Running Silent:

Little Talks

…

An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

…

Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

…

"Shepard!"

The commander had barely stepped out of the airlock when she was accosted by a blue blur. "I'm so glad you're alright," Liara sighed into Shepard's shoulder, arms in a vise grip around her friend.

Shepard couldn't help but laugh as she reciprocated the hug. "It's good to see you too."

Her friend stiffened and stepped back, blue eyes going wide. "Goddess, Shepard, I didn't mean to assault you! I've simply been so worried about you after all the things I've been hearing." She motioned for Shepard to walk with her. "The crew abductions, your trip through the relay, and the attack by Cerberus all in such quick succession," she explained. "Even after your message, I was worried."

"We all made it out fine, Liara," Shepard reassured. She followed Liara down a few unfamiliar hallways into a room she'd never seen before. It was a beautiful lounge—spacious seating area, luxurious bar, shelves of real paper books—but it was utterly deserted, like the rest of Liara's ship. The Shadow Broker's life was a lonely one.

The asari directed Shepard to a couch before heading behind the bar. "It's just difficult watching you put yourself in danger and be unable to help," she said with a sigh.

Shepard leaned against the cushions and watched her old friend as she bustled around behind the bar. Liara had changed so much in the last few years. At first Shepard had been afraid that her friend had become completely consumed by rage and the need for revenge, but rescuing Feron seemed to have calmed that anger. Only afterwards did Shepard realize that not all the changes she found in Liara were bad. The skittish and nervous archeologist was gone, replaced with someone far more confident and reliable—a friend, not a scared girl in need of guidance. Shepard smiled as the asari brought the drinks over and sat down across from her. She hoped that with this older, more confident Liara, their friendship could be more than it used to be.

Liara crossed one leg over the other and took a sip from her martini glass. "So, I hear you want to talk business."

Shepard gave her a small smile, reaching to the coffee table to pick up her own drink. "I told my crew this was a social call. Chakwas put me on light duty this week," she confessed with a shrug.

Liara's lips pulled into a knowing smile. "Do you think they believed you?"

"Of course not," she said, now grinning. "Which means we just have to talk quickly before someone comes to drag me back to my cabin." She took a large sip of her drink, fully intending to finish it before she got caught.

"Speaking of being dragged back to your cabin…" The asari leaned forward, her blue eyes sparkling devilishly. "You and Garrus?" She laughed as Shepard groaned and dropped her head into her hand.

"Look," Shepard began, glancing back up at her friend. "If you don't ask me about Garrus, I won't ask you about Feron."

Liara let out a nervous laugh, blushing a faint purple. "Deal."

…

After she'd been caught working one too many times, Shepard's team took dire measures. They didn't confine her to her room, but Tali did disable her omni-tool and private terminal outside of the doctor's 'approved working hours'. Shepard didn't bother trying to fix them—everyone on the crew knew she didn't have an ounce of technical skill in her.

Her team took it upon themselves to babysit her nearly round-the-clock. It was usually Garrus or Tali, but no matter who was off-duty, someone would try to keep an eye on her. She, of course, would then try and find ways to escape their notice. It was one of the things that kept her entertained. Unfortunately, they'd managed to get EDI to help as well, and there was no escaping the AI.

There were, admittedly, a few upsides to all the time off. She'd won an absurd amount of credits from poker and Skyllian five, she'd tripled her score in Alliance Corsair, and she had more alone time with Garrus during that one week than they'd had since he boarded the Normandy from Omega. She learned that crewman Hadley had grown up on a colony farm like she had, that Goldstein and Hawthorne played vicious games of chess in their downtime, and that Tali, Ken, and Gabby told each other ghost stories when they worked late into the night cycle. Hell, she hadn't even known that quarians had ghost stories.

She cooked a midnight breakfast for herself and Jack and allowed Kelly paint her fingernails a respectable blue. She taught Garrus how to kiss, told EDI some new jokes, and let Mordin attempt to explain his latest experiments. But as fun as it all was, Shepard was still relieved when Chakwas cleared her at the end of the week.

The repair efforts had continued during her time off. Liara made sure they had what supplies they needed, Tali kept charge of getting everything done, and Miranda ran the ship with her usual ruthless efficiency. Shepard and Liara met a few times to discuss the future and agree upon a plan. Garrus and Tali were brought in, being Shepard's most trusted crew, and they eventually decided that Miranda needed to be included as well. The five of them held a long meeting in the Shadow Broker base, coming to a final decision about what their next step would be.

With Liara committing the Broker's resources to the cause, Shepard would go talk to the Citadel council. Either they would play ball or they wouldn't—in which case, she'd go over their heads to appeal to each government directly. The Normandy's crew would work their way through the galaxy, making alliances and laying groundwork for the inevitable invasion. It would never be quite that simple, of course, but as Garrus had once said, "An imminent and painful death has a way of motivating people."

Shepard wasn't sure she wanted to know how he learned that, but she hoped it would be enough.

Her thoughts roamed over all these matters as she moved through the CIC towards the cockpit. It felt strange to set this plan in motion, to walk through a ship knowing that she was the highest authority. Liara was her sponsor but not her boss, and what Shepard did with the resources and intel she was given would always be her own choice. Even as she went to see the council, she knew she was no longer under their thumb. They could choose to work with her or choose not to, but they couldn't control her.

Though it was a liberating feeling, it was also an uncomfortable one. She'd always had a chain of command to appeal to. There was no chain now, just her—and that was a heavy weight to bear. A part of her still wanted to go back to the Alliance, to the familiar and comfortable. But she had to do what was necessary, and that meant she wouldn't be returning to the Alliance—at least until the war was over.

More like never, she thought to herself. After this I'm definitely retiring.

"Uh, Commander?" came a voice. Shepard snapped out of it, turning to her pilot. She'd reached the cockpit without even realizing it.

Joker eyed her with an uncomfortable expression. "You going to stand there all day and watch, boss?"

"Sorry, Joker," she said absent-mindedly, running her fingers through her hair. "Are we on course for the Citadel?" she asked him.

"Nine hours to the relay, Commander," he answered.

She nodded at him and then looked to the blue orb next to him, a constant in the SR-2's cockpit. "EDI?" she called. "Have the entire crew gather in the CIC at shift change."

"Yes, Commander," the AI answered, calm and collected as always.

…

Shepard climbed the steps up to the galaxy map platform and looked over the sea of faces before her. She could have simply used the comm, but she preferred to speak to them face-to-face. They were her crew. Cerberus or not, it had been a punch in the gut when the Collectors had taken them. Each of them mattered to her.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here," she began. "As I previously mentioned, this is no longer a Cerberus ship. It is not an Alliance ship, or even a council ship."

She paused, taking a deep breath. "The mission we embark upon is dangerous, more so than anything you've ever done. We face the imminent destruction of everything we have ever known," she told them, and saw the fear etched into their expressions. "If you want to return home to your families or to fight this war on another front, I understand. When we reach the Citadel you will have another opportunity to leave if you wish. You should consider this carefully."

Shepard put her hands behind her back, pacing the small platform she stood upon. "Everyone on this ship must be fully committed to facing the reapers. It won't be easy," she told them. "This ship must be a bridge between species. We must be unafraid to lead or to do the things that need to be done," she said firmly. "But with you behind me, I know we can kick the reapers from this galaxy and into the next." A few cheers of agreement rose up from the crowd, and Shepard couldn't hold back a small smile.

"That said," she continued, "There are going to be a few changes around here." The crew looked uncertain, as she expected they might. "Miranda Lawson will continue to serve as the Normandy's executive officer. Crew matters and operations issues should be directed to her." She nodded towards the ex-Cerberus operative standing calmly by her private terminal.

After a long talk with Miranda, she'd decided to allow her to remain the Normandy's XO. Frankly, she was lucky Miranda even wanted to continue. Executive Officer was a shit job—Shepard knew it firsthand. But Miranda thrived in the small details it required while Shepard would have chafed under them. It was also a comfort to the crew, Shepard knew, to have some things remain the same. Miranda may not always be well-liked, but she was respected. This would go a long way towards keeping the ship running smoothly.

Next, Shepard's eyes found Garrus, who was leaning on the railing with no idea what she was about to ask of him. "I'm appointing Garrus Vakarian as my deputy commander in the field," she announced. Garrus gave a start, his eyes flying to meet hers. His surprise was hardly unexpected—in the years she'd known him, she'd never been able to give official appointments to her non-human crew.

It was unconventional, she knew, but while Miranda was exceptional at the work of an XO, Garrus was the one she trusted with the mission. If anything happened to her, she wanted him leading their team. She gave him the slightest hint of a smile before looking back out into the crowd. "That means that off-ship, he is second in command. If either Garrus or Miranda gives an order, I expect it to be followed without question." Her eyes moved over the crowd, ensuring the crew's understanding.

"Lastly," she added, "The position of chief engineer will be going to Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Everything pertaining to engineering or the running of the Normandy goes through her. Any other promotions and staffing changes will be announced as they come." Tali seemed a bit surprised at the appointment, but Engineers Daniels and Donnelly didn't. Everyone who had worked in engineering was well aware of Tali's skills.

"There will also be a few changes to standard operating procedures," she told them. "Hand-to-hand and pistol proficiency will be a requirement for all crew members. Non-combat crew is required to attend weekly hand-to-hand drills and sidearm handling classes in the cargo bay, taught by Deputy Commander Vakarian and myself respectively." The crew looked apprehensive at that—some of them had never used a weapon. But after being boarded by both the Collectors and Cerberus, Shepard was adamant that the crew be able to defend themselves.

"And lastly, in light of the stressful nature of our mission, I will be completely lifting the restrictions on fraternization." Looking around the room, Shepard had to admit that some of the crew looked a little too excited about this particular change. In truth, they'd all been breaking that rule already, so all that remained was to make it official. "What you do in your off-duty hours is your own decision," she told them. "But if it interferes with your work—or with anyone else's—you're off the ship at the next port." That was, admittedly, a little harsh, but she didn't have time for warnings and second chances when they were trying to save the galaxy.

From a look around at the surprised, excited, and whispering crew, it was obvious she'd made the right decision in saving that announcement for last. She spoke up one more time. "If you've got questions, come see me or XO Lawson. Dismissed."

She watched the crew filter back to their workstations, many of them stopping to chat on the way. When the CIC had begun to clear out, Garrus approached her. "Shepard—" he began, but she waved him off.

"Upstairs," she told him, and went for the elevator. Once in her cabin, Shepard sat back on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, watching Garrus pace the room nervously. After a few minutes of his ridiculous wandering, Shepard finally snapped. "Sit down, Garrus, you're making me dizzy."

He lowered himself stiffly, fidgeting all the while. After a moment, he finally asked, "Why?"

"Because you're a good leader and I trust you," was the short answer. It was immediately obvious that the short answer wasn't satisfactory to the nervous turian in front of her. She sighed. "Because if something happens to me, you'll get the job done. You proved your leadership capabilities at the Collector base. You're smart and loyal, and you understand the stakes. The crew knows and trusts you," she told him. "And so do I."

Garrus fiddled with his visor absently. "But aren't you worried they'll think it's…"

"Favoritism?" Shepard supplied. She shook her head. "Everyone on this ship knows your abilities either firsthand or by reputation. They've seen how hard you work and how devoted you are to the mission."

Garrus didn't seem comforted by this, so Shepard moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. She held his gaze firmly. "You're absolutely capable of this, Garrus. I have no doubt about it."

He seemed to waver slightly at her pressing stare, and finally gave her a nod. "I won't let you down, Shepard."

She smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "Never thought you would."

…

Shepard writhed upon the bed in the captain's quarters, chest heaving at the effort of holding in her moan. Long fingers curled and thrust within her in a practiced, steady motion, just enough to keep her on the edge.

Her blood pounded through her veins and pulsed in her clit, driving her wild with desire. She needed more. "Faster, Garrus," she ordered, but his fingers slowed their movements and pulled away. "Damn you," she hissed, propping herself up on her elbows to glare at him.

He ignored her anger. "I want to try something," he said. He leveled his face with her opening and gazed at her seriously, waiting for her answer to the unspoken question.

She blinked in realization of what he intended. "Do turians even do that?" she asked, cursing herself for not already knowing the answer. She should have watched the damn vids. "What about, uh… ingestion?" She blushed slightly.

"I admit, it's a bit of a kink for turians," he said, voice low. "Are you worried I'll bite?" Her breath hitched at the rumble of his voice. God, why did that turn her on?

His finger brushed softly over her as he waited for her consent. She would be lying if she said she hadn't dreamed of the touch of his long tongue. It seemed dangerous, and yet— "I trust you, Garrus," she said, and let herself fall back onto the bed at his mercy.

She felt him shift, and her body buzzed with anticipation. His hand stroked up from her opening to trace the sweep of her hip bones, settling both hands there to hold her against the bed.

He dipped into her carefully at first, testing the waters, but each stroke was more confident than the last. He tried a few different motions until he found one that made her gasp and buck her hips, and then he pulled back, looking at her and stroking her languidly with his hand.

He dipped his head forward and took one long, deep stroke. "You never told me that human women like to be licked," he rumbled, breathing hot upon her. His fingers returned to probe and tease at her opening.

"You never asked," she said between labored breaths. "You said you did—" She gasped. "—research."

He growled quietly and gave her a few rough licks with his tongue. "It makes me wonder what else you haven't told me, Jane."

She could feel herself getting wetter from the sweet sound of her name on his tongue. God, he could make her come with just his voice.

"Do you want me to pull your hair? Tie you to the headboard? Touch you in public?" With just the tip of his tongue, he flicked her clit. She moaned, squirming under him, and raised her head to look at him.

When those intense eyes of his met hers, she couldn't breathe. He pulled away, fingering her gently. Fuck. She couldn't take the teasing anymore. "You'll have to find out the hard way," she challenged.

He raised a browplate. "Oh, I know ways to make you talk." He delved into her with his tongue.

She cried out at the rough and gentle feel of him, his tongue slick with her juices. His lip plates pressed against her outer lips as his tongue stretched within her, hot breath upon her as he reached for that one sweet spot—

She cried out as the tip of his tongue tickled her g-spot, hips bucking up against his hands. He tormented her with teasing strokes. She whimpered, completely at his mercy.

A pleased hum emanated from him and vibrated against her. She squirmed, burning from the inside out. With a last flick to her g-spot, he brought her to a shuddering orgasm, pleasure rushing over her like the waves of the ocean.

When she came to, he was beside her, talons tangling in the strands of her hair. "Show me what you like, Jane," he said low.

"I will," she promised. "But you'll have to be patient."

He growled at that, but she simply smiled. Her mind was elsewhere already. "Now let me show you something I know you'll like."

Garrus let Shepard maneuver him back onto a pile of pillows, his erection rising high and ready from between his plates. She'd teased him before with fingers and tongue, but he had never experienced the alien sensation of her lips wrapped fully around him. Shepard had a mind to fix that, especially after the pleasure he'd just given her.

She smiled as she hovered above him him, and dipped down to lap him with her tongue. She took her time, committing to memory his alien shape, the bumps and grooves that made him different from the human men she had loved before. When he was strained and panting, she took him into her mouth.

"Spirits," Garrus rasped, his body stiffening. His fingers grasped at her sides, talons threatening to break the skin.

And she hadn't even begun to suck.

When she did, she was rewarded with a strangled gasp and long, vibrating moan. She slipped off of him with a small flick of her tongue, and gave him an impish grin.

"I won't be able to last long like this, Jane," he warned, his angular chest heaving with each breath.

Her response was a long lick from base to tip of his shaft. Her eyes sparkled. "I'll take that as a compliment." With that, she bore down on him once more with all of her vigor and intensity. True to his word, Garrus came hard and quickly. He shuddered beneath her as he flooded her mouth, talons scraping her skin raw. Shepard swallowed his seed, marveling at the alien taste and praying she wouldn't go into anaphylactic shock.

As he recovered she dropped down beside him, basking in the satisfaction of getting him off so spectacularly. When he finally looked at her with wide blue eyes, she couldn't help but laugh. "Got a new appreciation for human lips?" she teased, a smirk growing on her face.

"Sprits, yes," he breathed, glancing down at said lips before returning his gaze to her eyes.

He reached for Shepard, and her smile softened. His arms wrapped loosely around her until she found a comfortable position against his plates, then tightened to hold her close. Shepard closed her eyes, feeling happy and warm, simply glad to be with him.

After she'd been lulled into a peaceful drowsiness, she felt something shift against her lower back. She cracked open her eyes and glanced behind her, finding his long, blue-tinged member not retreating behind plates but growing again. Her lips quirked upward. "Turian stamina, huh?" she teased.

"Don't tell me I've tired out the great Commander Shepard," he murmured in her ear. She turned in his arms, looking forward to the promise of another round.

"Shepard?" came a voice from the comm.

The woman in question let out an annoyed huff. "What is it, Joker?"

"Fifteen minutes to dock, Commander. Just letting you know."

Garrus let out a frustrated growl as his girlfriend rolled out of bed.

"Goddamn Citadel," Shepard muttered, moving towards the shower. "Fucking council." Before she reached the door, she stopped short and looked back at Garrus. "You know," she said, a smile playing on her lips, "You're free to join me in the shower… if you think we can finish up in fifteen minutes, that is."

The turian was out of bed in an instant, taking long strides across the room and up the stairs. He took Shepard into his arms, backing her through the door and all the way into the shower. "Oh, I'll finish you," he said low, his face only inches from hers.

Shepard's expression bloomed into a smile, and she reached to turn on the water.

…

Garrus was eating dinner in the mess hall, waiting for Shepard to return from the Citadel, when the inevitable finally happened.

"So," Crewman Rolston drawled. "You and the commander, huh?" Across the table, he and several others were fighting shit-eating grins.

Garrus looked up from his meal cautiously. "Me and the commander what?" he replied, doing his best to sound innocent. For once, he was glad this crew was all human—another turian would have understood his subvocals far too well to believe the indirect lie.

Of course, this crew didn't need subvocal cues to call him on his bullshit.

"You know… doing the nasty?" Rolston wiggled his eyebrows as laughter rang out. "Knocking boots?" he added. "Docking your ship in her port? Firing your cannons? Popping the heat sink? Calibrating her guns?"

Garrus knew all was lost when even Rupert had dissolved into laughter from his place behind the galley counter.

He shook his head. "I'm not even going to pretend I understand how all of those things are supposed to mean sex."

"I fucking knew it," Rolston crowed, a victorious smile on his face. "It is true!"

When Garrus saw another crewman pass Rolston a credit chit, he decided this was a good time to finish dinner in the main battery. Damn humans.

…