Chapter 9
Councillor Tevos doesn't trust Shepard's sudden eagerness to be about the business of the victory tour.
"Surely, Commander, you want to rest up properly first?"
"I've been on bedrest for weeks, Councillor," Shepard says reasonably. "I'd like to have something to do, at least."
"We'll see what we can do, Commander," Tevos says and logs off.
Shepard sits back from her console, rubbing the back of her neck. Everything still aches, and the stress of wanting to be about it isn't helping. Suddenly long, strong fingers push hers away and she sighs as Garrus works her neck muscles ruthlessly. Her head falls forward, then she lets her entire body go limp, pillowing her head on her arms to allow him full access to her back. He'd apparently been studying more than the tango while she'd been on Earth.
"Mmmm. Where did you learn to do that?"
He leans over to speak in her ear, digging his knuckles into her lower back, dead centre on a knot she hasn't been able to get rid of for hours.
"It's amazing what the asari can teach you, given the right incentive," he murmurs, his voice sending shivers up and down her spine.
"Mmmm," is all that she can manage, and he laughs softly.
She squeaks as he swings her chair around and picks her up effortlessly.
"Garrus!"
"Shh." He says, and a moment later, dumps her on the wide bed in her room. He strips off her baggy t-shirt with ruthless efficiency and she's left staring at him, half-clothed. Her throat tightens and she looks down, suddenly shy.
"I've heard some men have a weakness for women with scars," she says quietly. "Mind you, most of those men are…"
"Krogan," he completes, lifting his gaze from the latticework of scars that crisscross her torso.
She blushes, and his hands are gentle as he arranges her face-down on the bed.
"Garrus, what on Earth are you doing?" she asks.
"You, Commander, are getting a massage. You're much too tense."
"I have too much to do," she protests.
"You don't have anything to do. You can't have the Normandy for three more weeks, Ashley is out getting weapons from Spectre requisitions and Tali is doing some mysterious hacking thing she says is going to help. All you need to do now is relax."
To be honest, it's hard not to. Garrus' skin is rough, but the oil he's dug up from god-knows-where is soft as silk. The contrast is hypnotic. She feels like a cat that's being petted, melting under his hands as he works them up and down her body.
"Mmm. I may keep you around just for this."
He chuckles and leans over to kiss the back of her neck.
"Just try getting rid of me."
Shepard is just about unconscious from pure luxurious relaxation when the door slides open. She doesn't have the energy to turn her head, but she doesn't need to, to recognize Traynor's embarrassed squeak.
"Oh, God, Commander, I'm so sorry, I just…there's"
"Spit it out, Traynor," Garrus says, still working Shepard's muscles into goo.
"There are some people here to see the Commander."
Shepard mumbles something. Even she doesn't know what it's supposed to be, but she can't summon the energy to care.
"Send them away, the commander is indisposed at present," he says. She smiles to herself. Such a useful man.
"I can't, it's…"
"Kylara? What is going ion/i here?"
Oh.
Shit.
Shepard raises her head and pastes a bright smile on her face.
"Hi, Mom."