This chapterdeserves an M rating. Thanks to Smehur for beta reading.


Chapter Eleven: Down Time

Liara walked through the Wards with her heart pounding, half listening to the conversation Garrus was conducting at her side.

"No, I can't tell you exactly what's going on, but it's big... Come on, you know you can trust me." He laughed, briefly. "That was only the one time, and you were drunk, too. Look, all I'm saying is be ready for anything. Right. Take care of yourself."

He shut down his comm, and said, "All right. That's the last. I've called everyone at C-Sec who I trust to be discreet. Who knows, it might do some good. So... what did you have in mind?"

They had come to the Citadel so Shepard could make her case to the Council and Ambassador Udina. Shepard expected her meetings to take several hours, so she'd given the team a few hours' leave, one last opportunity for recreation. They were supposed to stay on call, just in case, but were otherwise free for the moment.

And Liara had made up her mind. She said, "Well, you said you had an apartment."

He stopped short, turning to face her. The crowd in the walkway broke around them. "I do. I, uh... I haven't spent much time there, lately. I don't think I have any food there, to speak of."

"I'm not hungry." She found his gloved hand and squeezed, slightly. "And if we are, later... we can order in."

He blinked, his mandibles twitching, then spreading into a smile. "Yeah, we can do that. Definitely."


"It's not very big," Garrus said, half apologetically, turning on the lights. "It's just me, and I spend so much time at work that I don't need a lot of space."

Liara rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to pass judgment on your apartment." She did note that the place was tidy, and clean, except for the fine layer of dust which showed that its occupant had been elsewhere for several weeks. It smelled faintly of metal and armor polish.

"Right," he said. "So... I wasn't quite expecting you to suggest this, um, right now. You're sure...?"

She turned toward him. He looked a little nervous, or uncertain, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Her own heart was hammering in her chest, and her hand shook a little when she put it on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. "I am," she said. "Not that I'm not nervous, and I appreciate that you've been patient, but... I am." She made herself stop babbling and tentatively shifted her hand from his shoulder to his neck, stroking along the soft skin.

He smiled. Not the usual teasing smirk, but a different, softer expression. "All right then," he said, and took a step toward her, into her space. He touched the side of her neck, mirroring her gesture, before sliding his hand to the nape of her neck, stroking the soft ridges. She wrapped her other arm around him, feeling the slight shift of his breathing, and his free hand lightly explored the curve of her waist and hip. He leaned forward and pressed the side of his face against her cheek. She could feel the edges of his mandible and facial plates, warm and slightly rough against her skin. She shivered and kissed the side of this throat, feeling his pulse, rapid under her lips. Her hand moved further up, scraping the edges of scale, and got low growl as her reward, vibrating through both of them and adding to the yearning that was building up inside her. Her grip on him tightened.

His hand left her back so he could yank the glove off with his teeth and drop it to the floor. He put it back on her waist but slid it up under her shirt and jacket, his skin shockingly warm against hers. She stifled a gasp. They'd had very little skin-to-skin contact, ever, and she found herself suddenly, urgently wanting more. She moved away just far enough to tug the zipper of her jacket down.

"Mm," said Garrus. "I approve." Together, they got her jacket off, and then he seemed to get distracted by the newly revealed skin along her neck and shoulder. He dipped his head to nuzzle at it and then licked a hot, wet trail along her collarbone, swirling into the hollow at the base of her throat. Liara gasped out loud that time, her attention narrowing to those points of contact. She clutched at his shoulders to keep herself upright, because her knees didn't seem up to the task any more. His hands crept under her shirt, sliding up along her spine and tugging the garment up until she had to raise her arms, and her knees did wobble. The shirt came up and off, falling to the floor in a heap of white fabric, and there she was, half bared. She felt warm all over, blushing, again. The way he cupped her chin in one hand and drew his thumb across her cheekbone suggested he didn't mind.

"Garrus," she said, voice low and breathy, but promptly forgot what she intended to say as he leaned down and rested his mouth against hers. Her lips parted, their tongues twining together, her mouth filling with the taste of him, and heat flooded her body. Her hands ran over his chest, searching for the fastenings of his shirt. She was distracted, though, when his fingers found the curve of her breasts. Overwhelmed by how good it felt, she arched into his touch, seeking firmer contact, gathering the fabric of his shirt in her fists, astonished to hear herself outright moan.

He chuckled, and the vibration made her quiver. "You like that," he murmured against her neck, his hands still working slow circles over her breasts.

"You're... wearing..." She could scarcely string words together, already, and tugged on his shirt to make her point. Her seeking fingers finally found a clasp to undo.

"Like that off?" he inquired, voice rumbling low against her shoulder, but he let go and busied himself with the clasps, letting coherent thought return to her brain for half a moment. She looked around, surveying the furniture, and he said, "The bedroom's that way," with a jerk of his head.

She went, pulling off her boots on the way. The room was dark, though, and she was feeling along the wall for the light controls when he came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist. She leaned into him almost instinctively, her back against his chest, seeking contact. His head dropped alongside hers, and he licked lightly along her shoulder as he gathered her against him. He was so warm, his body so firm against hers, his breath so hot on her neck. She sighed and let him support her as he unfastened her pants and his fingers delved within. He gently stroked the sensitive skin of her groin, tracking downwards between her thighs. The touch felt like trails of fire, and she groaned, feeling a fuzzy sort of pulling sensation at the back of her mind. "Wait," she managed to say, not quite ready to lose herself entirely.

His hand slid back up to her waist, obligingly. "Wait?"

She twisted around to face him, but it took her a moment to compose a whole sentence. "Don't you think this is a little one-sided?" she said, looking up into the pale blue eyes. Something seemed odd—oh, he'd taken off the targeting visor, which made him look far more naked than being shirtless.

"Trust me, your reaction is totally worthwhile," he said, trailing off into a deep sigh as she put her own research to work. She mapped his chest with her hands, exploring the edges of plate, sliding her fingers along the soft skin in between, noting his reactions: the sighs and shifts and the building hum in his chest. He reached for the lights, flicking them on and then dimming them, while she tried an experiment: running her tongue downwards along what seemed to be a particularly sensitive patch of skin, at the same time moving her hands along the unprotected sides of his narrow waist. She got a full-fledged groan for her efforts and looked up to see him gripping both sides of the door frame. Feeling inordinately pleased with herself, she continued her work with her mouth. With her hands, she found and undid the clasps of his trousers. He went very still when she mirrored his maneuver and slid one hand underneath the clothing. She trailed her fingers gently along his length, feeling out the shape and texture of him while his breath turned ragged and his whole frame trembled.

"Liara—" he said, voice low and rumbling, and pulled her up against him, seeking her mouth for another kiss, hungry and urgent, which she returned just as eagerly. He walked her backward across the room. Her knees bumped into something and she tumbled backward onto a firm, slightly concave surface, and it took her a moment to realize it was a turian-style bed—well, of course it was, what else would he have here? He followed her down, tugged her pants over her hips and down her legs. She returned the favor, pushing his trousers off his angular hips, and he finished the job, kicking them off. She looked down at herself: her whole lower abdomen was flushed deep azure, like the slang, the folds between her legs parted and a little swollen. Garrus leaned over her and stroked her, exploring the landscape of her body and she cried out, almost overwhelmed by the sensation, shutting her eyes tight and writhing as he found his way to her opening.

She pressed into his touch, needy, and the mental pull was stronger now, her mind alight with sparks. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him flush against her, felt him shift his hands to support his weight. His voice came soft in her ear: "Ready?"

A little nervousness reasserted itself, but she whispered, "Yes," and he slowly sank himself into her.

It hurt a little, though she tried not to show it. But then their minds joined, and in the rush of unfamiliar sensation and perception she caught two things very clearly. First, his desire for her, deep and strong, and second, almost as strong, his anxiety that he would hurt her. And somehow that soothed her; her muscles relaxed. The discomfort faded, and suddenly everything became much easier. Where melding with Shepard and seeking the visions in her mind was always a struggle that left her drained and exhausted, this, here felt like the simplest and most natural thing in the world, the deep, intimate physical connection easing the mental link. Their joined bodies shivered together, adjusting. She trembled with new sensations and felt everything that he felt, and he everything that she felt, sensations, thoughts, and feelings rolling back and forth between them.

She felt him inside her, hard and hot, and his breath against her cheek; and she felt what he felt, her body tight and velvety soft around him and her fingers digging into his back. They could move, now, with greater confidence, knowing what felt good, sensing through their connection where and how to touch. She adjusted the angle of her hips; he returned a hand to her breast; she drew her nails up the back of his neck; he nibbled ever so lightly along her collarbone. As the connection deepened there was more shared sensation, thought, and memory. Neither of them was really thinking in words, but she caught flickers of remembrance from him, felt how different she was from the turians he'd been with before. She caught glimpses, too, of herself, seen at other times. A memory of that first kiss, back on Noveria, and felt fierce gladness—from herself? from him? from them both? she wasn't sure, and it wasn't important—that that moment had led them to this one.

She had been racked with bliss from nearly the moment their minds melded, and had no sense at all of how much time passed before she felt the pleasure rolling through his body, too, as he stiffened and pulsed inside her. She held onto him still, feeling him gradually relax, and after a time the mental connection faded, and she was alone in her own body again.

He rolled off her and she followed, curling up against his warmth. He pulled her snug against him. "Goddess," she said, catching her breath. The feelings and memories she'd picked up from his mind were already fading, but the warm glow of the joining lingered.

He laughed, the vibration rolling through both of them. "Yeah."

She said, "I mean, people told me about melding, but..."

"Me too." His hand lightly caressed her hip. "Words don't quite..."

She understood. "No, they don't."

After a moment, he said, "Sorry about the beginning..."

She kissed his throat. "Don't be. I was too tense. Everything worked out just fine."

Many minutes passed in silence filled with afterglow before he spoke again.

"So," he said. "Did you want to order something to eat, or...?" His hand shifted, his thumb rubbing the skin just above her thigh. A question.

Her own fingers explored the space between his hips, found him not quite retracted, and he groaned a little at her touch. "I don't know that I'm hungry quite yet," she said.

From the other room, his comm chimed.

"Damn." Garrus scrambled out of bed and ran into the next room. Liara sat up, observing the trail of clothing they'd left behind. She couldn't hear who was on the other end of the link, but she heard his voice clearly: "Yes. Of course. I can be there in... fifteen minutes. Or twenty."

He came back in a moment later, setting his visor back into place.

"What is it?"

"Shepard wants me to suit up and meet her at Flux." He opened a closet and started dressing. "Good thing I have a spare set of armor here."

"Ah." Liara climbed out of the bed herself. "Do you know why?"

"She didn't say. You can use the bathroom, if you like. The door should lock when you leave."

Liara's omni-tool, discarded with her jacket, buzzed then. "I thought that might happen," she said, already moving toward it.

When she took the message, the synthetic voice of the Normandy's VI said, "General call. All Normandy personnel report to the ship immediately." That was all; the message simply repeated until she pressed the acknowledgment button. She pulled her shirt back on and headed into the bedroom to retrieve her pants, nearly running into Garrus, fully armored, in the doorway.

"You're fast," she said, standing aside for him.

"Standard turian military drill," he replied. He paused for just a second to brush his forehead against hers. "See you back at the ship."

She planted a quick kiss on his cheekplate. "See you then."


Liara could hear the hum of the Normandy's engines even as she stepped into the airlock. Which prompted a question: Why were the engines running when the ship was docked? Her chest tightened with growing anxiety. She started to speak as she came out of the airlock, but Joker glanced back and shook his head. "Not now, Liara."

Swallowing her questions, she turned down the corridor. The entire CIC seemed alive with energy, and was far more fully staffed than it had been when she departed a few hours earlier. Pressly caught her eye, but waved her toward the stairs. "Only essential crew in the CIC just now, Dr. T'Soni, thank you."

She sighed and headed down, trying to control her nerves. Scanning the mess, she was relieved to see Tali, and caught her arm as she headed toward the elevator. "What's going on?"

"Well... we're making preparations for departure." Tali twisted her hands together. "But I... I don't think Shepard's meetings went well."

"What happened?"

"She didn't say, but she came back earlier than she expected, and she looked..." Tali shook her head. "She was in a really awful mood. And then she got a message and went tearing out with Kaidan, in full armor."

"She called Garrus and told him to meet her at Flux," Liara said.

"Really? I wonder..." Tali cocked her head. "You were together?"

Liara shook her head. "Yes, but that's not important right now."

Tali sighed and went back to fidgeting. "She called in orders to prepare for departure and recall the crew. But as far as I know, we're on lockdown right now. Liara, I... I think we might be stealing the ship."