Garrus knocked on the door again, staring down at the bottles of wine in his hand. Shepard wasn't answering. He had been knocking for several minutes.

She had been tense, which was more than understandable, ever since they reached the Normandy and confirmed that everyone was gone. She felt guilty over having left the ship to the mercy of the Collectors, Garrus could see it in her face.

Their first planned night out –which had sounded similar to a date, though he wasn't sure if human connotations surrounding dates were the same as turian ones so he hadn't brought up the idea- and it had ended with the crew being kidnapped and the Normandy almost being lost. He felt a pang of guilt when he thought about the crew. He would do whatever he could to help save them.

Garrus felt almost callous for worrying for Shepard's well-being at a time like this, but he knew her. She wouldn't be able to let go of that tension until the crew was saved, and there was nothing they could do to save the crew until they made it through the Omega 4 relay.

So he decided that his original plans of sharing wine after their outing were still acceptable, and he would do what he could to ease her tension.

After another knock, he finally let himself into her room, and immediately heard the sound of a shower. He stopped his steps and chose to stand by the door instead, so she wouldn't think he had been trying to look in on her. A few minutes later and he heard the shower turn off and a few minutes after that, Shepard walked out with her skin red and flushed, from the hot shower if the steam billowing out of the bathroom was any indication.

"Hey, I brought wine." He said, after Shepard had caught sight of him. She smiled. "Best I could afford on a vigilante's salary."

Despite the tiredness in her eyes and the tension in her face, she smiled softly at him, crossing her arms as she nodded in approval. "Thank you, Garrus. I'm sure it's perfect."

He walked past her and set the wine on the table by the couch before turning to put on some music –a tip he had read on an extranet site- and walked back to lean against the aquarium.

His mind raced as he tried to remember the other tips he had read on that site.

Compliment her.

Right.

What did humans compliment each other about?

"If you were a turian, I'd be complimenting your waist or your fringe." She moved towards him, close enough that he could see a few pieces of damp hair sticking to her neck, where she had missed drying it. "So your, uh, hair looks good." He reached out a hand and ran it through the loose pieces that framed her face. He saw her lips part with the movement. "And your waist is… very supportive." He let his hand slowly drop from her hair to the narrowest point in her torso, and traced his fingers along the curve there.

It didn't hit him until several heartbeats later that what he had said might have been terribly offensive to humans. He hadn't gotten around to researching what physical attributes they considered worthy of compliments. He was ready to start sputtering out apologies when Shepard reached up and put a finger to his mouth.

"Consider me seduced, smooth talker." She dropped her hand from his mouth and rested her arm over his shoulder, closing the space between them. "Now shut up and stop worrying."

Garrus brought his free hand up to rub his thumb along the tired lines near her mouth. She was close enough that he could see the grey flecks in her green eyes. He could smell the still-familiar scent of her hair. His mouth was forming the words of how he wanted something to go right, just this once.

And then her forehead was pressed to his, and his mouth pressed to hers, and everything was right.

It wasn't a night of a human and turian joining their bodies and finding out that everything was perfect and that they fit together just right.

It was a night of two awkward friends turned lovers experimenting with what felt best for both species. Of Shepard realizing that Garrus wasn't exaggerating about his reach or his ability to use his fingers well, of Garrus experiencing Shepard's flexibility in ways that he knew a turian couldn't bend, of Shepard swearing that Garrus would 'never fit in that way' no matter which angle they tried.

Of Garrus being thankful he had brought the analgesic lotion to use on Shepard's thighs, and later on her back, after he had proved her wrong in several different ways. And even later on her breasts, because once he had discovered them, they kept drawing his attention back, if only for the sounds Shepard made when he lavished them.

Of Shepard learning, quite happily, the best uses for a turian tongue, and realizing that she enjoyed Garrus' voice even more when it was reverberating through her, the words barely audible when coming from somewhere between her legs. And that Garrus responded quite the same way to the feeling of her fingers under his fringe as she did when his hands found their way back to her hair.

Of Garrus asserting, quite vocally, that he would never again say –or even think- that humans had too many fingers, after Shepard showed him just what those fingers could do. Followed by promising to replace her sheets after several talons tore through them when she used those soft, pink lips and that warm, wet mouth to let Garrus experience one of those acts that were 'not performed between turians'.

Of both of them finding out that two hours wasn't nearly long enough to show the other just how much they cared.

Of seeing just how easily blowing off steam and easing tension had turned to making love, as their movements slowed and soft arms wrapped around a rough back –and rough hands pressing against a soft back - as they tried to draw the time out until the last possible minute. Because if this had been their last time, as well as their first, they were both going to cherish every moment.

Of pulling on armour and whispering goodbyes.

Of foreheads pressing together, of lips finding a ready mouth one last time only moments before the elevator doors opened.

Of a small hand squeezing a larger hand, so tight that it ached, before each letting go and moving apart to watch the lights of the Omega 4 relay appear.

He could still taste her on his tongue.

That's what went through his mind when their eyes met across the table and she gave him lead of the second fire team to help storm the Collector base.

They were headed into what had always been, from the start, a suicide mission. Shepard had asked him, after rescuing him on Omega, to walk by her side into hell.

He had always known he was a bad turian, who couldn't follow a bad order.

But damned if he wasn't a good solider that would march into hell at his commander's side.