Well, here's chapter 10. It's really long, longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoy more Shepard and Thane. As always, if you enjoy my story, please leave a review. Getting a review is like opening presents on Christmas morning.

~~o.O.o~~

Well hell. It wasn't the booze.

She was supposed to be resting. Hell, she'd rested enough when she was dead. It made her think of an old sign that had hung in the dive diner she'd usually eaten in back on earth. "Drink More Coffee. You can sleep when you're dead." Amen to that. Besides, there was too much to do to spend the day in bed. Unless there's a certain hot… Oh give it a rest! Shit…

After a day of catching up on reports, overseeing the restocking of the ship's supplies since they were in port, and catching up on general crap, she'd finally decided to visit Thane in Life Support. Before she retired for the night. Before Jack Daniels came to visit. Before the migraine, that had started when Miranda came to see her about Jack, threatened to split her skull open, or cause her to gouge her eye out.

She really did need to talk to him, strictly professionally of course. She hadn't talked to him about his illness the night before. Avoiding the subject? Too involved already, maybe? Push it way down inside and pretend you don't care… As the commander of this mission, she needed to know if there was anything that could compromise their success, that's all that mattered.

The mission. Sure. That's your only reason for checking on him. Not because you're concerned on a personal level. Not because you haven't been able to get him out of your head since you met him.

If she could have strangled her own conscious, she would have. She was scowling by the time she entered Life Support, and it wasn't all from the headache that grew with each heartbeat.

Life support had not been designed as living space. It was small and cramped. Pipes ran along the ceiling and supplies and equipment lined the walls. A small bed had been brought in and placed against a wall. Close beside it was a small table with two chairs. That's where she found Thane, sitting at the table looking out the room's only window. Beyond the window the ship's drive core glowed a familiar blue. Sitting with his back to her, hands wrapped around a mug, he seemed lost in thought when she entered. Only when she neared the table did he turn and look at her.

"Is there something you wished to discuss?" he asked softy, the throaty quality of his voice still able to send little shivers up and down her spine. Her hair… Today it was up, pulled severely into a tight coil at the back of her head. Not the halo of gold that had made him think of a picture he'd seen of human angles…

Coming to stand slightly behind she said, "In the tower, you mentioned that you weren't concerned that this was a suicide mission, that you were dying." She needed, no she had to be Commander Shepard, hard ass, straight to the point. She was in charge and there wasn't room for sentimentality. Maybe if she'd been someone else, maybe in another life time she could have afforded a small measure of something resembling compassion…

Thane stared at the Commander. That's who was here, now, Commander Shepard, not the woman who'd withered and moaned beneath him on the Citadel, not the woman who'd caused him to lose control of himself just the night before. No, this was the woman who had saved the galaxy from a geth invasion, the woman who had defeated a Reaper, the woman who was planning on going through the Omega-4 Relay. She turned and walked over to lean up against wall beside the window that looked out over the drive core, facing him.

"Yes, I thought you'd want to know more. You don't have to worry about the rest of the crew. My illness is not communicable, even to other drell. It's called Kepral's Syndrome." He returned to looking out over the drive core. This was the first time he'd spoken to anyone about his illness, outside the specialist on the Citadel and the ship's doctor. To be talking to her about it though… She'd already made him feel things, things he had not business feeling or even thinking about. He was a dead man, only his body struggled from one day to the next.

Damn straight I want to know more. You've been inside me, you're there now, in my head, in my dreams… "What exactly is the problem?" She rubbed at the back of her head, where the migraine flashed through her skull from her eye.

"My people were native to an arid world. Most of us now live on the hanar home world, Kahje. It's very humid and rains every day. Our lungs can't deal with the moisture. Over time the tissue looses the ability to absorb oxygen. It becomes harder to breathe. Eventually we suffocate." The specialist on the Citadel had warned him to stay away from moist environments. One lung was already compromised and the disease was spreading.

Suffocating… The memory sprang unbidden into her mind. She fought the memories of helplessness, of lungs burning from lack of air, suffocating, no shields, the cold emptiness of space…

"Can't they do something about that?" She knew before she asked what the answer would be. That's why she didn't, no couldn't, let people inside.

"The hanar have funded a genetic engineering program. They should be able to adapt us. The project has only been running for a few years. I don't believe my body will still draw breath by the time it bears fruit." She had turned and was looking out the window onto the drive core. Her face reflected in the glass was drawn, pain evident in the way her eyes were squinting, the plump lips he remembered sucking into his own mouth, pressed into a thin line. Not for the first time since she'd arrived in his quarters, he watched her reach up and pressed the heel of her hand against her eye.

The pounding in her skull increased. It's not your problem. Not unless it affects the mission. "Then don't live on Kahje, or use breathers."

"Drell have a close relationship with the hanar. We rely on each other. The best we can do is keep our homes very dry inside." Few understood the drell debt to the hanar. And fewer still understood his own special relationship with them. He wondered how she'd react if he told her he'd been studying as an assassin since the age of six…

"Are you going to be alright until the end of the mission?" She massaged her right temple as the migraine took up permanent residence behind her eye. Just great. Just fucking great.

"I should be fine for another eight to twelve months. The more time I spend in humid environments, the faster it progresses. I think it's safe to say that by the time my body is incapacitated we'll be victorious… or dead. Either way, I won't be a burden to you." That's one reason he'd taken the hit on Nassana. He didn't want to die in some hospital or hospice, alone, with nothing but his memories. Sure, he had perfect, wonderful memories of his wife and son and their life before he'd returned to the only job he'd ever know. They didn't keep him from knowing without a doubt that he'd utterly failed them both, that his life had become such a shithole he'd begun to welcome death if only to escape his own conscience.

"Is there anything we can do here? The Normandy has a state of the art medical bay." And, they had Mordin. The Salarian was a genius. Just maybe…

"No, thank you. It's being attended to. If the finest medical minds in the hanar Illuminated Primacy can't solve the problem, I doubt your ship's medic could. Thank you for your concern. Trust me, this won't affect my performance." He was committed to this, fighting the collectors, helping rid the galaxy of evil. He had a purpose now, some way to atone for the sins of a lifetime before his body returned to the sea.

"Doctor Chakwas is very knowledgeable about many species and conditions. She forwarded the results of your medical exam to me this morning. Said you're fit for duty. However, considering what you've just told me, I would like you to see Professor Mordin. He's over in the research lab. Mordin's the doctor who cured the plague that was threatening everyone on Omega recently." The migraine was finally getting the best of her and she slowly pushed away from the wall, intending to head up to her quarters.

He stood as she began to walk toward the door. "I will visit the professor tomorrow if the gods allow me to return from our mission." She stopped for a moment and again pressed the heel of her hand again against her eye.

"Be ready at 0800. I'm taking you and Garrus into Nos Atra to find the asari. Meet us in the communications center for a quick briefing." She opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her.

"Commander… about last night…" What could he say? He'd allowed himself to lose control. Maybe he could blame it on the alcohol, the events of the day, whatever… but regardless, he'd lost it for a moment. He needed to let her know it wouldn't happen again. That…

Shepard was in pain, he realized, severe pain, barely able to stand on her feet. Headache, and a bad one, from way she'd been rubbing her neck and pressing against her eyes. He'd had really bad headaches when he'd first been treated for the Kepral's Syndrome. The meds especially had triggered severe migraines that made him want to claw his own eye out. Hell…

"Come on Commander," he said, taking her by the shoulders and leading her to the chair at the table he'd been sitting in. Through the thin material of her shirt her skin's warmth curled into his palms and refused to leave, curled around his senses and took residence in his mind…

"What are you doing Krios?" she asked defensively, wanting to pull away but not having the strength.

"You look like you're going to nose dive face first into the floor any minute now," he replied, seemingly unconcerned with her apparent irritation. After she was seated he asked, "Should I call Dr. Chakwas?"

"No." She pressed her hands on either side of her temple and pressed inward. "Just let me sit here for a moment and then I'll head up," she finally replied. If her head didn't hurt so badly, she might have better appreciated the strong hands that had held her shoulders, might have better appreciated the intoxicating smell of leather and spice that reminded her of a night of sin and sharing…

"What are you doing?" she asked when the clasp that kept her hair up was removed. Long alien fingers sifted through the golden strands and began moving strong and sure over her scalp. She should stop it, had told herself she wouldn't let her guard down again… A low moan escaped her lips as the assassin standing behind her massaged her scalp, gently rotating her head from side to side, front to back, all the while his lithe fingers applying pressure in just the right places… Her head leaning back against a firm stomach as he leaned against her, fingers that had caressed the most intimate parts of her moving in circles over her temples. She let herself concentrate on only those sensations, drowning in his touch, in him.

Involuntarily her hands came up to clutch at his arms, sliding up to rock hard biceps. Eyes closed, she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper as the pain in her head slowly receded. Gently removing her hands from his arms, he slowly pushed her forward, arms crossed on the table to support her head. He bent her head forward and concentrated the pressure of his thumbs at the base of her neck. Firm, smooth strokes up either side of her spine, fingers pressing and stroking.

What in the hell was wrong with her? She'd said she wasn't going to do this again, wasn't going to let herself feel, wasn't going to let herself want. You'd think she'd have learned her lesson by now, especially after Kaiden.

But there was something about Thane. It could have been the mind blowing sex they'd had. It could have been that fatalistic flaw she had of being attracted to bad boys. Maybe it was the kindred soul she sensed when she was with him, like he knew what it was like to be so all alone, not by choice but forced on him by choices and events beyond his control… And then maybe it was the strange sense of calm and security she had around him, a peace that was baffling in the way it wrapped itself around her being. Whatever it was, it was strange, wonderful, amazing… and it scared the holy shit out of her.

The throbbing in her head was receding now, and it took everything she had not to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. Maybe she could close them just for a moment, just a few seconds, just…

What the hell was he thinking? He'd meditated, prayed, sworn up and down to abstain from alcohol… Yeah, like it's the alcohol that makes you burn to touch her. You can't be drawn to her, a human, for any other reason. It's not because you just think of her and you're back in that penthouse suite balls deep inside her warmth, or curled together with her warm breath on your neck, feeling more content than you have a right to… It's not that you're drawn to her because she'd everything you're not. She's a warrior who puts herself between evil and the innocent. She's a soldier who kills in the name of justice, not a paycheck. She's a human, and yet she's fighting to save all species of the galaxy from the coming menace.

You have no right to feel... this… whatever it is. No. Right. At. All… to think of her as another warrior goddess… another Siha…

Beneath his hands, still rubbing tiny circles up and down the back of her neck, his Commander was asleep, her face no longer pinched in pain, her features relaxed.

Now what? He couldn't just leave her there. Directly behind him was the small bed… Wake her up? Let her sleep in the chair? Pick her up and take her back to her quarters? Oh yeah. That would go over well, especially if any of the crew saw him carrying her to the elevator.

He could pick her up and if she awoke he'd send her on her way. If she didn't, she could sleep on the bed and he'd make do in the chair. Oh what the hell. He scooped her out of the chair, and when she didn't wake, but rolled her face to snuggle closer into the frills of his neck, he turned and placed her gently on the small bed. Oh well, it looked like it was the chair for him tonight…

She wasn't sure what woke her up, but thought it was probably the drell snoring softly in the chair beside her. Illuminated by the soft glow of the drive core, he looked uncomfortable half lying on the table, head at an odd angle. She remembered coming to talk to Thane, remembered the blinding headache, remembered the magic his hands worked on her head, remembered thinking that if she could just close her eyes for a minute… A warm little smile played on her lips. Why hadn't he woken her up? That would have been the simplest thing to do. He couldn't be comfortable. She'd go up to her quarters and let him have his bed, if you could call it that, back.

She tried to be quite, but the cot creaked and squeaked when she moved to sit up. Beside her, Thane immediately sat up and turned to look at her, eyes wide in that kind of wild look she'd seen soldiers get when they'd been sleeping on edge and awoke with a start.

"I'll just be heading up now." She stood up just as he did, and whether from the after effects of the headache, standing too quickly, or just being so close to him, she felt dizzy, off balance, and she began to fall backwards. His hands immediately shot out to grab her by the waist, hers clutched at the front of his jacket… and then they were falling.

Arms and legs tangled together on the small bed as he fell on top of her. Hands braced on the bed on either side of her waist, he trembled above her. Not from the effort it took to keep himself from crushing her, but with the self control it took not to crush her body to his and repeat everything they'd done to each other on the Citadel, plus a few things he'd thought of since then. His lips were but a breath away from hers, and Gods condemn his soul to hell but he wanted so badly...

She knew she shouldn't, but it was like someone else controlling her body when her arms went up around his neck and she closed the tiny space between their lips. Just a tiny kiss, just one little innocent kiss, just… oh hell, screw that.

He was already lying on top of her and it was nothing to wrap her legs around his hips. This is what her body remembered, what her body wanted, no, what it craved, the feel of him cradled between her thighs, his body pressing intimately against hers.

"Tell me to stop, Shepard," he breathed against her mouth, the trembling in his body increasing with the effort it took to not simply crawl inside her.

"I can't do that. You tell me to stop." She couldn't keep her hands from stroking the delicate ribbons of flesh at his neck, she knew it liked it. She needed to hear that deep growl he made when aroused.

"I am trying to be sensi…" he started only to groan as her fingers, then lips, played with his frills. This wasn't sensible. This wasn't a good idea. This was insanity. This was…

"So tell me to stop." Her tongue licked up his neck, back to his mouth to run over his bottom lip. The world was beginning to spin. The blue glow of the drive core illuminated the room, little shimmering stars dancing in the light. His body seemed to glow above hers and she wanted him inside her, so she could glow, too.

"Just remember you asked for this," was his only reply, a little terse, a little angry, before he was pulling her shirt and sports bra up and off, followed by her boots, pants, and a tiny scrap of lace that passed for underwear. His followed just a quickly and before she could even think about changing her mind his warm body was covering hers, that glorious male member she'd dreamed of heavy and throbbing between her thighs.

Thane knew he was out of control. Knew he was too far gone to stop. But she was, too. She was on fire, the look in her eyes burning him to ashes with the heat of her desire. She was just as perfect as he remembered. Not drell, not assari, but human female to perfection. Raspberry tipped breasts that begged for his mouth, he lowered his head and took one in his mouth. One hand splayed over her stomach to drift down between her legs where he pushed his thick middle finger into her moist heat. Gods she was hot and wet and tight, already bucking her hips onto his finger. Thumb finding that spot that drove her wild he circled, flicked, and rubbed until she was spasming and sobbing his name.

And then he was inside her, no warning, no slow side, just balls deep in one thrust, his name a hoarse scream as she arched and wrapped her legs tight around his waist.

She was flying, above the clouds, above the galaxy, up where the gods lived and ruled. She needed to taste him, to drown in him. She kissed his lips, his jaw, the delicate frills of his neck, the rougher scales of his chest. Over and over he surged into her and she couldn't help arching and writhing under him. He more than filled her, his cock larger than most humans. The ribbed segments massaged the walls of her sex, touching and caressing that magic spot inside that made her want to cry it felt so intense.

This is what she'd been dreaming of, this remembered perfection as they bodies met and took from each other, met and gave to each other, almost like they meant to be here, at this time, this place… this life. It was rough, it was animalistic, they were definitely out of control… It was perfect.

Reaching between their sweat slick bodies, he again loved and toyed with her clit. Almost immediately she came, her body arching off the bed, a death grip on his shoulders as she orgasmed over and over, the walls of her sex clenching his cock deliciously. He gripped her face in his hands, mouth covering hers to absorb the scream that seemed wrenched from her soul as he too gave up his fragile control on sanity and flooded her tight cunt with his cum. Over and over he arched into her, pouring himself into her until they were both spent and breathing heavily.

It was her omni tool chirping that woke her up. Struggling to open her eyes, it took her a moment to recognize where she was. Warm breath on the back of her neck. Head pillowed on a green scaly arm, another arm thrown over her waist, a four fingered hand splayed over her stomach, holding her tightly against a warm chest. Legs tangled together under a sheet, her very naked ass nestled against his very naked crotch…

A twitch. Was that a twitch?

"I would suggest that if we are going into Nos Astra this morning, that you return to your quarters, Commander, because evidently I have no control over how my body reacts to you." What the hell was going on in his head? He couldn't even blame alcohol this time. No he'd been stone cold sober and unable to control himself. His gods had surely left him. His prayers and meditations had gone unanswered, his resolve shattered by one small woman. Shepard, Commander, evil siren that's going to cause the sea to throw his body back onto the beach…

His deep throaty voice made her quiver on the inside and tingle on the outside. That there was more than a little disgust and self deprecation tinting his admission, didn't keep him from responding to her nearness. That she evidently had the exact same problem didn't go unnoticed by her psyche either.

That was definitely a twitch. She felt an answering twitch between her own legs. She had to get up and get ready for their mission this morning. Had to get out of this bed before she rolled on top of him and…

"Commander, Operative Lawson would like to see you in her office before you leave for Nos Astra," EDI's digital voice sounded over the intercom.

"Thanks EDI. Let her know I'll be down in about a half hour." Climbing ungracefully out of the small bed she began gathering her clothes and pulling them on.

"Logging you out Commander."

"I gotta go, Thane. Meet me in the Comm Room at 0800." She couldn't find her hair clip. She balled the long curls up and stuck them down the back of her shirt. She just needed to get from Life Support to the Elevator without anyone seeing her. Hopping on one foot she pulled on a sock then stuck her foot in a boot.

"We need to talk, Shepard," he said from the bed, still lying there with the sheet pulled only to his waist. All that expanse of bare chest… Oh dear God, she was doomed. DOOMED!

"I know… When we get back. In the mess hall. With lots of people around." She headed for the door without glancing back. She couldn't talk, not now. Her head was a mess, and she needed coffee, lots of good strong coffee…

"Understood, Commander. 0800 in the Comm Center, then."

No. It definitely wasn't the booze…

A/N: I had a migraine last weekend. That's what inspired this little piece of my story.