Chapter Eleven

by bluekrishna

She didn't look all that much different. No, scratch that, physically, she'd changed a lot. But under that, she remained much as he remembered. Same fire in her eyes. Same compelling earnestness thinly coated in an aura of discipline and command. And, just as before, that flavor of barely checked violence and ruthlessness muddying the whole of it like an oily patina on a lake. No wonder they wanted her to be a Spectre.

Of course, this image of her might be heavily influenced by the N7-Hurricane she had aimed at his face. Perhaps I should have called ahead, he thought as he lifted both hands in to show how friendly he was.

His sudden appearance caused quite a stir. As it should, he supposed. He didn't even bother knocking, after all. A simple hack and he strolled in, with barely a pause in his stride. Impressive how quickly they'd responded. He'd rounded the corner and found himself at the business end of many a gun held in the hands of her people. That pleased him to no end. To see such stalwart defenders.

"Who the hell are you?" Shepard growled, craning her neck to try to peek up into his deep cowl. Her eyes widened as she found his eyes. He wondered if she recognized him. It wouldn't surprise him if she had, but a sudden revelation might not be the best thing for all parties concerned.

"Nih-" she began.

He lifted a hand and put a finger over his mouthplates; a curious human gesture. Turians communicated this same wish for silence with the set of their mandibles. "Can we talk?" In private, his tone implied.

She considered him for a long moment and, with eyes narrowed in suspicion, waved the others to lower their firearms. The human jerked her head to the side, indicating a side passage at the back of the apartment. He followed at a sedate pace, lacing his fingers behind his back.

A familiar scent filled his nostrils, along with the astringent smell of antiseptics and solvents. A scent that once saturated his pores. Sweat and lust and memories of long, heated nights. A shiver ran along his skin, trailing out to the ends of his extremities. He couldn't help but grin. He really is here.

The woman wheeled on him as soon as they were out of earshot of the others, "So which is it, hmm? Ghost, or clone? Or is this some sort of...joke assassination attempt?"

"Shepard," he admonished, with a shake of his head, "the only one around here that butchers humor is that pilot of yours."

"Take that ridiculous thing off your head. Cloak and dagger, my ass."

He couldn't help but notice that her finger never left the trigger of her SMG. One had to admire that kind of die-hard caution. Not that he could blame her. He did as she asked and peeled his hood back and down.

Shepard studied his face for a long time, her brows furrowing. Finally, she blinked and opened her vibrant, green eyes wide. "It is you. How? You fucking d-."

"Died? Yeah, I know. Hear it all the time."

She snorted. "Tell me about it."

"Maybe we should form a 'We Belong Dead' club." That obscure reference to an old Terran vid startled a laugh out of her and he watched her visibly relax. "For the record, I am mostly cloned tissue. I spent a whole year longer than you did dead. Not even the best refrigeration keeps the meat fresh for that long."

"Nihlus Kryik, back from the dead. I'm going to assume that Cerberus' super secret resurrection method got out." She shook her head and laughed. Nihlus noticed for the first time the bags of puffy flesh under her eyes, her wrinkled uniform.

"Don't worry. The process cost the Council so much that it's unlikely we'll all be neck-deep in the newly risen."

"Look, if you're here on the behalf of the Council with a mission, it's gonna have to wait-"

"No, actually, I'm here because…" It felt strange now, to say it out loud. But times were strange. That didn't stop him from squirming. "Because…" he trailed off again, musing over his shyness. Funny, he'd never been shy before he'd died.

Just then, the soft thumping in the other room that he hadn't really noticed built to a pounding. Punctuated by moans and the sounds of flesh slapping flesh. A female voice cried out, a male one groaned in counterpoint, the dual-toned croon of a male turian finding completion. Nihlus felt his plates flush. His tongue came out to flick against the inside of his mandible.

The soft light of realization lit Shepard's face and she laughed. "Oh, what, seriously? A little chemical accident and now everyone is coming out of the woodwork, and, in some cases, back from the ever-lovin' dead, to have a crack at my...sniper?"

The strange hesitation drew his attention. Nihlus focused on the haggard and weary expression on her face, the thin cracks in the veneer of her resolve. Obviously, there was a connection here he never contemplated. "He is irresistible, isn't he?"

His insight threw her, he could see, by the way her head whipped around to him. A dozen little humorous jabs floated through his mind, but he ignored their pull and said, "Look, I'm here to help a friend. A friend who always seems to get himself into trouble without planning a way out."

"So, you knew him befo-"

"Odd how the lines of fate cross sometimes, isn't it?"

"Indeed…" she mused as she watched him. He wondered if she saw the real reason past his whimsical tone. Nihlus expected nothing less of that sharp mind behind that flat, round face. This very second, he could almost feel her picking apart his motivations, his glib talk.

Shepard walked past him and out of the room, saying, "I'm going to go check on him. As I'm assuming you're here strictly incognito, you can stay here and wait for me to give the go ahead."

Nihlus hummed, pleased that not only did he not get himself shot that day, but he might get the chance to see an old, and very dear friend.

That same dear friend smiled wanly up at Nihlus from his sickbed. Clearly, Shepard broke the news already. Just as well. "Oh, Sunshine, what have they done to you?"

Garrus chuckled. "I could say the same thing to you. What, being dead was too boring for you?"

"No rest for the wicked." Nihlus chuckled, sitting at the edge of the bed. His mandibles flared out in a leer. "Speaking of wicked. Tell me this is all a clever ruse to bang every willing being on the station and you'll have my admiration forever."

"No such luck. It's really quite serious." Garrus grunted, rolling onto his back. The thin sheet that draped over his naked body did not do much to hide the conspicuous bulge below his waist. Beads of perspiration rolled down long, well-formed limbs. They begged him to taste. Nihlus felt heat course through him at the sight. Spirits, the man was still sexy as hell.

And the scent that wafted so deliciously into his nares. Nihlus' eyes rolled back into his head as he breathed it in as deep as he could. It tickled dormant memories into wakefulness and he grasped at them like a desperate man.

For all his flippant replies to Shepard's questions, his motives weren't all altruistic. He was a man with no past. Nobody waited for him, or mourned him. Only a very few even knew he lived, such as it was.

A warm hand grasped his thigh right above the knee and squeezed. Nihlus moaned, his pants suddenly feeling far too tight. His incredulous gaze locked onto bright blue eyes in a face inches from his own. Garrus' other hand went right for his crotch and Nihlus found his back arching into the kneading, rolling palm. He panted out between gasps, "And...here I thought...I was the one...that did all the seducing."

"A lifetime ago, maybe." Garrus hummed against his neck. Then he sat back on the bed and growled, "Why aren't you naked yet?"

Nihlus couldn't shed his clothes quick enough. Shirt, boots, pants; they all went flying in different directions. At last, he stood nude at the foot of the bed and stared at Garrus, who stroked himself while watching the Spectre disrobe. Watching that hand fly up and down that turgid length provoked an answering throbbing in his own cock.

The hungry need that shone from Garrus' eyes filled him with such desire as he could never recall feeling before for the earnest, stubborn boy he'd first met long ago on far Palaven. No longer shy, Garrus made an exhibition of touching himself, rolling his hips into his hand, his cock a shiny, wet spear between parted muscled thighs. It was enough to make a man weep in joy.

The heavy weight between Nihlus' legs seemed to grow heavier still as Garrus beckoned with one finger for him to come closer. He crawled on hands and knees up the length of the bed until he found himself eye to 'eye' with that cock. His hands planted on either side of Garrus' hips. The turian under him never ceased pumping away. This close, Nihlus could almost see the blood surging along the shaft, darkening the head to nearly purple. He thought to himself with a chuckle, Best seat in the house.

"Use your tongue." commanded Garrus. Shock flooded his system as the phrase awoke another memory.

Same words, nearly the same tone, in a darker, huskier voice. In his mind's eye, he saw the flash of silvery plates, nearly white in luster. The long sweep of zygomatic plates, a face made up of hard, cruel angles, but so very fascinating. How he'd spent hours tracing them with trembling fingers, amazed that the deadly biotic let him.

"Nihlus." Garrus' voice broke him out of his reverie. His head jerked up , eyes darting to meet the sniper's concerned look. "What's the matter?"

Nihlus laughed and shook his head, "Just some….leftover cobwebs. Memories that are still trying to shuffle back into place."

Garrus nodded in understanding and planted a hand in the center of Nihlus' chest, pushing him back onto his heels, then farther until he lay on his back with Garrus mantling over him like a predator. Nihlus swallowed hard as Garrus' teeth grazed over his chest, down his abdomen, nibbling on his hipbone on the way further south. He writhed as Garrus breathed a fevered breath over his impossibly hard erection.

A choked moan tore its way free of his throat as a hot tongue ran along his seam, where the base of his cock emerged from its sheath. As Garrus lapped at him, swirling his tongue around the shaft from root to tip, Nihlus bucked and cursed. He spared a moment for the thought that while other species always had their charms, only turian men knew just where to touch and how much.

Garrus' hands spread him wide and that glorious tongue flitted further down and found the puckered ring of his cloaca. Oh, fuck, yes. Spirits, Gods, Powers, don't let him stop now!

And when it slid up inside him and touched that knot of nerves in his depths, Nihlus felt the sensation build to a mind-shattering peak and screamed as stream after stream of silvery cum spurted out onto his belly. Every flick against his prostate caused another surge of his essence to arc into the air.

The tongue slid free, but not before it conducted an amused rumble into the core of him, making him shake and shudder as he came down. Garrus hovered over him and said, "I don't remember it being that easy."

"What can I say? It's, um, been a while." he said, sheepishly. In the wake of the orgasm, he felt awake, alive. Maybe for the first time since he'd been flushed out of that rejuvenation tank. "Mmm, remember that night, at your father's villa? I was on that 'official' visit. You were home on leave."

"I remember quite a bit about that night, the least of which telling you you needed to be quieter."

"Where's the fun in that? Half the fun is the possibility of being discovered."

"We almost were caught...by my sister." Garrus' tone was stern, but Nihlus saw the twinkle of mischief there in his eyes.

"Buzzkill." Nihlus wrapped his legs around Garrus' waist and pulled him close, moaning to feel the sniper's steely member slide along his backside. Spirits, it was like a iron bar straight from the forge held against his flesh, like it could burn him. Why hadn't he ever let Garrus top before? He knew why. The Garrus of the past had been in awe of him, hadn't been aggressive enough to take the lead then.

Garrus huffed and trembled. Nihlus could see clearly now how much it cost the man to hold back and admonished himself for being so selfish. He'd come here for Garrus' sake, too.

The sniper pressed his cock to Nihlus' ass and rocked back and forth, slow and tantalizing. Teasing him with the feel of that blunt tip against his hole. "You want this? Tell me you want me to fuck you with this."

"Spirits, yes!" Nihlus hissed through clenched teeth. He raked his talons down Garrus' sides to hear him grunt and cried out as something large and hard pushed past the ring of his anus, stretching him to the fullest. It delved deep into his body in surges. Advance, retreat, going further in each time. Until Garrus sunk the last four inches of that cock in one push, causing Nihlus to expel his breath in one long, cry of, "FuuuuuUUUUCK!"

Garrus grunted, as he lay on the Spectre chest to chest. "Eloquent, as always."

"Shut up and fuck me." And fuck he did, rough and fast, just like Nihlus liked it. His own cock stood up once more, harder than ever as he watched through narrowed eyes Garrus losing control above him. Talons sunk deep into his thighs, teeth gnashed just over his throat. A deep, reverberating growl thundered from both of their chests. Nihlus panted, "More! Harder! I can take it."

With a strength that frankly surprised Nihlus, Garrus flipped him over onto his knees and pushed his face down into the sheets. That huge cock buried itself once more into his backside. He keened at how full he felt, how wanton and lewd it felt to have his ass up in the air. And have it taken with such ferocity.

He reached between his legs with both hands and pulled on his cock, eyes crossing from how the feelings compounded with the growing ache in his cloaca. At this rate, he wasn't going to last long this round either.

Nihlus came undone with a mewl as Garrus slammed home once, twice, then emptied his essences deep into the Spectre with a long, loud, drawn-out moan. It seemed to go on for ages; the pulse of the sniper's cock, the feel of his own inner muscles milking it for all it was worth. It felt like a gallon of it must have splashed all over his insides, leaking out around the intrusion to slide down the inside of his thigh to mingle with his own juices.

Garrus slid free with an audible pop and listed to one side like a felled tree, ending up in a pile of sweaty, heaving turian and looking no less delicious for it. Spirits save me, I just wanna eat him up.

One of Garrus' hands came up to tug at him. Nihlus, wincing from overtaxed muscles and other aching bits, let himself roll into the other turian. He smiled as Garrus wrapped one long arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Didn't really peg you for a cuddler, Vakarian."

"Things change. A little contact after helps me cope." The way Garrus shuddered after that simple statement was disconcerting. "I missed you, you know. When Shepard told me about Eden Prime, I didn't really believe at first that she meant you. That you had died. That Saren would shoot you while your back was turned."

"Yeah, neither did I."

"Why did you drop your guard? You knew he was a bastard." Plaintive. Maybe he really did mourn. Nihlus couldn't deny a shock of warmth at the idea. That someone missed him.

Nihlus measured his words, "Did I think Saren had gone too far at times? Yes. Have I done equally bad things? Another yes. Did I think my one-time mentor and oldest friend would shoot me in the back of the head?" He sighed and continued, "No. Even I didn't think he was capable of what people told me he'd done after the fact. Years later. I still don't."

"But-" came the angry rejoinder. Nihlus forestalled it with a raised hand.

"This indoctrination thing is a very real, very palpable evil. I won't say it's completely to blame, that Saren didn't make unwise choices. But you didn't know him before. You didn't know him." Like I knew him. Nihlus sighed, deep and weary, prodding that old sorrow in his heart like a toothache.

Garrus watched him like a hawk. "You two were…"

Nihlus snorted a laugh and shrugged, another very useful human gesture he'd picked up.

The sniper shuddered again, a look of disgust planted all over his face, "How could you even-?"

"Why not? Because he was ugly? Because he was a biotic freak?" Nihlus knew what others had thought of his old mentor, what hateful barbs were leveled at that straight back every minute of every day. Considering that Nihlus himself had been treated to similar for being an outlander, those superficial concerns never swayed him.

"Because he was...evil." Even Garrus seemed to check himself there, thoughts turning inward.

Nihlus ran his fingers over the blue lacquer on Garrus' face, tracing the symbols with his talon. "Maybe I have a thing for bad boys."

Now, Garrus laughed.

The Spectre hummed in good humor. "You should have seen him in his prime. Oh, he was like a shiny, deadly knife. The way he walked through his enemies, eviscerating them with a flick of his wrist. That cloak of arrogance and pride, like ice and fire. I could nearly jizz in my pants from just hearing him threaten someone. And the way he moved…Spirits…That was before the cybernetics, of course."

The sniper coughed, in mild discomfort. Nihlus could understand, but couldn't resist adding, "Mmm, and the things he could do in the bedroo-"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture."

"I don't think you do. Seriously, that man...Many were the times I wished I were of the feminine persuasion. I wanted to have his babies."

"That's a whole lot more information than I ever needed. Thanks." Then, he muttered something about nightmares and rolled away.

Nihlus rolled with him and clung to him, one leg thrown over Garrus' two. He made his eyes large and soulful, looking at Garrus from under lowered brows. He tilted his head coyly to one side to add to the effect. "Aw, Gaaarrrus."

Garrus shot him an incredulous look before chuckling. "What are you doing?"

"It's an advanced seduction technique I picked up from the asari. I believe it's called 'simpering'."

"I think you need to work on it."

"Speaking of work, I was thinking…you know how you wanted to be a Spectre and all back in the day and-"

"And my father aborted that plan by speaking to the Council directly and I suspect, to you, privately." His tone lacked the resentment Nihlus had been sure would be there and a clenched something near his heart relaxed, filling him with relief.

"Uh, yeah, he did. Anyway, it's never too late, right? I was hoping you'd like to consider picking it back up after this whole Reaper thing is taken care of."

"If this whole Reaper thing is taken care of."

"What? Oh, Shepard will handle it. That woman doesn't know how to fail."

"No, she doesn't, does she?" There was a deep fondness in his tone. One that made Nihlus' guts do a little jealous flip.

"Soooo, you and she…?"

Garrus ducked his head a bit, "Yeah. I, I love her, Nihlus."

"Oh." He said, probably with more disappointment than he wanted. Nihlus smiled and said, "Offer still stands. You'd make a damn good Spectre, maverick that you are."

"I don't want to seem...ungrateful. And it is good seeing you again..."

"But?"

Garrus sighed, "But, even if there isn't some cushy retirement waiting for her or us or whatever, wherever she goes, I follow."

"Say no more, say no more. I get it. Can't say I'm not disappointed, but you gotta follow your heart, right?"

"Right."

"In the meantime, it seems something has come back out to play." Nihlus ran the tip of a talon over Garrus' re-emerged member and smiled to see it throb at his touch. "I never did get to taste you. I seem to remember having a fondness for your flavor. Mind if I get...re-acquainted?"

Garrus laughed and waved at his own prick, "Not at all. So long as you finish what you start."

"My dear Vakarian, have I ever left you wanting?"

And on a tide of lust and laughter, Nihlus found the link he was searching for. Something to tie his past to his present. A kernel of granite on which to rebuild the foundation of his life. Maybe someday soon, all his uncertainty of who exactly he was when he looked in the mirror would be a distant memory. Shepard said it, 'Ghost, or clone?'

He'd been both, now he could see if he was ready to be truly alive again.