Chapter 12

Anya felt a little disconcerted as she left Mordin's lab. She had wanted to check on the salarian again after they had made it back to the Normandy. Rather than speaking of his feelings, or Maelon's newly acquired data, she had been ambushed with a conversation urging caution in regard to letting Garrus into her bed.

She wandered towards the battery, dreading the possibility that Mordin had spoken to her friend before she could warn him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she approached, knowing that the conversation would be uncomfortable as hell either way.

When she arrived, Garrus wasn't at his terminal, instead he was standing down one of the side catwalks, apparently lost in thought, gazing absently towards the inner machinations of the gun. She made her way to him and he jumped when she took the spot next to him.

"Shepard!"

"Hey. Didn't mean to startle you. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just a little...distracted, I guess." He went back to his previous position, leaning on the railing and looking away. He seemed tense and closed off, and Anya felt her stomach sink.

"Me, too. Had an...interesting chat with Mordin."

"Yeah?" The turian winced.

"Yeah. He have one with you, too?"

"I can honestly say that I am intimately aware of what happens to humans going through anaphylactic shock."

"It's not pretty, but you don't really have to worry about that with me," she reassured him gently.

"Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

"Cerberus added some nanites that neutralize most things my body would register as toxic otherwise, even your...genetic material."

He scoffed at that and shook his head. "I just...spirits, Anya. What if we do everything right and you still end up getting hurt? What if those nanites don't work?"

"They worked fine when we kissed," she tried to reassure him.

"I...damn, that could have done it?"

"Well, yeah. There are small amounts of DNA in saliva, and it was fine. I didn't really think about it in the moment, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset about it after the fact."

"Well, yeah, but what happens when it's a lot of...genetic material?" He winced as he asked.

"The nanites react more strongly the more there is. Short of me getting hit with an EMP right before you get off, we're good."

"Why would you give me that weird, highly specific, mental image?"

She laughed. "Because based on their specs and programming, that's what it would take. I had EDI go over all of it with me. We're good. Really."

"Okay. Well, that's a bit of a relief, then."

"Only a bit?"

"Let's just say I have a newfound distaste for the words, 'perforated' and 'chafing.'"

"Christ, what did Mordin even say that had anything to do with perforating?"

"My talons could...perforate your...insides if we...tried certain things."

Anya blushed at the mental image of him behind her, arm around her, holding her snugly to him while his free hand started exploring between her legs…

"Why not just cut a talon? You could keep most of them sharp, in case of an emergency. If you wanted to try those things, anyway."

"Which one would I even cut?"

"It depends on what you wanted to try?" she hedged nervously.

"Well, with...with turian females...there's an...expectation for internal and external stimulation." He spoke carefully and slowly. "I just... I'm assuming that your people also...enjoy that?"

"We do. I mean, I do." She knew her cheeks were red.

"So, if I wanted to touch you the way you like to be touched, which one would you recommend?" His voice was lower now, and it occurred to her how close she was to him.

"Right hand dominant or left hand dominant?" She half-turned to face him, and she felt a surge of satisfaction when he copied the gesture.

"Right." He didn't pull away when she took that hand in both of hers and gently turned it so his palm was upward, then ran her fingertips lightly across it. Her caress ended when she stroked his right foretalon.

"This one," she said softly, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

"And what do you want me to do with it?" His voice had roughened, and her gaze immediately snapped to meet his. She smiled at him a little, and leaned in.

"Garrus, don't tell me you're into dirty talk," she teased, fingertips ghosting back down his palm.

"And if I were?" He closed his hand around one of hers and drew himself closer, until they were almost touching. Anya felt her pulse quicken.

"I suppose I'd have to say that I prefer showing to telling, but if you really want me to, I'm happy to explain at great length what I want you to do to me."

"Spirits, Anya…" The turian looked at her in a way that she could only describe as predatory, and her smile widened as she pressed herself against him and shifted so that she could murmur in his ear.

"What? You don't want to hear how much I liked having your mouth at my throat? Or do you not want me to tell you how much I'm looking forward to you, touching me everywhere, with nothing in the way? Mmm, I'll bet you wanted more buildup before I tell you that I can't wait to make you cum with my legs wrapped around your waist. That's it, isn't it?"

When she finally pulled back, Garrus seemed lost for words for a moment before he finally cleared his throat and found his voice. "Damn, that was…"

"Way better than reach and flexibility, right?"

The tension between them eased a little when he laughed. "Yeah, but, the be fair, that's a low bar, Shep."

"It really is," she said, smiling again before continuing, "I can definitely handle a little dirty talk, though."

"I'm not so sure about that. Your performance so far hasn't exactly been consistent," he teased.

"My performance has gotten exponentially better. Just imagine what'll happen when we finally get to the main event."

"And you're absolutely sure that you still want this?"

"Damn it, Garrus, I am sure. What is it going to take for you to realize that I genuinely want you?"

He shook his head. "I'm probably going to be skeptical until we get started."

"Why? You are smart and brave and funny and sexy. What about that doesn't sound appealing?"

"We just...see different things, I guess," he said quietly.

"Tell me what you see, then."

"When I look at me, I see a man who is angry and scarred and short-sighted. I swear, when you talk about me, it almost seems like you're talking about a different person. What you're saying make me feel nice, but that doesn't mean that I feel like I deserve it."

"So you see that you have feelings and make mistakes, and turning those totally normal things into dealbreakers in your head?"

"See, when you put it that way-"

"Also, I told you, I don't mind the scars. It's not just a krogan thing."

"I just…" He shook his head, and she sighed before slipping back in close to embrace her friend. He was quick to hold her in return, and after a few moments, she spoke.

"I like you, and I want you. Even if you don't see what I see, try to trust me, because I don't intend to start lying to you."

"Okay." His arms tightened around her. "I will try."

They stayed entwined like that for what seemed like an eternity before Anya pulled away reluctantly.

"I should go. I have reports to finish."

"That's fine, I have another round of diagnostics to run, anyway."

"Then more calibrations?"

He laughed. "I would like to point out that you are just as much a creature of habit as I am."

"You're not wrong," she admitted as she slid from his arms entirely, turning to face him as she backed towards the door, playful grin dancing across her lips. "Don't let your habits keep you from remembering to trim that talon, though."

One mandible twitched upward and she turned back towards the door, beaming when she heard him mutter under his breath, "Spirits…"