motivation.
It made her wonder how much of his success relied on fake it until you make it. No doubt he'd made it, but his ease with manufacturing any appearance and reading it in others was extraordinary.
She was going to make this bid for support and then she might not survive it for long, but she would leave a legacy. With her visit to Palaven she was now a current event. She still had no idea who "The Flock" were, but they were becoming more visible and so was she. News organizations were doing their own analysis, which resulted in more witness accounts of The Flock's broadcasts and her appearances, but there was no more content, just some chatter from people wanting to know what she knew about it, and both sides shrugging. Consensus was they were an organization that seemed to consider her to be a religious icon, deserving of support and obedience. That was kind of nice, considering she couldn't really get that on her own ship sometimes, but she wasn't expected to be divine.
Unless she was wearing a particular dress.
Or being beheld by a certain Drell.
Or a special Turian looked at her with adoration.
She was not complaining, exactly, but it was a lot to take on. They were slowly reversing the two-year influence of those who wanted her and her message buried. She was about to make a public and exclusive debut that didn't involve running through the Citadel or Illium shooting people.
She wasn't nervous to meet Garrus's family, exactly. Solona sounded charming and his mother sounded fascinating, and his father so remote and formal that it wasn't likely she'd have much interaction.
She'd also had it drummed into her that she could not afford nerves here any more here than she could if she were tracking down a group of Blue Suns. She needed to transfer that ability and quickly.
She wasn't used to being confined like this either. Yes, she spent a lot of time in her cabin, but it was usually interspersed with random trips to talk to people or check something. Now she had to make lists of things to check later. She started twirling the stylus between her fingers and lightly tapping her heel, stopping and then starting again.
Thane wasn't just distracting, he was riveting.
Carpe Drell.
Fuck not interrupting him. He can make it up later. She tossed the stylus and walked purposefully behind him, knowing she couldn't surprise him. She ran her fingertips over his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck. He stilled, his head tilted slightly. She said "Have I thanked you for the beautiful dress?"
He nodded and said "Indeed you have, repeatedly. And no again, you may not reimburse me for it."
She said "I know, I know. I can't afford it. Have I thanked you for teaching me how to dance?"
He answered "That as well. Often. Eventually."
She kissed a few times down his spine and said "Have I thanked you for teaching me how to play Pon-Ifa?"
He nodded and said "Yes. You appear to be a thankful person."
Her arms slipped over the muscles of his back and her hands moved around his waist to clasp, leaning her cheek against his back. She said "Good, then I can move on to objectifying you. I am sorry you won't be able to travel to Palaven. I'm sorry I won't be able to dance with you. I'm sorry you won't be able to dance with Garrus. Would you dance with me, someday, in less…incendiary surroundings? If we can."
He said softly "I believe you are missing the point of objectifying me if you are feeling empathetic."
She said with a smile "Shut up. I'm new to this. Answer the question."
His hands came to rest on hers and he said "Which is it, Jane, shut up or answer the question?"
She squeezed, hard, and said "Answer the question."
He turned in her embrace, smiled and said "No."
While she was sorting through that he kissed a line along her collarbone and said "I find it impossible to consider a situation that isn't incendiary if you are in my arms, so I shall have to defer."
Her head tilted back and she said "Oh, flatterer."
He shook his head and kissed her throat, said sternly "I do not flatter."
She snorted and said "Flatterer and liar."
He continued to kiss along the line of her other collarbone.
She said "All right then. Will you dance with me, then when it becomes too incendiary, carry me off the floor and objectify the hell out of me?"
His voice was stern with a slight frost of teasing "Perhaps. If you conduct yourself well. I cannot have an inferior partner."
It made her smile again, and there was no way she'd ever qualify to dance with this man, it would always be charity…and love. One more way she couldn't afford him. She said "I'll…" and was interrupted by a bite to her shoulder, she finished with a gasp and "try…"
He had her flat on the floor in a few seconds, his hand cradling the back of her head to keep it from hitting too hard, she wasn't really sure how she got there. Too fast.
Carpe human.
He was straddling her, looking down at her, pulling her shirt from her waistband and sliding fingertips along the muscles of her stomach. He said "I will be there…Jane…"
Not Siha. Decidedly not Siha, human and fallible Jane, clear in the tone of his voice.
His hands slid along her waist, up to her breasts, his fingers trailing venom. He said "You will be dressed in the clothing of my imagination, the idea from Garrus, both dressed as I envisioned."
Her back arched as his mouth closed over a nipple, and then he murmured "I may as well have had my venom infused in the fabric. When the dress brushes against your skin, Jane, think of me. I will be there, between you, with you, my hands having shown you the dance. You will not fail me."
It was part faith and part demand. Just one more time for the record she admired the control he had over his voice, impossible to mistake him when he said many things with few words.
He shifted until he was grinding against her, moving her hands and body until she was shoved back, hands hitting a wall, bracing there to push back against him. Quick practiced jerks on loose clothing from his hands and he was skin to skin, his chest rubbing against her breasts, his hand parting her thighs wider, palm on her clit and fingers sliding inside, twisting. His mouth was at her ear "Before you go…Jane…my hands will be in your lovely hair, my kiss at the nape of your neck, my fingers on your waist. I'll be in your blood. I'll be in his blood, venom from my hands at the side of his throat."
His fingers curled inside her and he pressed down harder with his palm and her head tilted back with a cry, hands tense on the wall, pushing back against his hand.
He said soft, dark in her ear "Try not to think about that while you are on his arm, that I'm in your blood and you want to get back to me. You'll want to come back to me and so will he. The longer you are gone the more you will feel it. Do not be distracted. Do not to let it show in your eyes, Jane, that you are imagining how you feel when we are together, the sounds Garrus makes, the way you moan against my mouth."
He was going to make the whole affair…so much harder…and so much better…oh Spirits…save me but not yet…
Venom was rushing through her system, sudden and violent clamor, the tone set from the way he spoke, the way he moved. Her arms were getting weaker, her breath came harder. He moved to kiss her and pulled those imagined moans from her with his hand and voice. Only a moment after she came with a harsh throbbing lift of her body he drove his cock inside, pulled her knee to her chest with his elbow hooked under said "Promise me something, Jane."
She had not much left but whimpers, and he smoothed her hair back from her face, drove in hard until she lost her air and he said "Come home to me and I will take the night sky from your hair, I will strip the dress from your body."
She nodded, couldn't form the word, and he acknowledged her answer with a growl, hard and deep thrusts against the floor, the wall, his mouth on hers and ravaging, endless demand until she was hoarse, mindless, her arms unable to hold, elbows collapsed and trembling. He pressed her against the wall himself, hands locked in hers, his full weight bearing down and in until the edges of her vision blurred and blackened.
He joined her where words were lost and stories and provocation were gone. He would never, ever dance with her in a crowded room with cameras, make any statement that way. He would never dance with Garrus. He would always be confined to the shadows, a place he chose and where he could work his magic, but now it bit deep in his inability to share hard-won moments in the light. Her hands tightened on his and her eyes opened to watch him unravel, pleasure and the shadow of desperation on his face, in his hands, in the possessive drive of his body.
She whispered with what was left of her broken voice "My home is where you are."
He heard her, and his heart broke and his face lost desperation and gained the fervor to stay in her body, stay in her blood, bring her home to him, make her want him with every breath.
Already done. It's already done.
Her limbs were bound but one, and she curled her leg around his waist, arched into his body to press as much skin to skin as she could, twisting her hips to meet him, feeling the shaking wrack through him. She made little broken whimpers of encouragement, welcome, smoothed her calf over his skin, gave what couldn't be taken.
He came with the sudden and blinding near loss of her vision again, but she'd seen all she needed to see. He said her name with no message, no demand and no subterfuge, just his plain and beseeching voice.
He kissed her lingeringly, lifted her from the floor with trembling arms and carried her to the bed, with her on his lap, his lips in her hair, a blanket swirled around them to keep in their warmth. They were silent, slowing heart beats and breath and home.