Chapter 26- And Here's What Actually Happened
She'd been in no condition to try and get back to her room alone, and I wasn't about to let her try. I knew her well enough to know that she'd either wind up heading for Kaidan's room to take advantage of his incapacitation, or breaking down some random person's door in her inebriated state.
Fucking, or fighting. That's what she had said. Apparently, she hadn't been kidding when she warned me of that before we'd set out to "party like there was no tomorrow." Fortunately, I knew her better than almost anyone, so deflecting her attempts to get herself into trouble had been nearly effortless.
Or, it had been, until we'd left Lapsus, the hotel's bar. I hadn't anticipated her attempting to swim in the gigantic fountain in the hotel's lobby. That was definitely not on the list of things I thought Teandra Shepard would ever do, drunk or not.
Not stopping to chuck my boots before doing so, I had followed her in, picking her up bodily, though she was soaked to the skin, and dragged her out again. I then attempted to set her down, only to have to throw her over my shoulder to keep her from running back toward the bar, for "just one more shot."
Somehow, though I'd packed away the better part of a bottle of whiskey myself, I'd managed to get both of us across the (now wet) tiled floor to the elevator without further incident.
"You ben'jee, put me down!"
I chuckled slightly as I shifted her weight on my shoulder so I could brace myself against the side of the elevator car. "I would, if I didn't think you'd try to climb the walls and exit this thing through the ceiling!" I punched the button for our floor as she kicked her legs in an attempt to throw me off balance. Which, incidentally, was why I'd braced myself against the wall in the first place.
"I would never do something like that!" She was pounding her fists half-heartedly against my back now, which only managed to make me laugh outright.
"Oh, really?"
"Of course not! There's no tactical advantage in that, because I'd have no where to go once I got up there," she slurred.
My eyes rolled toward the ceiling of their own accord as I tightened my grip on the squirming human, silently urging the elevator to go faster. Doesn't matter where you are on this damn station; all the elevators run at exactly the same speed.
Apparently dissatisfied with the lack of results from her previous attempt to dislodge herself from my shoulder, Shepard changed tactics. I found myself suddenly startled by small, human fingers playing across my fringe. I jumped slightly, but recovered quickly, and reached back with my free hand to swat at her wrist. The whole time, I refused to take my eyes off the changing numbers on the floor indicator. "Stop that," I hissed irritably.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?" Even drunk, she couldn't resist a good movie quote. Her tone was one of almost lazy amusement as she tried to dance her fingers out of range, only to have them smacked thanks to my long reach.
"Of course not," I lied, echoing her words from moments before. "It takes much more than that to distract me."
Though I couldn't see it, I could practically feel her sly grin as she said, "I think I just heard a gauntlet drop."
Before I could respond, the elevator stopped on our floor. The doors hadn't even parted fully as I stepped out into the hallway, looking down the hall to the left first, then the right as I did so. I stopped in my tracks when I realized I couldn't remember which rooms were ours.
Shit.
Was mine 314 or 341? God damn that Invictus swill, messing with my brain. . .
I was about to ask her if she could remember where we were staying when I felt the hem of my shirt being lifted and blunt fingernails scraping lightly across the back of my waist. I yelped at the unexpected sensation that action evoked and nearly reeled backwards into the now-shut doors to the lift. At the last possible moment, I twisted, and managed to avoid squishing Teandra by landing sideways against the vertical metal surface. Hard. A feminine giggle reached my ears before it was muffled by what I assumed was her own hand covering her mouth to stifle it.
Giggling? Teandra did not giggle. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
"You're going to pay for that later."
More giggling. "Is that a promise?"
"And now I'm ignoring you."
"Aw, poor Plate-Face. Letting a puny little girl get the best of him!"
Making good on my word to ignore her, I pushed away from the wall and stood on increasingly unsteady legs as I tried to push through the alcohol-induced fog to find the information I needed.
I remember now. 314 was mine, because someone wouldn't stop making comments about the irony. Looking at the plaque on the wall indicating what rooms lay in which direction, I set off down the left-hand corridor.
Thank the Spirits for hand-scanners.
And Spirits, that metaphor just went somewhere horrible.
The room was just as I'd left it. A good thing, because my tipsy brain was further addled by the continued (and escalating) advances of my partner. What in the hell have I gotten myself into? The sparring matches, heated though they had gotten, I could handle. Her obviously provocative banter, I could handle. I could even handle her little show downstairs, since I was ninety-eight percent sure the alcohol was to blame.
But her normally flirtatious manner coupled with her trying fiercely to get a, uh, rise out of me? (The Spirits take her for introducing me to the phrase "double entendre.") Her working so intently at pushing that self-control I was so proud of? Not so easy to dismiss. She was a dangerous little thing, and I was starting to wonder if me being in charge of saving her from her own vices was Shepard's first attempt at building a "house in the Invictus jungle." Friendship or no, I wasn't enough of an idiot to deny the physical attraction between us, and drunk sex with your best friend never ends well. This, unfortunately, I knew from past experience, both personally and anecdoteally.
Past experiences aside, however, if she kept fucking touching my waist we were going to have a problem. What made it worse? She probably had no damn idea how sensitive that area was to turian males. So, ironically, she was accidentally screwing with my head in a way she couldn't have on purpose, mainly because it wouldn't have occurred to her to touch me there. After all, it hadn't come up in the sparring matches.
I weaved around the mine field of discarded clothing and armor on the floor of my temporary quarters, heading for the adjoining door that led to her room. That had been Shepard's idea, as she'd felt the close proximity was a better tactical decision in case of attack. While it seemed perfectly logical to me, it had been challenged by Tali, since Kaidan was on the fourth floor. The quarian had found that fact quite amusing, actually, considering our talk about "influences." That might explain why she was off keeping Joker occupied, much like Liara was tending to Kaidan's needs. I guess the was something to be said for drunken female solidarity.
And of course, since the Spirits seemed to enjoy making my life difficult, the adjoining door was locked. From her side. Riza.
I briefly considered just breaking the damn thing down, but the image of security busting in to find her sopping wet and drunk in a turian's quarter's squelched that urge. That would not be good for her image at all. Or my as-yet non-existent arrest record.
"So, you gonna put me down now? Or are you enjoying groping my ass right now? 'Cause I sure am." Another giggle, which I was starting to think of as background noise, found it's way from between her lips. Frustrated by the obstacles at every turn, I dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed, considering my options as I looked at her.
There was no getting around it. She was soaked, and sleeping in wet clothes would invite a drop in body temperature, which couldn't be good for her health. That, and I didn't want my bed getting wet once she managed to calm down enough to sleep, since I wasn't a huge fan of the cold myself. She was going to have to get out of her clothes. Damn, did I actually just think that? With timing best suited to comedic scripts, I looked down at myself to realize that I was soaked, too. Damn it. This was not good situation at all.
I can't believe I'm about to say this. "Teandra, we need to get you into something dry. You're going to freeze half to death."
"HA! I knew I'd get you to undress me in the end, Garrus."
I planted my face in my hands, taking a few breaths to steady my nerves and my hormones. I heard the springs creak as Shepard jumped up and rushed the door with a laugh, heading to Spirit's knew where. I wasn't waiting to find out. I reached an arm out, blocking her as I snatched her up and redeposited her on the bed. Crossing my arms, I sighed in exasperation.
"Teandra, will you please stop trying to get away? You're making it very hard to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do about all this." I gestured at the room in general, indicating the whole situation.
Her smile could only be described as sultry as she laid back on the bed. She then stretched her arms over her head, a move that caused her to expose even more of her abdomen as she said, "Well, if you need instructions, I'm pretty sure I can oblige. I would have thought you had more experience with that, though."
I swear, she keeps this up, I'm locking her in a closet somewhere until she's sober. "Will you please shut up?"
She rolled over onto her stomach and laid her chin on the heel of her palm, eyes cast upward as she appeared to mull something over before saying, "Hmmm. . .nope. Not gonna happen."
I threw my head up in exasperation, a moment of inattentiveness she exploited to make another break for the door. Again, I caught her just before she reached it, this time yanking her backwards by the wide, white belt looped through the waistband of her pants. This drew her back flush with me, giving me a chance to grab her wandering hands and pull them to her sides. "You're worse than some of the perps I've chased over the years, Teandra. And I'm starting to think you deserve similar treatment."
She looked back at me over her shoulder as she quipped huskily, "If you treated them rough, you're on."
That's it. I spun her around to face me and shoved her back toward the middle of the room. "I'm done playing. Out of those clothes and under the covers. And no remarks about anything remotely sexual."
She pouted, and I wondered if she was going to try to make for the door when her face split into a grin. She began removing her shirt slowly, making the action seem like an extension of her display from downstairs. The mantra of 'this is a bad idea' was playing through my head in earnest now. Especially considering the fact that my eyes instantly latched on the undergarment she was wearing.
Her sparring outfits would, on occasion, involve a top that left her midriff exposed, something she called a 'yoda' top or something. This...whatever it was she was wearing, looked like someone had taken that and chopped off most of the material. Joker had it wrong. Green wouldn't be nearly as good a color as the silver. In fact, it looks kind of like turian skin coloring...STOP thinking about that. Focus, you drunk ben'jee.
Focus, however, was becoming more difficult as she reached down to unbutton her jeans.
"Wait. You can keep those on."
"Oh, no. Jeans retain moisture quite well. They need to come... off too." She tried to play it off as slurring, but I wasn't so inebriated that I missed the slight hesitation at finishing that sentence. Now I know what the human term 'vixen' means. I also knew that my willpower wasn't doing so great. Remembering all too well where our last sparring match had ended off wasn't helping, as was the realization that consent probably wasn't going to be a problem, either, under the circumstances.
All of a sudden, I regretted my little comment to her about Alenko and rape, because it was pretty obvious that forcing her while under the effects of rum wasn't an issue. In fact, I was pretty sure if Udina showed up to give her a piece of his mind right then, she'd be trying to jump him.
That mental image was way more than I wanted to envision. It was disturbing enough that she apparently decided I was too distracted, as she locked her gaze with mine while slowly unbuttoning her pants.
I can't watch this. I knew it was stupid, and it would piss her off, but I turned my back on her in order to avoid any further teasing she might attempt. She is SO going to owe me in the morning I thought.
At that moment, I felt a cool pair of hands encircle my waist, tugging at my shirt-band again. "You made me take mine off. It's only fair if you take off yours, Officer Vakarian."
I thought I had iron control when it came to these sorts of situations. Teandra was making me realize just how wrong I was, and I hate being wrong. "Take your damn hands off me, woman. I'm warning you."
"Or what? You're gonna spank me for being a bad girl?" she said coyly.
"Don't tempt me." I swear, she should not have know turian triggers so well. She really shouldn'thave. I yanked away from her touch, turning and backing up to escape her reach. As if of their own accord, my eyes took in the fact that she had managed to remove her jeans before drunkenly assaulting me. Any attempt to avert my eyes failed as they kept jumping back to the silver, matching undergarments. Turian women don't wear those. Wonder if they serve an actual purpose, of if they're just there for the sheer visual effect. As if she could read my thought, or maybe because of my hasty retreat from her touch, she laughed.
"Little girl's getting the better of you again, huh?"
"You know what, Teandra? You're just damn lucky I'm such an honorable man. That's all I'm saying."
"And what if I told you I wished you weren't?" She stepped forward, forcing my back against the wall as I mirrored her. She chuckled as I pulled up short. "Your clothes are just as wet as mine. Off." The look in her eyes made it very clear that the state of my clothes had very little to do with why she wanted them gone.
Okay, time to change tactics. That was how she and I always operated, after all: Adapt and overcome.
"Fine, I'll make you a deal, little Spectre. I'll get undressed once you're in bed. That's the deal. " The nickname was meant to remind her of who she was with. Maybe there was a way to break through her mental view of this whole crazy situation.
"Nope, you first."
I rolled my eyes, "Fine, but only the shirt." I wish I could say it was all for the sake of compromise, but I had very practical reasons for the deal being that way. The whole damn scenario was embarrassing, but worse was that in spite of all my denials, it was also arousing. The idea of what she would do if she realized she'd managed to get beneath my plating?
I did not want to go there. Period. I complied with her half of the demands, but apparently not fast enough for the siren in front of me. As my top cleared my shoulders, during that brief moment when I couldn't see her, that's when she started fighting dirty.
The first thing I noticed was a warm sensation tracing it's way up a spacing in my chest plating.
Huh? That sneaky little... I tried to back up farther, only to remember the wall was in my way. I finished removing my shirt, looking down hesitantly to figure out what the hell she was doing. Red hair, still wildly mussed from getting her into this damn room, was the first thing to fill my vision. The next thing was her eyes watching for my reaction, something that I found weird in and of itself. Let's just say that partner satisfaction is not on the average turian woman's priority list. But the one thing that caught my attention completely was her tongue running delicately along the edges of my plates one by one, and in spite of the complete and total alienness of the sensations, it felt damn wonderful. That small, soft, pink organ became the full focus of my attention, a fact that did not escape hers, if her throaty chuckle was any indication. She teased her way upward, and I allowed myself to enjoy the (comparatively) innocent direction her actions had taken.
She's not running through the halls naked, and she's not trying to cure Kaidan's migraine with sex. All in all, you're doing pretty well at this caretaker thing... a thought that was interrupted by her hands at my belt.
Okay, maybe not.
As much as I'd like to claim I was completely immune the her charms, I'd have been lying to myself if I didn't admit that for a minute, I actually considered it. Seriously considered it. It lasted until she moved her mouth upwards as her hands struggled with what was apparently an overly complicated buckle for her normally nimble fingers. She tried to kiss me, and the action caused me to realize we were both in over our heads.
The strangeness of her trying to imitate the moves she'd have taken with a human lover made it quite clear neither of us had any idea how to make this work, or if it even would work. We didn't even know if we were physically compatible, or if there was some quirk about dextro/levo that we weren't privy to...
Nothing was worth the possibility of losing her, be it to complicated emotions or accidental, irreversible physical harm.
Now to try to explain that to her. That should be easy. Right.
"Teandra, you need to stop." She ignored me, or maybe she didn't hear me. I placed a taloned hand on each of her shoulders, gently pushing her away and looking her in the face.
"Stop. Now. I mean it." I don't know if she responded to my insistence, or maybe the authority in my voice, but something broke through just enough for her to realize what she was doing. Problem being, she still didn't care.
"But, why, Garrus? Why should we stop?"
"I'm not going there. It should be enough that I'm saying, 'No.'"
Her hands balled up into fists, which she (thankfully) rested on her hips, tilting her head slightly as she glared at me. "You're a damn tease, Vakarian. If this is how you want to play it, I'm going to track down Liara."
So much for ditching her 'Chicks dig me' t-shirt, I thought, not sure if wanting to strangle my best friend was the healthiest of thought processes. At that moment, however, the urge was nearly palpable. As she moved towards the door, still barely clothed I might add, I made a decision.
"Get your ass into that bed, Teandra. Now." She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around slowly, grinning at me as she moved towards the king-size four poster. "Change your mind, did you?" I didn't respond. She laughed, obviously thinking she had me beaten. I followed as she crawled up onto the mattress and sprawled out on the bedspread much as she had a few minutes before, looking up at me demurely. She was determined to break me, wasn't she?
Well, not today, little girl. Not today.
Need to make this convincing... I thought, moving to follow her. I straddled her, not even attempting to hide the bodily reactions she'd elicited in order to cement the idea in her head that she'd won. I moved upwards, allowing my talons to caress up her arms, causing her eyes to close as she enjoyed the sensation. Then...
Click. The metallic sound of my oft-abused handcuffs closing over her wrist and the bedpost at the same time instantly snapped her out of the moment. She looked at me.
"Kinky, Officer Vakarian. What else you got planned?"
"Nothing except a shower." And I walked away, leaving her there in hopes she would be passed the hell out by the time I got back. Not as good as a closet, but it'll do. Now for a cold shower.
Mercifully, as I exited the bathroom, she was. The fact that she had the ability to appear completely innocent in slumber after everything she'd been up to? Well, that, was irony for you.
Briefly, I considered trying to find my way into her room to sleep, but the mental exhaustion of the evening coupled by the last of my own drunkenness decided the sleeping arrangements. I threw on just enough clothes for propriety's sake, lay down next to her, and realized I was about to make what could potentially be a fatal mistake.
She never went anywhere without her switchblade. The fact that I hadn't seen it even in her semi-nude state didn't mean shit. It was on her somewhere, and I had to figure out where. Granted, there were only a few places it could be hiding, but that still meant I was going to have to paw around in places that I'd been adamantly trying to avoid previously.
Do I really need her switchblade? It's not like she'd ever actually hurt me, no matter how badly I'd screwed up... A mental image of waking up with it at my throat made that decision for me.
I lifted myself up on one elbow and leaned over her, trying to figure out where to search first. Logically, it would have to be somewhere that she could access in a hurry, should she find she feel threatened. So. . .
If I never have to do this again, it will be too soon, I thought as I reached between her breasts while trying to avert my eyes at the same time. A small, happy whine from her as I hit something sensitive caused me to jump. Definitely too soon.
I quickly withdrew my hand from no-man's land and tossed the offending weapon into the drawer of the nightstand. I felt her shift behind me, and for fear of her finding some way to slip the cuffs, I rolled back over and draped an arm across her slight frame as I drifted off to sleep.
Groping your drunk best friend: worst, or best, way to end the night ever.