Harediarcha - The box of paraphernalia used in family ceremonies, passed down through the maternal line.

Mensacra - The short table and two stools used in traditional turian ceremonies such as the naditatem and bonding ceremonies.

Samitaregia - A guiding light. A light to illuminate one's path. The praela used such lights set into lanterns to guide warriors into battle, and then through the dark curtain of death.

Caris - Beloved, precious

Derra - Wife. Female bond-mate.

Verro - Husband. Male bond-mate.

Dilan - fiancee

54 Days ASR

"You looked breathtaking today."

Shepard smiled as the soft, cherished voice of her husband spoke from the door. She didn't turn, the smile deepening with the sound of each footfall as he approached. He leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck and shoulder, textured mouth plates exciting her skin into a tingling, goose-pimpled bundle of nerves. A shuddering sigh escaped as she turned to brush her lips against his cheek. Leaning into him, she savoured immersion in his heat envelope and closed her eyes. "Your … our … mari is a genius with needle and thread." She pulled away a couple of steps and twirled, glad that they hadn't taken the time to change. The skirt ruffles flared, and she giggled with delight. "It's just the most beautiful dress."

Dizzy, she stumbled over to balance herself against Garrus's desk, another giggle escaping, much to her mortification. "I haven't twirled since I was … nine or ten."

Garrus chuckled and walked over, pulling her into his arms. "Pretty sure you haven't giggled since long before that." He wrapped himself around her, so strong and warm that she just melted into him until the dizziness eased back, and she could stand on her own.

Bending, she lifted the panels of both their robes, staring at the little Citadel with the Normandy sailing across the foreground that Trea had embroidered into both. Sweet baby Jesus, in a hundred years or two hundred, members of the Vakarian family would be getting married in the robes, she and Garrus a part of their day just as his ancestors … his parents were a part of theirs.

She smiled up into his eyes. "And this … it's just amazing, Garrus. And to think if we have daughters or sons, their story will be embroidered into it next to ours."

He opened his mouth, but then his mandibles did that little, helpless flail that told her that he couldn't find the words to express all the emotions that idea … the idea of his children … prompted. So, instead, he took her hand, and drawing her close, reached out to caress her cheek. "What do you mean if?"

Her grin widened as she leaned back in his embrace. "Okay, when we have daughters or sons." Head jerking back with surprise, she shuddered and slapped her fingers over her mouth, groping at her lips with their tips, searching as if trying to figure out where the words had come from. "Sweet baby Enkindlers, I didn't just say that, did I? Who is this woman using my voice to talk about having kids?" One brow creeping toward her hairline, she glared at him, the heat that sharpened the stare originating deep at the center of her. "Are you mind-controlling me, Vakarian?"

Garrus's stare darted side to side a few times before his brow plates and mandibles lifted into a comical mask of shifty-eyed denial. "Ummmm … who me? No, never."

Laughter bubbled, breaking the surface like wishes escaping a well. "Very reassuring, thank you." A long sigh breezed between them as Shepard let herself forget the fact they raced toward another vanished colony and slipped into the welcoming waters of the moment. "Collectors and Reaper interruptions notwithstanding, it's been a beautiful day."

Garrus rumbled his agreement and happiness through his subvocals, the sound burrowing all the way down into Shepard's gut. Loving talons whispered along the angle of her shoulder as he said, "Let's get you out of that very beautiful dress." When she nodded and stepped back, he unclasped the opalescent chains holding her bonding robe closed, then set them over on top of the harediarcha, which sat on the desk just behind her. He lifted the robe off her shoulders, then hung it up. When they'd run out of the house in their wedding attire, Trea had threatened death and pain if they destroyed the five-century-old robes.

Running her hands down the front panels of the black robe, Shepard traced the gold embroidery with her fingertips. "Which one is your parents?"

Garrus lifted the panel, feeding it through until he got to the center of the right panel. He pointed a small cityscape embroidered in amazing detail, right down to tiny windows in the buildings. "It's the street where my father met my mother." He pointed to the one beside it. "My father's parents met playing hideth turram. She broke his first ankle." That little depiction was much less neatly stitched, but clearly one turian taking the legs out from under the other in a tackle.

"It's as good a way as any other, I suppose." Shepard chuckled. "At least that way he can't escape." She unhooked the clasps at either end of the coillasi holding his robe closed, setting them beside hers. She let him remove the robe, not wanting to drag it over the floor, but as soon as it hung from its hangar, her fingers set into the fasteners down the front of his suit.

"You looked very handsome, today," she said, laying the tunic open. And he had. The moment she caught sight of him through the windows, her heart had stopped, stilled by the sight of her two beautiful torins standing there, waiting for her. Slipping her hands inside, she slid them along his lowest plates, closing her eyes as she savoured the smooth heat of his hide. She looked up into his eyes, the skin between her brows knitting into a frown. "Have I told you that I love you in the last ten minutes?"

Letting out a deep, dramatic sigh, he shook his head. "It may have even been a couple of hours."

Feigning horror, she gasped. "I've been remiss." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Well, I love you, just in case you've forgotten in that time."

His talons reached around behind her, untying the ribbon lacing down her back. "Glad you cleared that up." He lifted the dress, waiting for her to raise her arms over her head before slipping it off and carefully hanging it up as well. When he turned back, he reached up, cupping her neck between his hands. His gaze wandered over her, his expression one of near-wonder. "I want this war to be over," he said, the words such a low whisper that she scarcely heard them. "I want to be done with obligation and deadlines, and just disappear somewhere … just you and me and Nihlus."

A soft smile of understanding spirited across Shepard's lips, as wistful and filled with weary hope as his words. Sighing she pressed in, fitting herself against his body. "You're still wearing far too much clothing, by the way."

"Easily remedied," he replied, removing his tunic, then tugging the light, white dress shirt out of her grip and over his head. "There, better?" he asked, his arms holding her close.

Shepard pressed her ear against his chest and nodded. "Much." After a second, she let out a soft breath. "Do you know why those lilies were all over when I died?" She felt him wince away from the question, but just held him tighter. "Anderson filled my hospital room with them after Mindoir. He said they were called Madonna lilies and were a symbol of purity, and faith … sacrifice, and redemption, and hope. They're my favourite flower because of that."

She pulled away just far enough to meet his eyes. "That's why I was surprised and happy to find that one in your room on Omega, even though I figured you didn't know the meaning." She lifted her hand to caress the length of his mandible. "I sort of see it as the symbol of us, and the hope that one day the sacrifices will end, and we'll be allowed to live in the hope, redeemed."

He moved in, but she ducked his embrace, dropping her fingers to the fasteners on his leggings. "Enough time with far more than enough between us." Making quick work of removing them, she helped him step clear and laid them over his chair.

"Time for the sexy parts," he teased, stepped around her to pick up the harediarcha.

"Callor," Shepard spun and caught his hands as he picked up the carved box. "I need to give you my wedding gift before we settle in to do anything that might leave me with blue streaks down my face for the next couple of months." She smiled and guided the box back to the desktop. "Come and sit with me?"

"Of course, but let's put the coillasi in the oil first." He released the box, and opened it, removing the clay jar of oil that they'd prepared with the crushed herbs after breakfast. Shepard stepped up beside him, watching as he poured the oil into an earthen bowl that shone with a gorgeous patina that could only come from ages and ages of use.

Garrus lifted the fine chains that had held his robe closed and lowered them into the bowl, then nodded for her to go ahead, which she did, submerging the slightly thicker chains from her robe.

Shepard grinned and dipped her fingertip in the oil. "Infusing the symbols of our bond with who we are and the wishes for our future." She rubbed her finger and thumb together, the sense of connection tunneling all the way down to sink and anchor in her soul. "I love that."

"Okay." Taking her hands, he led her to the side of the bed and sat. "I'm all yours."

She nodded toward the center of the bed. "Can I sit on your lap?" She flushed a little as she asked. "I don't want anything between us."

"Of course, but that means we'll have to get rid of these." He tucked his thumbs into the waist of her panties and slipped them down off her hips. Shepard balanced herself with her hands on his smooth, tightly muscled shoulders, closing her eyes to savour the calloused, gentle touch as it caressed down her legs, then lifted one foot and the other.

As the contact vanished, a thick, heavy longing settled in her stomach, her entire body … her bones aching with it, and she wished for a quick resolution to the war as well. So many possibilities, so many lives and hopes and options waited out there for them. The Reapers had made a very large mistake coming between her and that future with her torins, because having gotten a taste of it, she wasn't going to allow them to deny her the rest.

Garrus moved farther up onto the bed, then held out his hands, steadying her as she stepped up and settled herself on his crossed legs.

"Much better," she said, wriggling a little to find the sweet spot. "Okay." She clasped his hands in hers. "So, when you told me about the whole wedding gift tradition thing, I did a little thinking." A bright grin met the smart ass gleam that sparked in his eyes. "And, yes, it was painful … and okay … fine … smoke was involved."

His chuckle added another layer to the thick envelope of intimate comfort that suffused the room.

"There's nothing I can give you that can compare to the love of your family … our family." Her lips began to tremble even through her smile. Taking a deep breath, she managed to relax the slow tightening in her throat. "So, I talked to Mordin, and he put together a package of all the information and samples … everything we've collected from Sovereign, the Protheans, and the Collector base on Thessia and sent it to some of his contacts on Sur'kesh who are researching Corpalis Syndrome at the Helos Medical Institute. A Dr. Jelith Kieron was very excited about what we sent him, and practically jumped the light years to Omega carrying his team on his back."

Garrus stared at her, mouth and mandibles slack, eyes shining.

"He's probably already on Omega, because he wanted to see the space the labs were going in and design his environment accordingly." She reached up to take her husband's face between her hands, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she felt his mandibles trembling against her palms. Now for the bad news. "He says Mari is too far along to put much hope into curing her, but he thinks that if his treatments work as he believes they will, we can buy her a couple more years." She pressed her lips together to still them, licking away the sudden slickness. "But it could lead to a cure someday for other families … for our family, sweet baby Jesus forbid."

A single shake of his head answered her as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight, his face tucked in under her jaw.

Shepard's arms snaked around his neck in a loving hug. "She'll have to stay on Omega for a while, maybe even a year, but … we're going to be there … Sol will be there … we'll just have to ship Pari to Palaven for his meetings." After a couple of minutes, she pulled away, taking his face between her hands again. "You okay, Callor?"

He nodded and sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "A little overwhelmed, but I couldn't be better." Pulling her in, he pressed his mouth to hers, answering her with all the joy and love in his kiss. "Her treatments weren't working the way her doctors hoped, so this … ." He kissed her again. "Dear spirits, I never believed this feeling existed." He pulled back to press his palm over her heart. "Thank you, Kahri."

She sighed and rested her brow against his. "Well, it's a pretty selfish gift, considering it's as much for me as you and Nihlus, Pari, and Sol, but I just fell in love with her. She's so amazing that the galaxy needs her in it for as long as possible."

He nodded and sniffed. "It really does, and I need her. I need to make up for all those cycles of being an idiot."

She hugged him tight again. "We'll make them an apartment in Building One, bring in all the furniture and things they need. We'll give them both offices with a QEC between them, whatever staff they need. Maybe even give Pari his own ship so he can come and go as he needs."

A wonderful, timeless silence wrapped them tight, neither of them moving for long moments, loathe to break it.

"I have something for you as well," Garrus said at last, his voice muffled by her shoulder. "Sort of a variation on a theme." He leaned back across the bed to rifle through the pockets of his tunic, returning with a tiny package that he placed in her palm. "I didn't know about the symbolism of the lilies when I made it, I just knew you liked them."

Shepard's heart suddenly decided it needed all the room in her chest, squeezing the breath out of her lungs. "You made this?" Thumbs caressing the wrapping, she just stared at it, trying to remember the last time anyone had made her a gift. It would have been when she was a child.

"The gift isn't the paper," he whispered, his voice rolling with gentle teasing. He nuzzled her ear. "You're allowed to unwrap it."

"Aw, and it's such lovely paper." She shrugged then grinned so broad and happy that her cheeks ached with it. After kissing the end of his nose, she said, "I'm not sure you can top it." Unfolding the wrapping, she exposed a … necklace? Setting the paper down between them, she lifted the chain to reveal a lovely pendant hanging from the lowest part. She looked from the gorgeous piece of jewelry to meet Garrus's eyes. "It's beautiful, Callor. Put it on me?"

Gentle talons took the necklace from her hands and placed it over her head. "The chain is made from the same shell as our coillasi, so should never break." He grinned, mandibles flicking. "Just don't try to use it as a rope to swing through jungles or over ravines or to tow broken down Makos."

Shepard laughed, and slung an arm around his neck, leaning in to touch brows again. "There's a very real danger of all those things, so thanks for the warning." She lifted the long, delicate pendant, surprised at its solidity. It looked like a lily petal with the intricate runic writing of the closed dialect cut out of it in an elegant, stylized pattern. "What does it say?" she asked.

Garrus pointed to the first group of symbols. "This is me, this one in the center is you, and this last one is Nihlus." A noisy breath whistled through his nose. "The entire thing is the ancient turian symbol for light, but this time it's the word samitaregia, a guiding light … a light to illuminate your path or bring you home."

Running talon over the clear, hard surface, he leaned in, pressing his brow to hers. "I cut it out of one of the petals from the lily I kept during your funeral, and it's hard because it turns out there are chiastyllia everywhere, even Omega. I just thought my intention, reached out in case, and they came."

He let it fall between her breasts. "It resonates at a very specific frequency that I can pick up anywhere in the galaxy." He lifted his wrist to show her his omnitool sitting in its port, ordinary but for a small fixture of crystal nested into the side.

Shepard frowned and leaned back, her hand returning to press against his mandible. "Garrus?" Was he worried about her vanishing? No, the idea reached deeper than that. A vague shadow teased her, darting in and out of the light too quickly for her to grasp it. Being lost … .

You were lost for a long time, Janey. A long time dwelling in the dark, calling out for a single ray of light. For them.

A sigh tumbled from his mouth, the sound an admission of sorrow and secrets kept. "In your dreams …" His mandibles flailed a little, the distress and pain behind his reason for the gift, stabbing into her like thousand needles, flechettes drawn through her to lodge in the magnet of her heart. "... you call out, lost and afraid, searching for me and Nihlus." He pulled her tight. "Now, you don't have to worry. There's nowhere you can get lost that I can't find you."

"Oh, Callor." She lifted into him, kissing him softly, passionate, but a passion springing from love and that very light he spoke of. Samitaregia … her two guiding lights. "Thank you. It's the most beautiful thing." She nestled in against him. "I suppose we need to move in order to get to the sexy bits of our night?"

He nodded, but then turned to lower his legs off the side of the bed. Supporting her backside with one arm, he stood. "There, now all you need to do is lower your feet." He chuckled when she shook her head.

Shepard squeezed his waist, her legs gripping tight. "I want to stay right here for … oh … about forever. Would that be all right with you?"

He shrugged. "Sure, that won't be awkward in battle. You can deafen me shooting over my shoulder, and I can paralyze you, pulverizing your spine with the kickback on my rifle."

Shepard let out a quick huff of a sigh, then nodded. "Okay, sounds good." After another couple of seconds, she kissed him, just a hard, luring press of lips, and dropped down to stand on her own feet. With a toss of her head, she spun on her toes and marched to the mensacra sitting in the middle of the cabin floor. Before she even got three steps, a long arm slipped around her, stopping her dead as Garrus stepped into her, pulling her tight against him.

"Where are you going dressed like that, Captain Shepard?" he said, his voice a thick harmony of subtones that reached all the way down into her, burning deep in her pelvis like the warmth of a strong drink. Melting into that arm, she shook her head, her heart pounding too hard, her lungs too suddenly breathless again to answer.

Completely vulnerable and completely at ease, feeling completely safe. She leaned into him, swallowing hard past the lump of love and gratitude in her throat. She couldn't remember feeling that combination of things. Maybe she had as a child, but the batarians had washed those memories away.

Garrus's arm tightened around her, that sixth sense of his pulling him into sync with her. "Do you need help sitting?" he asked, just enough cocky tone threaded through the words to let her know that he understood exactly how he affected her.

She elbowed him without any sting, her admission, "Yes," dragging out, slow and begrudging. He chuckled and nuzzled her ear before helping her sit on the low stool. She watched him sit across from her, her eyes drinking in the ease and grace of his movement. He'd been surprised by her ability to dance earlier, but no less than she. He moved like a jaguar, lithe and strong, a ferocious sort of grace to his movements that had her body insisting on jumping him right there. Miranda may have saved them both from an embarrassing turn of events.

She grinned, a wicked, mischievous grin that sent one of Garrus's brow plates heading for his fringe.

"What is that gleam about?" he asked, opening the harediarcha and taking out the covered mortar containing the leftover ink.

The tingling heat in Shepard's groin caught fire. "I was just remembering how amazingly sexy you were during the cohamentum."

As he dipped a very short bristled, sharp-edged brush into the ink, he chuckled and shook his head. "Stop trying to distract me. I've never done this before, and I don't want to leave your face some sort of abstract work of art."

"Heaven forbid." Shepard leaned in, forearms on the table, pushing her breasts up and forward. "I wanted to just throw you down right there, crawl inside your clothes and have my way with you." She laughed as he fumbled the brush a little in shaking talons, spraying a thin line of blue dots across the table and her arms. Taking pity on him, she eased back and laid her hand over his. "All right, I'll stop teasing."

"Thank you. Although … " His greater height allowed him to lean all the way across the narrow table to nuzzle his way up her neck, nipping her lightly. "... you were incredibly sexy yourself."

The heat of his mouth, the soft drag of his teeth over her excited skin coaxed a long, low moan from her that felt as though it originated in her gut. "Just get the damned familia notas drawn on, husband, before I attempt a sitting high jump over this table, and we both end up covered in that ink."

"Yes, ma'am." Settling in, his mandibles held in the rigid concentration formation that approximated a human having their tongue caught between their teeth, Garrus obeyed her order, making far shorter work of colouring in the markings than she would have thought from his hesitation.

"Guess all that painting paid off," she said, her tone teasing, even though her brow drew down into a thoughtful frown. "Why haven't you kept up with your art, Callor? I didn't see any in your apartment on the Citadel, or on Omega."

He shrugged and wiped out the mortar with a couple of tissues. "It didn't seem like a priority. I have always had a lot of work to do."

Shepard shook her head. "That's crap. Why? You clearly loved it." She set her jaw and an eyebrow, unwilling to let him get away with dodging or deflecting.

He shrugged and put away the inking supplies. "It wasn't a priority, that's all."

She reached out, the repeated lie stabbing an icicle straight through her gut, and grasped his closest arm with both hands. "Callor, love … tell me the truth." When he turned back to face her, she captured his hands in a strong grip and waited.

"My father came home one weekend, and I hadn't solved his mystery for the week." He gripped her hands right back, thumbs brushing along the first bone in her hands. "I was angry with him, because he'd stayed at work the weekend before and missed … " He cocked his head, a deep frown falling over his face, a cloud that made her twitch, the urge to lean across and kiss it away almost too strong to deny.

He shook his head. "... something, Mari's declaration day, maybe. Anyway, he came home, I was angry, and went out to my favourite place to draw and didn't come back to the house until after my curfew." He lifted one of her hands to his face, pressing her palm against his cheek before leaning into it.

"How old were you?" she asked, her voice barely audible. Spirits, the wound from his father's absence dug so much deeper than she imagined and had festered so badly over the years. Even though the past couple of years had healed the surface, that wounded child still hid away in there somewhere.

Another shrug. "Twelve. He was furious, said my art was a waste of time and not something a proper turian would spend time doing when they needed to concentrate on being a productive member of society rather than a drain."

Shepard released his hand and moved the table off to one side, then scrambled up to kneel in front of him. "That must have hurt like hell."

He tugged her into a hug, pressing her along the right side of his keel. "As much as I'm sure it hurt for me to have shattered our game, and stayed out rather than coming to see him." He shook his head again, but that time as if trying to shed water or strands of cobweb. "I just put the art away after that, and concentrated on getting ready for the academy, playing turram … the things good turians did."

"You know, he'd take that back that night just as quickly as you would if he was able," she said, pulling back. She reached up to test how dry her face was, but Garrus grabbed her hand.

"No touching." A smile pushed back the momentary clouds. "You'll smudge." He nodded at her stool. "Get yourself back over there, derra. Now we get to the sexy bits."

Shepard clambered back onto her stool. "About time. I love all the tradition, but it needs to have a lot more sexy bits."

Garrus set the table back between them, then brought out the bowl of oil. He held his hand out for hers, placing her arm on the table elbow down, hand up when she surrendered it. Dipping his talons into the oil, he came out with one of the fine chains.

"These are carved all in a piece rather than being linked together, and are meant to never break, never be removed." He wrapped it around her wrist twice, then fastened the clasp. Smiling, he watched the oil drip down her arm, only moving in to smooth it over her skin when the little rivulets stalled.

When the oil had soaked into her arm, he pulled out the other coillas and positioned her other arm. "They're a tradition at least fifteen thousand cycles old." He wrapped it around her wrist. "Back when they were first introduced, they were a means of identification. In the case of war or disaster, they could link each person back to their clan, and even family, by the different designs of the links." He took her arm between his hands, his touch and voice soothing as he massaged the oil in.

As Shepard watched his hands glide over her skin, steel grey and glistening, the touch firm but oh so gentle, she couldn't help but recall the way he'd taken care of her hands after she'd smashed them up that first week. From the very first, he'd just stepped up, deciding that he'd take care of her. Back then, she could have never imagined them ending up where they were. Thank the sweet, sweet baby Jesus for the things unforeseen.

When he finished, she took his arm, guiding it into the same position. The chains only wrapped around his wrists once. Watching the oil run down his arm, following the lines of plate and hide, she shook her head, the day … her entire life … suddenly losing its solid edges, reality softening into mist. Husband … a dilan … her mother and sister being found alive … being brought back to life by an evil empire … where did it all turn into some ridiculous story?

"Kahri?"

She met his eyes, concern darkening and deepening the love she saw there.

Shrugging, she traded arms. "It's been a lovely day." Rubbing the oil into his hide, she smiled. "Full of surprises." When he encouraged her with a cocked brow plate, Shepard replied, "Lucy and Bunny came into the room while I was getting dressed. Bunny didn't say anything, just sat on the side of the bed, but when our eyes met in the mirror, she nodded." Shepard frowned, trying to put the feeling that had passed between them in that moment. "It was … I don't know … like she was saying that we were both okay. I think I owe Martin a really big hug."

A muted rumble of agreement rolled from his throat. "He took good care of them while we were gone. The doc even released Bunny to live in standard quarters and train with the recruits. She still goes in for counselling every day, but she seems to be turning all that rage into something constructive."

Shepard nodded. "I think she'd be a really good addition to the Sanctuary project once we find somewhere to start it." She pulled his talons over to press kisses to each one, then to the chain encircling his wrist. "These look striking on you, verro."

"Never thought I'd wear them," he said, voice almost too soft to hear. "I thought I'd be the old C-Sec officer trying to ignore the whispers during his retirement ceremony about how sad it was he didn't have family to enjoy his retirement with." He grinned, sudden and wide. "And now I'll be the one they drag kicking and screaming into retirement so I don't have to go home and spend all my time with my impossible, ornery mate."

"Hey! I represent that remark!" Shepard protested, smacking him, the tough hide of his arm stinging her hand.

"Yes, yes, you do." Still, chortling, Garrus eased his hand from her grip, and moved the small table over to the end of his bed. Standing, he moved his stool, then reached down. "Come, derra, you know they'll have to kill me to keep me from you." Gripping her hands, he helped her up and pushed her stool out of the way with the side of his foot, all without breaking eye contact. Shepard remained pliable, allowing him to shift her out of the way, her hands falling to her sides when he released them to pull the duvet from the bed. With a strong flick, he spread it out, letting it drift to the floor, then held his hands out for hers.

"Now, nothing but sexy bits," he said, his words caressing her with loving humour. He sat cross-legged and helped her onto his lap. Once she settled, he trailed his talons down her neck and along her collarbones, his eyes trained on the path they traced. His first digit traced the edge of one of the wounds. "I didn't think to ask if the oil would hurt you."

Shepard nodded. It could well sting a little. By the end of the day, the sealant wore thin along the edges, but spending the entire day dressed in soft clothes had prevented them rubbing as raw as usual. "Where you rubbed it in from the coillasi feels fine."

He dipped the talons of his right hand in the bowl, the left cradling her wrist, the tender part turned up. First nuzzling the skin as if apologizing in advance, he smoothed the oil on, rubbing it in along the inside of her forearm.

Shepard waited for a sting that never came. In fact, quite the opposite. "It's actually numbing the pain a little," she reported, shrugging. "Looks like all systems go." She wrinkled her nose, drawing in a deep breath. "It smells a little like my bath last night."

Garrus pressed his face to her wrist and inhaled, a fond smile spreading across his face. "Mari. The oil has torpen cortis in it. It's an herbal analgesic that isn't included in the normal variety of herbs provided for the guests to choose from."

Shepard leaned in and kissed him. "I sense Karin's influence in here as well. Although, she must have had a tempering influence, or I'd be tranq'd." Glancing over at the bowl of oil, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, trapping the corner of it. "Are we both supposed to be using that?"

Garrus's hands slipped around her neck, his talons gliding over her shoulder blades and down her back. "Yes." He nuzzled just below her ear. "And you know, turians need to have oil massaged into their hide every other day or it dries out, so … ."

Shepard dipped her fingers into the bowl, and rubbed her palms together before smoothing it down her verro's neck. "So between the two of you, I'm going to have the best conditioned hands around? Not to mention the happiest hands around." Before he could answer, she tipped her pelvis to brush against his plates. "You know, there's one thing that could make this just that little bit sexier."

Chuckling, Garrus pulled her into a deep, long kiss. "You're incorrigible."

She reached down, tracing the seam with a fingertip, easing her way inside to tease the silky hide of his sheath. "Hey, I have a whole lot of time to make up for." She slicked up her fingers again and leaned back a little to gaze into his eyes as her fingers trickled over his face. "You were right, you know … all those months ago. I just had to trust you for a couple of seconds." Moaning, soft and throaty, as his hands moved to her chest, his thumbs sweeping over her breasts, teasing the nipples. "And now … damn … all I want to feel is you … all over me and inside me."

"Right here," he whispered, his thumb sliding back and forth between the hard, ridges of bone in her sternum and the swell of her breast. "I think the entire evolution of humanity and turians came about just for this right here." Urging her to lie back against his arm, he bent down, talons and tongue all obsessing over her slick skin and soft flesh.

Shepard relaxed back, her head hanging, entire body turning to needy, aching clay under his touch. "I thought you wanted me to tell evolution you voted for human females to evolve carapaces?" she asked, voice breathless and lusty.

He lifted his mouth from her breast, his teeth drawing a soft moan as they raked the skin, their solid, gentle pressure providing a most delicious counterpoint to his nimble tongue. "I was a fool." Turning his head a little, he brushed her nipple along the length of his mandible, sending a heavy, sweet electricity singing down through her body to feed the fire at her core. Like a drawn bow, she pulled up, straining between the grounding points of his lap and his arm, as he buried his face in the hollow between her ribs. The rough hide of his mouth pulled long, soft oaths of pleasure as he nuzzled his way down to her navel, and she lifted … breathless and aching, straining to close the frustrating space between them. Too much air moved between their bodies.

Garrus pulled back a little, calloused palms caressing up her sides, the lush friction feeding straight into that fire even as she relaxed down onto his legs once more. He let out a long breath that whispered a lifetime of promises. "You're absolutely perfect in your softness." Strong hands lifted her, settling her in line with his plates, waiting for a sign from her before he slipped free.

She gave it in the form of a hard, helpless buck when the edge of his plates brushed against her center, her entire body grinding into him with an insistence that surprised her, and elicited a throaty chuckle from Garrus. Oiling his hands, he spread his talons at the base of her throat, flexing them a little so the sharp points just furrowed the skin. Careful to lift them over her wounds, he drew them them down her torso, leaving behind three searing lines of sensation that sent every nerve in her body straight into overdrive.

As his hand neared her sex, she lifted into him again, bucking softly against the contact. "Blessed Enkindlers, Callor, stop with the teasing before I explode into hormone confetti."

Pressing his hand against her overheated center, he teased the soft dusting of hair with one talon. "I'm almost tempted to see if I can make that happen."

Shepard dropped a slick hand to his spur, laughing brightly as he jumped beneath her, a heavy shudder shaking him from head to toe as her thumb slid along its length. "Oh yes, two can play that game, General, and I don't think you've got what it takes to beat me."

He grinned and leaned down, resting his chin between her breasts. "Is that a challenge, Captain Shepard?" His thumb slipped down to sit just above the 'make Shepard sing in fifteen octaves' button, tapping in a way that felt very much like a warning.

Fighting back her body's insistence that she respond to that touch, Shepard cleared her throat, a faint tremor pulsing through her, taking root in her pelvis. "Ahhhh … um, aren't we supposed to be doing the whole oil ritual?" she said, expression wide-eyed and guileless as she tipped her head toward the bowl. Pressing her lips together, she managed to set her expression into a mask of mild curiosity. "Yeah, pretty sure that was the next item on the itinerary."

Taking the game a step further, she twisted in his grasp, reaching out to dip her fingers into the oil. A loud, almost vicious sounding roar rumbled through her husband's second larynx, startling a sharp, effervescent bark of laughter as he pulled her into his arms. Garrus kissed her hard and deep, his passion snatching any thought of teasing straight out of her head.

"Sweet baby Jesus." Gasping into his mouth, she lifted into him, one hand clinging to his neck, the other sliding down his chest to the soft hide of his belly. Questing fingers slipped through the seam between his plates, finding him eager and ready, pressing against her palm. She wrapped her hand around him, the heel keeping him trapped while her fingers slipped along his length.

Damn, but didn't she want him with a strength near frantic.

Tongue dancing along his, Shepard greedily sucked up the handful of super-heated air that hung between them. Pulling back just far enough to untangle from the kiss, she pushed him back a little. "Lean back, verro." When he didn't move, she gave him another little shove, then leaned in, kissing along the groove of his throat, her body pressing into his until he was forced to brace his arms behind him.

Grinning, she ran her lip between her teeth, her stare meeting his with naked, raw lust. She'd never wanted to just leap on someone and discover the taste of every millimetre of him before the impossible, beautiful, magnificent torin pinned beneath her. She leaned right in, reclining against his chest as she kissed him long and deep, then reached over, soaking her hands with the oil.

"Let yourself go, verro," she said, her voice burrowing down into her chest, throaty and rich with desire. She shifted, sliding along his length as he eased free of his plates. "Mmm, much better." She grinned as he moaned, his head lolling back, his length gaining width as she trapped it between them, gliding slick and slow along the underside. Stretching out along him, careful not to put too much pressure on his sensitive bits, she reached out, oily hands shining as they smoothed over the length of his crest, then began to work their way down his body, exploring every centimetre she could reach.

When he panted, his belly heaving with each, moaning breath, she slipped him inside her. He pushed himself up hard enough to throw her back, strong arms catching her by the hips. She chuckled, the sound turning into a cry of passion and pleasure as he rolled his pelvis, thrusting into her. Hands returning to splash into the oil, they massaged and teased, their mouths locked together even as they crashed toward frantic, clinging orgasms.

Silent oaths passed between them, the ones that transcended words, as they lay tangled in one another's arms in a nest of pillows, the edges of the duvet carelessly thrown over them.

Shepard nuzzled into the tender spot just under Garrus's jaw. "So, we surface a couple of hours before Horizon?"

Her general nodded. "I've got everything I need right here."

(A-N: I was going to skip right to Horizon, but I couldn't do it. I had to give them their wedding night. :D Thanks and hugs and tasty snacks and cold beverages to all of you. You know I love you.)