Disclaimer: Mass Effect doesn't belong to me, nor do I intend to profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: I can't even tell you how much your reviews mean to me. Seriously, I love you all. I am overcome with emotion that you would defend me and my fic. No lie.
Shepard stopped short when she walked into her cabin. Kaidan was sitting on her bed, his bag of gear sitting at his feet. She clenched her teeth, aware of the implications of his actions as he sat smirking at her. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, tossing the datapad she'd been looking at on her desk.
"I'm moving in," he replied simply, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"No, you're not," she stated flatly, shaking her head, gesturing towards the door.
He rose, and moved over to stand in front of her, "Chérie, if you're going to fuck me in the hallway of the crew deck because I happened to be taking a shower before you walked by, alors oui, j'habite avec toi." His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, his lips dipping down to brush against hers.
Her palms rested against his chest, "Just wait, let me think." She moved away from him, dropping down on the cushions of her sofa. A small spread across her lips as she thought of the benefits of having him essentially live in her cabin with her. She'd have someone to stick her cold feet on every night, and maybe they could actually get to know each other a little, he was still a big mystery to her. Of course, she'd also have to share her space with him, not something she liked to do. When she'd first gotten her own quarters with command of the SR1, she'd practically jumped for joy.
"Ok, but I have stipulations. If I tell you to get out, you leave, no questions asked," she patted the cushion next to her, and to be perverse, he sat on the coffee table across from her, earning a scowl.
"Bien sûr," he replied easily, and knew he was throwing her off her stride by being agreeable. He noted the look of consternation on her face, "Chère, I want to make this work. Arguing with you isn't going to help. Besides, I get a perverse thrill at throwing you off balance," he smirked, rubbing his palms on her thighs.
She laughed, and shook her head, "You would," she murmured and leaned forward so her forehead touched his. "I have some work to do," she said softly, "Make yourself at home, I guess."
He captured her lips, his fingers twining in her hair, cupping the back of her head, "Je le suis déjà."
She shook her head and stood, running her fingers through his hair on her way to sit behind her desk. Kaidan flopped down on the couch, throwing his arm over his eyes. He'd felt a migraine brewing for a little while now, and now that the confrontation that he'd been anticipating wasn't really a confrontation at all; he groaned softly and tried to will himself to sleep.
Shepard was focused on her work, writing a few reports to send to Hackett and Anderson, documenting her dealings with Cerberus. She also had some encrypted data to send then, but she'd worry about that later. She glanced around sharply when she heard someone rasp out her name, having forgotten that Kaidan was in the room. She stood up suddenly, her chair toppling over with a loud clatter, and she heard another strained groan, and remembered Kaidan, feeling foolish.
"Hey, are you alright?" she called softly, moving down the steps, stopping short in at the sight of him, his skin clammy and pale, his eyes buried in the crook of his arm. She backtracked, and hit the controls to dim the lights in an effort to bring him some measure of relief. She knew he had migraines, but she'd yet to see him in the throes of one. She wasn't quite sure what she should do for him.
"Hey!" she exclaimed softly as he surged to his feet and staggered towards the head.
"Can I puke in peace?" he grunted irritably, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet as the door whisked shut behind him. She winced; she'd rather patch together a gushing wound in the field than listen to someone retching. She moved towards her desk, looking for a bottle of water, and contemplated calling Dr. Chakwas to see if he needed meds, but decided against it. He was a grown man; he knew what he needed.
She whipped around when the door slid open, and he staggered out. He made a soft noise as she wrapped a warm arm around his waist, guiding him towards the bed. He sat on the edge, and took the bottle of water she offered, taking a tentative sip. "Pourrais-tu?" he gestured to his bag, curling up on his side after he recapped the bottle of water. "My meds, in my bag," he croaked, "Pre-measured syringe."
She rifled through his bag, feeling weird going through his things. She found the pressure syringe, and depressed the trigger after she placed it against his arm. She reached over to stroke his hair, but he just groaned, and pulled a pillow over his eyes, trying to tell her to go away with out actually speaking.
She remembered something one of the N7 students she'd trained with had told her about massage helping her migraines sometimes, and she tentatively pressed her cool fingertips to his temples, rubbing small circles against his clammy skin.
He sighed softly, whatever she was doing; it was helping. The combination of the meds swimming in his bloodstream and her cool hand rubbing his scalp and brow were helping the worst of the pain to back off. "Merci, chère," he slurred softly, his tongue heavy in his mouth in his heavily drugged state.
She sat with him for a long while, his head resting in her lap, her fingers still gently massaging his scalp. She really wished she could stretch her back, her muscles were cramping fiercely with the effort to hold herself perfectly still. Kaidan had fallen asleep hours ago, and she was loath to disturb him. "Maman," he mumbled in his sleep,
"Kaidan?" she said quietly, running her hands through his hair.
He woke with a start, glancing blearily around, "Shepard," he murmured, gently gripping her hand as her fingers laced in his. "Je croyais…" he trailed off, his brain still foggy from the dregs of the migraine and his meds.
She giggled softly, "You thought I was your mother?"
"Ah, pas exactement," his voice was still slurred, his tongue didn't want to move correctly, and his curious French accent was sneaking through. "Maman used to rub my head for me like that, shortly after I got my implant, it just... It took me back, I guess." He turned his head to glance at her 'tool, noted the time. "Stiff yet?" he asked softly.
She groaned, and stretched her back, falling back against the mattress with his head still pillowed on her lap. "Tell me about your mother?" she asked quietly.
Kaidan sighed, he hadn't thought about his parents in, well, years. "My mother was an engineer. She grew up in Quebec, went to school in the States, where she met my dad. They got married, and they got sent to Singapore for a few years while my dad was with the Alliance."
Shepard sucked in a breath, "Your dad was Alliance?"
"Oui," he said tiredly, his words still slurring, "Maman worked for a company doing mass effect field research, and was exposed to eezo while she was pregnant with me. I was one of the lucky ones," he said quietly. "There were a lot of woman that lost their babies, or they got terminal cancer as children."
She nodded, she had heard the stories; she supposed she was one of the lucky ones as well. She scrubbed her fingers through his hair, ruffling his short curls, knowing they would spike up erratically in the morning.
He made a soft noise of approval, and gingerly rolled so that her breasts cushioned his head. "My dad left the Alliance after that, and they moved to Vancouver, where some of his family had settled down. They got a place overlooking English Bay, I was born, and you know the rest from my dossier."
Shepard's fingers laced with his, and she smiled as she shook her head, "I really don't, actually. Your dossier was pretty light on the personal details."
" Très bien. Qu'est-ce que tu veux savoir?" he closed his eyes, still sensitive to the light, even the husky sound of her soft voice was starting to wear on him.
"Have you spoken to them since the incident on Jump Zero?" she asked.
Kaidan groaned, "We got sent home, and my dad and I had a huge falling out. I stormed out of the house and never looked back, catching the next shuttle off Earth."
"Don't you miss them?" she murmured. "My dad died a few years ago, I miss him terribly."
He pondered her words for several long minutes, relishing in the blessed silence, "I never really thought about it, I guess." He exhaled, "But yeah, I guess I do."
Shepard lay quietly in the semi-darkness with him, listening as his breathing evened out as sleep snuck up on him. "We have time, I can take you to see them before we hit the Omega-4 relay."
"J'aimerais ça," he slurred softly, sighing as he drifted off to sleep.
They slept in the next morning, he because he was sleeping off his meds; she because she was exhausted from staying up until the wee hours with him. She didn't have anything pressing at the moment, having instructed Joker and EDI to scan the planets of the system they were in for minerals.
She woke to an onslaught to her senses, her skin on fire as his clever fingers kneaded her breasts, his other hand drifting down her belly to the sweet curls between her thighs, his thumb pressing against her damp sex.
"Bonjour, chère," his husky voice met her ears, as her bleary eyes blinked open. She gasped as his lips lowered to take her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swiping a sensual caress over her heated skin. His fingers plunged into her heated center, and her hips bucked violently off the bed.
The languid remnants of sleep fled as she pushed against his shoulder, and rolled over on top of him. "How do you say, 'Let me ride you?'" she asked, her voice a silken caress, her sex gliding hotly against his firm arousal.
He swallowed hard, "Ah, laisse moi te monter," he groaned as she slid down his thick shaft, her tight walls stretching around him.
She threw her head back, her breasts jutting out proudly and her back bowed deeply. "Laisse moi te monter," her husky laughter lingered in the air, her hips rocking against his, sliding up and down his thick shaft, her strong inner muscles clasping tightly about him.
Mewling cries left her lips as she panted, her strong fingers lacing with his, gripping tightly as her orgasm built up within her. Her release rolled through her with a moan, and he grasped her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace as his hips pumped into her. Her lips clamped down on the pulse point in his throat, her tongue laving roughing against his skin.
His chest heaved as he panted, and he shouted harshly as his release tore through him. He felt her teeth scraping against his skin, her fingernails digging half-moons into his skin. She sighed into the crook of his neck, "Je t'aime."
He chuckled softly, "Je t'aime, aussi."