A/N: Numerous and varied apologies for how late this chapter is. Life happened A LOT in the interim, but here it be! I hope you enjoy.

As ever, comments, reviews and so forth are loved and cherished.

Yours faithfully,

L.G.

Welcome Home

In which Shepard learns to share (a little), a story is told, and Mordin's gift causes consternation of an unforeseen kind

There once was and still is a saying that goes and went like this: 'Outside noisy, inside empty.' Shepard first learned of this phrase from Thane, who in turn had picked it up from some esoteric piece of literature and deployed it to counter her during one of their frequent discussions of combat tactics. It had come at her from the shadows, that phrase and Thane's use of it. When he'd said it she hadn't understood its relevance. Yes, they'd been talking about stealth, and that implied the need for silence, but what was the reference to empty insides for?

It took her a full hour to find her answer, and when she did she had to laugh at how blind to social cues - even really sodding obvious ones - she was when it came to Drell. The reference hadn't been keyed into anything they'd been talking about at all. Thane had simply been observing with wry candour that she'd been talking a lot more about a topic she knew very little about than she had been listening to the life-trained assassin who had, in his own classically modest words, 'some experience with infiltration'.

The sneaky bastard had sassed her, right to her face, and she hadn't even noticed.

This would not, and indeed did not, go un-returned.

Her retaliation had come that evening in the mess. Thane had settled across from her, as he often did in those days, his back to the partition between mess and walkway and a mug of tea before him to be enjoyed as she took her meal and chatted quietly with him. All was as normal for about ten easy minutes, the people around them coming and going as they pleased…and then...she struck. Reaching out beneath the table with a naked foot, she found a Drellish ankle and stroked…slowly...gently...her face entirely straight and her manner as engaged as ever with their conversation.

She didn't even blink.

Thane though? He'd given such a start - a muted though sharp jerk that, for him, was essentially the equivalent of her leaping up as if she'd been burned - and had moved his leg away before their eyes again met; hers dancing with suppressed laughter, his confused and off-put by the possibility of such a touch being given by someone other than the woman sat across from him. After a long moment of staring however, he read her eyes and watched her smile and...understood. Their conversation continued as if there had been no pause in it, and his ankle was returned to her toes.

Since then, there had been no talk of empty insides or noisy outsides between them. There had been more sassing, certainly, and more instances of toes being lent to an ankle in almost-but-not-quite-public places, but nothing of insides or outsides. Until now at least. In the here and now, over a year since that little moment and the remark that brought it on, said remark came back to the Commander as a bit of internal commentary on her situation as she stood in the elevator on her way up to her quarters. Truth be though, things were a bit muddled this time around. It was not the case now that she was all outside noisy with an empty mind. She was inside noisy in an almost silent space.

The noise however was not of an unwelcome kind; not like that which had bubbled over in the doctor's office – a year's worth of stress and worry finally loosed, in part, thanks to an immensely long day and the kindly woman's insistence on taking her mind to places it hadn't ventured, with her focus on the finer points of Thane's illness, in over that time. It was instead her quiet resolve to try and move past that stress and worry; to ease her grip on the ways she used to cope with it - be it the penchant she had for planning things out to the letter, the habit she'd made of hiding how hard she'd found dealing with the situation from Thane, or the endless other ways she'd found to deflect stress from him and onto herself to make things easier for him.

It wouldn't be easy, but nothing worth a damn ever was.

When the elevator slowed to a stop Shepard, replete with gifts from the doctor – a copy of Laksha and a blue sparkly balloon that Thane himself had blown up and that she hadn't, in her rush to leave, put down yet – strode through its opening doors. Although her quarters appeared locked going by the interface's robust and unwelcoming red, it opened to her as soon as she neared it and let out to greet her a haze of warm, dry air that carried a vaguely earthy scent undercut by what she knew to be the lingering wisp of expensive tea.

Walking in, she passed by the untouched boxes she'd left by the door prior to her departure and noted that the space was warmly though dimly lit; the settings for the usually harsh white fixtures having been tinkered with carefully until the desired effect was procured. The presently empty fish tanks on the left wall bubbled away to themselves quietly, their backlights dimmed into unobtrusiveness, and as she listened she detected occasional notes of a similar kind of soft, ambient music to that she recalled from her trip to the Drellish section of Bioware's earlier in the day.

Seeking the architect of this greatly welcoming atmosphere, Shepard called out, "Thane?" as she neared the steps that lead down to the sleeping area, though stopped with a caught breath at the sight that greeted her once she reached their top. There, on their bed, lay her mate wrapped up in their most favourite blanket; his head resting on a pillow he'd placed quite strategically to allow him to both recline comfortably and afford him the best view of the door. He was just beginning to sit up on his elbow to greet her, a smile of shameless affection curving his lips as a low and joyful hum echoed up from his chest. It lent the words he spoke to her a depthful timbre -

"Siha..Goddess but you are a sight for sore eyes.."

- and just like that her situation switched around to what it had been during their talk on stealth - outside noisy, inside empty – the noise coming from him this time and the silence again within her. As soon as she saw him - a wash of rich, green scales swathed in the deep grey of his high-waisted sleeping trousers and the blueish-purple of the blanket - as soon as she heard his voice - deep and echoing because of that low, bassy hum - her ruminations just plain winked out of existence. What replaced it was a little coil of what she was sure was the achievement of nirvana, and it was that, not conscious thought, that had her answer him with a joyous, frankly dumbstruck "Hi..."; that had her pitch both blue sparkly balloon and magazine onto the desk by her terminal and sent her down the stairs two at a time towards him with a gleeful, breathy exclamation that was half squeal half giggle. As he sat up to meet her she reached for him, halting his attempt at righting himself before it properly began. Their hands touched fleetingly, then their arms went about each other, and she sank down onto the bed beside him; mindful, as she kissed his lips and gently, playfully guided him over onto his back amid pillow and blanket, to keep her weight from pressing into his chest. Well or not, seemingly entirely comfortable or not, luck was not something that she would push.

They traded kisses, all soft and lingering to keep from sending her woozy for a second time, until the need for a full breath parted them and they drew back, but only barely. Only enough for that needed breath and for words they never thought they'd hear said to be so by Shepard, and echoed by a thought from Thane.

"Welcome home."

"Home?" he mused, smiling up at her as he stroked the backs of his fingers along the inside of her left forearm. The weight of his gaze imbued the, "Yes…" that followed with more meaning than its simplicity implied, and Shepard felt her little coil of nirvana uncurl all the more as she caught his meaning.

He's calling me home

Her chest tight with emotion, she repeated his confirmatory, "Yes" before asking through a slightly choked-up laugh, "Did I wake you up coming in?"

"You did not" he murmured, drawing her down a hint further and nuzzling the tip of his nose to hers affectionately. "I got all I could done while you were indisposed, and only laid down to rest about fifteen minutes ago." He gave an almost coy grin then, stretching mutedly and puffing out a long, supremely contented breath. The words he next spoke were perhaps a hint confident given the length of the day he'd had, but he'd stand by them; particularly since, in his current circumstances, standing by them entailed laying down beside, and indeed beneath, his mate.

"I am not weary. Simply comfortable."

She smiled and sat back a bit in response, glancing around quickly and noting that the cases she'd abandoned at her mother's call had been tidied away before returning her full attention to her beau and reaching with curled fingers to stroke the plates on his brow; singling out the darker one at his forehead's centre for special attention. Care was taken to outline it in much the same way she had hours back in the hospital during her period of Drell-induced light aversion, and those around it received a similar touch from the pad of her thumb as she spoke. "I can see you've been busy. Wouldn't have left the place in such a tip, but the call for the meeting came when I was halfway through unpacking."

"Such timing..." Thane mused, his eyes closing at his mate's loving ministrations.

"I know right" she huffed, affection warming her expression as she looked upon and caressed his restful face, her fingers moving with tender purpose now down the bridge of his nose. Her tone was soft and playful as she asked, "You sure you're not tired? You look it."

Thane's chuckle was more easily felt than heard as he reiterated, "Comfortable, Siha" just as playfully. Opening his eyes but leaving them hooded as her fingers moved on to the pleated skin on his left cheek, he asked, "And what of you? Has the day worn on you?"

"It had its moments, sure" Shepard offered. "Started off with an EDI-induced headache."

"Oh?"

"We had your welcome back party last night" she explained through a grin, managing a wry comeback when Thane asked with faux affront, "In my absence?"

"You did say you'd prefer an evening in with your books."

He chuckled deeply as the memory of his saying precisely that over the AICS came back to him. "And you" he replied, nodding towards the coffee table and the items atop it. "Are perhaps the most thoughtful woman alive."

Shepard followed his gaze, a puff of laughter escaping when she realised that the carefully arranged array of gifts she'd left for him had not only been found, but used. Quite suddenly she understood what the warm and earthy scent on the air was. Sand. Heated sand.

"You've had a bath" she beamed.

"I have indeed" Thane confirmed, looking every inch like the cat that had both caught the canary and got the cream in one sitting. "Your selections were masterful. I must thank you."

Cheeks pinking faintly, Shepard waved off the praise. "I'd still be in the shop now if the attendant hadn't come along and corralled me. Kehksi was her name."

"Drellish" he noted, the name being too singularly of his people for its owner to have been anything but.

She nodded. "Yeah. Sere Kehksi."

"Eera" Thane corrected smilingly.

"Sorry?"

"Sere is the masculine variation of the word. Eera is the feminine. The equivalent of Ma'm instead of Sir."

"Oh!" Shepard exclaimed, a quiet chortle escaping around the word. "Good job I didn't try and get all formal with her in person then, hm? What was it again? Say it slowly…"

"Ee..rah" Thane supplied, his pronunciation careful.

"Eee..rah.." she mimicked, brightening at the affirming nod her effort received. She was sure it wasn't perfect, there being nuances to Drellish speech that she couldn't hear let alone copy, but as long as her beau approved she was golden."Eee-rah Kehksi then. She was great. Explained things that I didn't quite understand at first and everything."

"Were there many?"

"More than a couple, but I got there in the end." She glanced back towards the table. "Was there anything I missed?"

"Missed?" Thane parroted, disbelief and mirth in his tone. "Siha, in the past I have made do with nothing more specialised than a scoop of sand, a bowl and a cloth warmed on a radiator. Your gifts so far outstrip the basic requirements of bathing that to add more…" He chuckled, his gaze warm and loving as she looked down at him expectantly. "You missed nothing...and are liable to spoil me."

Shepard's grin made the corners of her eyes crinkle. "There's more, you know" she said, another chortle bubbling up at the shock on her mate's face. "Not much more though, I promise. Just a few bits in the boxes by the door. Some eatables. Bathing oils. That kind of thing."

Thane matched her joyful exclamation with one of his own. "Truly, you have outdone yourself" he enthused, taking a gentle hold of her forearms as she took a hold of his. "Saying that I wish to repay you-"

She shook her head. He inclined his knowingly.

"-Will get me nowhere, I know. But you must at least share in the use of what you've brought. It is only right, until I've an opportunity to treat you in kind."

"Share?" she asked, her interest piqued, "I didn't think I'd be able to, honestly. Humans don't bathe with sand, and I'd swear I lost a layer of skin just looking at some of the types on display in that shop."

"Ohh you needn't use it on your own skin, love" Thane smiled, raising his brows as she did hers and glancing down to where her hands rested against his arms.

It only took her a breath to catch on.

"Now?" she pressed hopefully, the thought of helping her mate with a bath being perhaps the most pleasing one she'd had all day; and that was so even with her having learnt about the Drellish icon for 'Siha' and dwelled on the idea of giving him a massage - oil and all. To her chagrin, he responded in the negative -

"The next, certainly. I had hoped to share this evening's with you, but...alas."

- and drew her mind right back, with his allusion to her having missed her chance to assist him today because of her meeting-caused-absence, to the question of her day and the less than pleasant happenings within it. Her ingrained need not to share those things that stressed her with her mate made her briefly silent and newly tense, but she pushed on through; allowing the discomfort she felt about straying from the day's mundane aspects to show on her face. It wasn't much, but a year back her beau would've seen nothing but serenity.

"My day ran long, I know" she lamented, working herself up to face in open conversation those parts of her day that wore on her the most. "Longer than it should have. I...ahh...went to see Doctor Chakwas after my meeting. S'where I got the balloon from."

"I saw that when you came in, yes" Thane put in, renewed focus in his eyes as he listened to his Siha's words. Her dour turn bothered him, and prompted a question. "The visit troubled you?"

"I troubled me" she chuffed, averting her gaze for a brief moment and shaking her head derisively. "It wasn't the doc's fault. She was showing off the scan she took of your lungs when you were down with her. That and a table with numbers on it that mean you aren't sick. She wanted to talk to me about ways we could help you get better, and that was fine...but the memories that caught up with me as she was explaining things just..." Again, she shook her head, glancing back towards her mate when she felt him shifting beside her.

He sat up, collecting her hands in his in much the same way he once had across the table in the Life Support plant, and said, "I feel your pain, Siha" as he stroked gentle circles on her palm with his thumb. "Perfect memory can be a hellish burden for such things."

Her reply, "I know" was so soft it was almost a whisper, her eyes fixed on their hands. "I'm just a-" A careful tug from Thane drew her forward; brought her brow to his shoulder. "A bit...It's just a bit...raw…I'll be fine in a minute. Just need t-." A hitched breath stole her words and sent her burrowing into the embrace her mate moved to enfold her in. Her meaning though was not likewise stolen.

Just need a minute here

Just need a cuddle

Just need you

Silence reigned during the Commander's needed minute - a period of time neither she nor Thane deigned to actually quantify passing uninterrupted as the pain she'd swallowed back in the Medical Bay was allowed to show. Though it wracked her, even knocked a tear or two loose at its height, it was not as unbearable as it would've been had she been alone; her love's steadying presence - as well as the want to master herself and not sour the occasion of his return home with negativity - helping her to free herself from recollected stress and anguish, and to muster a reassurance for he who held her firm.

"I'm fine."

The words were wispy and tight, but still clear as she clutched at him. Much as they were an exercise in overstatement, she couldn't leave them unsaid; couldn't just wobble like this without at least trying to save face.

Thane's reply echoed faintly, low and undercut as it was by that rumble of his. "I know."

She huffed out a second choked laugh, sure he was just humouring her. "I am."

He nodded; his jaw gently lent to her temple. "And I am here."

This time the huff she gave in response was more her fighting the urge to weep for joy than remembered anguish. It was a losing battle at first, but with a little persistence on her part and Thane's unwavering support she managed to put herself back together enough that she was able to sit up and see to her face with a tissue he procured from his pocket for her.

After a blow of the nose and a wipe of the eyes, she mustered, "Seems like I'm always doing that", referencing their very first reunion and the tears she had then cried into his shoulder. "Sorry."

Thane shook his head, unwilling to hear apologies from her. "There is no fault in such a thing, Siha" he said, reaching and tucking a displaced lock of hair behind her left ear. The smile the gesture earned him began to ease his mind about how she was faring, and he spoke again after a slight pause in the hope of helping her settle further. "Might I share a story with you? It came to me as soon as I saw you this evening, your hands full and smile wide. I would see that expression again."

Shepard blinked curiously at the request. "A story?"

"The balloon you carried" Thane clarified with a nod. "It has a history."

A soft "Ohh..." escaped her, her smile warming a hint. "The doc told me that you use them for range practice. There's more to it?"

"There is" he confirmed, returning her smile. "It is not a new habit. It began a good number of months ago now while I was on one of my afternoon walks. They would take me all over the hospital, through bustling corridors and quiet spaces, and on this particular day I was feeling strong. Rested. I decided to lengthen the excursion I'd planned to take and pass by the Children's Ward."

"Did you go in?" Shepard asked, tucking her tissue into her pocket as she listened.

Thane shook his head. "No. I've no disdain for the young, Siha, but seeing them ailing..." His lips thinned slightly at the thought. "That brings me great discomfort. I merely thought to walk by on my way back to my quarters. Providence though had other ideas." His smile returned, kindly and fond, "An Asari, one no older than thirty years I'm sure, and quite small, was sitting by the open door of the dayroom adjoining the ward. She was surrounded by colouring pens and had a book of line-drawings open over her knees. The corridor was otherwise quiet as I made my way past, and I smiled at her faintly when her head came up and she focused on me. I'd have thought nothing more of her had she not abandoned her art materials and padded up to my side.

'Excuse me!' she called as she neared me.

I turned, curious. 'Yes?'

'I was waiting for a nurse to come past so I could ask them' she explained, sheepishly ducking her chin and shifting on her feet, 'but you came first.' She held up a hand to me, a crumpled object in its palm. 'A mother brought these in for us when she visited her daughter today, but I can't get it to go up. Could you...?'..."

An ache beginning low in her chest, Shepard asked, "It was a balloon, right?" Her beau's nod confirmed her guess, and she gave a quiet puff of touched laughter. "And you blew it up for her?"

"I was unsure, at first, whether I would be able to" Thane confided. "I still suffered breathlessness after prolonged activity at that point, and didn't want to succumb to a panting fit in front of her. I took my feeling strong as an indication that I should at least try however...and try I did." He smiled, modest but proud. "It took a few small breaths, but I managed it, and I've used them since as a rehabilitation aid."

The ache in her chest swelling with affection and pride, Shepard could do little but beam for the first few seconds that came after the close of her mate's tale. The dichotomy that was him - the life-trained assassin who was so gentle in many ways, particularly with children - was, as it had been often times in the past, patent to her then, and she spoke a loving, "If that wasn't the sweetest thing I've heard in months I don't know what is" as his smile turned from modest to warm.

"It was not meant to cloy, love."

"It didn't" she murmured, returning the delicate nuzzle of nose-tip to nose-tip he'd given her earlier before they shared a kiss. "Just caught me in my weak spot, that's all."

His brows rose. "And where is that?"

In answer she reached for him, touching a hand to his upper chest and giving it a tender stroke as she replied, "Right here." They shared another kiss then, Thane humming deeply and leaning to her for it, and Shepard's fingers moved further, appreciating the expanse of muscle she'd found and the slow, steady heartbeat her fingertips detected as they passed over its source. Intent on feeling more of him, she brought her second hand up, but as his hands in turn found her shoulder, her waist, and they traded yet another kiss, her fingers tripped over something...a roughness amid the sea of otherwise smooth scales. Curious, she eased back to take a look at what she'd come across, and instantly, on sight, went stock still.

It was thin still, like it had been the last time she'd seen it; so thin it resembled a paper cut...but it was there. Still there. The scar that split her love's chest down the middle. The scar from the surgery that saved his life.

As they had when first she'd seen it, her heart stuttered and her throat tightened, but this time...this time shock and relief didn't overcome her and bring her tears. She was able to look now, and as Thane's hands found hers, cupping them as they lingered on his scales, she was able to touch too. To feel it properly, and she did. Beginning at its topmost point, her fingers moved along its slender length so tenderly, so carefully, that had her mate been made of glass she wouldn't have left a fingerprint on him. Down then through its middle and on to its bottom-most end she went, her eyes and entire focus on it as she asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Although she didn't see it, fixed as she was on watching her fingers retrace their journey, Thane smiled at the question. "If I find myself in a cool environment for a protracted time, a dull ache may set in, yes. Otherwise though, now..." He squeezed her hands affectionately and met her eyes when she glanced up to his. "No. The bruising is long gone, and what damage was done by the operation has healed. And what's better…" Gathering her fingers in his, he moved her hands out over his chest and eased them flat against it, one on either side. "This." He took a breath...deep...slow...and so easy...so easy...in...and out. "Is likewise." And another…in…and out...and carrying with it a low rumble. "Painless."

Shepard smiled blissfully at his words, her delight inspiring in her an idea that turned her regard both loving and coy. She shifted a hint closer to her beau to push gently at his chest, coaxing him to, "Lay back for me", and he obliged gladly, drawing her down along with him as he relaxed back into both blanket and pillow.

Ever mindful not to settle upon him too firmly, pain-free or not, she tucked herself as closely to his side as she could without pulling her feet up onto the bed (combat boots had no place there regardless of her circumstances, and she had not even the slightest intention of moving away from her mate to remove them now) and touched her cheek to his chest. Entranced both by its texture and by the steady low thrum she could just, just make out if she strained her ears, she nuzzled there briefly before sitting up a fraction and observing the area from inches away; her fingers crawling up again to stroke the raised line that ran along its middle. From this close she could tell that it was slightly uneven, wider in places than it was in others, and, intent on enacted that idea she'd had, she shifted, leaning up on her elbow and over enough that she could kiss its very topmost point; retracing the path her fingers had taken with her lips.

A low gasp was her beau's immediate response, and she caught his eyes a moment and saw the affection in hers mirrored in them before she leant again, pressing a second kiss to the spot just below that which the first was given to, and a third just below that, and a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and more. She poured every ounce of her love for him into those kisses - giving it, in a sense, to the scar that was the only visible remnant of the procedure that saved him - to try and make how precious he was to her known in some small way. To show how thankful she was for having him still, and how much she truly loved him.

Her devotions continued right down to the scar's lowest point, and there she paused, her hands now either side of him, stroking his flanks with something like reverence; her weight on her forearms and brow nestling just below the spot where her final kiss landed. And she listened again, as her mate rumbled pleasurably and his hands moved to her hair, loosening the tie that held it back and discarding it when slightly band-kinked black locks tickled the scales over which her head was bowed. He made no move to coax her to rise, feeling as keenly as she did the import of what she had done - the affection and implicit acceptance of both him generally and the experience that gave him his most prominent and obvious scar conveyed by her kisses - and instead relaxed into the moment with her, stroking his fingers through her hair as she gathered herself.

Minutes passed with them this way. Comfortable, absolutely content minutes which were peppered with the feeling of warm breath upon scales and the undeniable Wholeness each other's simple presence brought with it. And then, a slight change.

Movement.

Shepard drew in a deep breath as she raised her head, lolling it back into her mate's hand as she met his eyes along his body. Neither spoke. There was no need to. Instinct led them both as they drew together, Thane pulling gently at his Siha's arms and tilting his chin back and to the side in invitation. The gesture was an offer, one which was given in Drellish culture by a gentleman to a lady who he wished to invite close enough that she might appreciate his colours, and also one which, through long acquaintance, Shepard understood. With an ease she didn't once possess she leant, resting her weight on her forearm and lingering close to the purposefully exposed area with her nose and lips; breathing in the familiar male Drell scent of his skin. She lingered there for a long moment, her mate's open hands stroking slowly along her back - appreciating the play of her muscles as she held herself above him - before easing forth enough that she could give the first pleat she reached a tender kiss.

Thane's breath hitched at the feeling, and a noise, half rumble half rasping sigh, escaped along with a word from somewhere low in his chest. "Siha-"

"Hmm?" she breathed, picking another pleat, slightly lower this time, and giving it a similar kiss. There was not a word in his reply, but she understood it as clearly as she would have had he spoken it. A deep, familiar resonance replaced the rumbling in his chest; one she could feel in her bones where she touched him and that drew from her a gasp, four words, "I love you back", and another spate of movement. She shifted far enough up alongside him that she could rest her weight bearing arm beside his head and lean, her free hand cupping his cheek, to take his lips in a kiss so soft and lingering that, like her touch upon his chest, it would not have left a mark upon glass.

This touch, this affection, was in honesty her favourite of those she and her beau shared. It meant. They all meant, of course, but this one always caught her with its implications more entirely than any other. It was such a gentle thing, so consciously, purposefully tender and so contrary to every outward manifestation of cool, entirely professional, martially competent 'Shepard' that it felt uniquely personal to her. To them. And perhaps most of all, above all of those equally worthy reasons, it had on occasion done to Thane's more amorous nature what a spark does to kindling. Shepard allowed herself a hum of approval as this thought came to her; as their second kiss became the third, and that the fourth and then, as they risked a deeper affection - lips opening to one another and tongues meeting to caress while Thane's hands spanned her back. Her own found his shoulders, solid and strong, and moved down over his upper arms as his fingertips skirted the very bottom edge of her t-shirt and began to dip beneath.

The request in the gesture wasn't lost on her.

A mixture of excitement and delight filling her at the prospect of further intimacy, she asked softly, coyly, and just to make perfectly sure after they parted for breath, "Are you flirting with me, Krios?" Her fingertips caught his answer, tracing his lips as they were - a kiss, and as they moved away to stroke his jaw, a smile and a look that filled her stomach with fiery butterflies.

Quiet laughter, breathy and touched, bubbled up within her then, and she spoke through a smile just as warm and inviting of him as his was of her. "Lemme just get my boots off and I'll be..." She drew in a breath and gave a nibble to her lower lip that her beau mimicked on his as he gazed up at her. Fixed on the gesture, it took her a moment (and a clearing of the throat) to finish her thought, "…Right back", and then, with immense reluctance, she moved away and swung her legs over the edge of their bed, leaning down to tend to her laces.

As it turned out however, 'away' didn't remain such for long.

She was halfway done with her right boot when she felt movement at the back of her; movement that turned out to be the precursor for arms coming about her from behind. Those same arms eased her upright, and a warm, open-lipped suckle was given, after a clever nose moved her hair out of the way, to the side of her neck. An appreciative hum escaped on her next exhalation, followed by words of a breathy and mildly wry order -

"I'll never get these off if yo-.."

- which were cut off by a hushed moan when another suckle was taken just above the first.

"..Thane.."

And then another followed that, just above it and behind her ear. A breath whooshed from her, and she swallowed hard, the fluttering heat in her tummy beginning to pool and collect in places that had, since they'd parted, known nothing of warmth. Nothing of need.

"..Thane.."

His response was a whispered, "Yes?" that was spoken quite literally a half inch from her ear; a half inch and a half breath before its lobe received the next of his affections - the gentlest little pull between his lips. Her spine nigh-on melted right there, but she managed words still...even as she arched her head back to invite her mate closer.

"The boots...two minutes..."

The gesture and what she said were at odds, and Thane chuckled affectionately, giving her neck a final kiss and lingering to breathe in deeply the clean, warm scent of her skin. He remained thus for a long moment, basking in the familiarity of that scent until, quite without his say-so, a memory from an earlier point in the evening came back to him.

- Her fingers are gentle as they trace my features and carry with them a faint, familiar antiseptic trace. The scent of Mordin's gift no doubt, dutifully applied per his instructions -

He thought little of it at first, reflexive comparisons of just that sort being one of the numerous ways in which Drell build up and reaffirm acquaintances with others, but as he took another breath...his nose and lips nuzzled gently against his love's neck...he noticed an irregularity between his memory and life.

The medicinal scent he had recalled was missing.

This required investigation.

"Siha?" he brooked, leaning around her right shoulder in the hopes of catching her eye. Her initial response was nothing more coherent than a string of vowel sounds, but she perked up a hint when he repeated her love-name.

"What is it?" she asked, canting her head around to look at him. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, love" he assured, before asking, "The salve Mordin gave to you. Have you applied it? I caught its scent on your hands but..."

Shepard was still a moment, her slightly desire-addled brain fighting against having to deal with thoughts that concerned people other than she and her beau. Quickly though, what he was asking sank in; sank in and drew from her a scowl of utter contempt and a disbelieving groan. "I did" she snarled, dropping her face into her hands. "But only on my hands, my forearms and my face. The meeting was called on the spot. I didn't have time to apply it anywhere else."

Thane chuffed softly, deliberately putting an unwanted foot of distance between he and his now quietly cursing love's body. At his move, the cursing grew a hint louder. Exasperation was Shepard in that moment. She turned pleading eyes on him, trying, "You don't have to st-", but he was faster.

"I do. I recall too vividly the consequences of spending an evening together without the ointment being used. Your skin has been so dry and irritated in its absence that it bled. I will not watch you suffer that again."

"But-"

"But" he put in quickly, tilting his head a hint and favouring her with a grin. "You have the salve, yes?"

Shepard blinked. "S'in the bathroom, yeah."

"It takes only minutes to apply."

"Minutes I'd rather spend with you!" she grumbled, huffing and starting back on the boot she was halfway to wrestling off. She knew he was right and that she'd need to soak herself in Mordin's most aptly given gift before they could really be at liberty to spend time in each other's intimate company, but that knowledge neither made her any less frustrated, nor any less likely to make a fuss about having to interrupt their canoodling to do the sensible thing.

For Thane though, frustrated or not, the sensible route was an easy choice. "I will not have you suffer for impatience's sake" he reiterated, budging not an inch on the issue as he watched her with quiet amusement. The first boot fell to her persistence, then the second, and he met her eyes and smiled as she straightened up again, her elbows huffily pressed to her knees and a deeply disaffected frown sent his way.

"I've taken much worse" she muttered, brows raised in defiance despite the fact that she knew arguing was pointless. Thane was about as stubborn as she was, and at his muted head shake she gave in and stood to make for the bathroom. She'd reached the door when he called to her.

"Siha?"

"Yeah?" she replied, looking back at him.

"When you have done all you can" he supplied, a familiar, long-missed promise in his eyes. "Bring the pot and a cloth out here. I cannot touch your skin to help apply it, but that doesn't mean I cannot help at all."

A grin of the mightily shit-eating variety curled her lips in response, and she winked at him before practically jigging into the bathroom, her delighted laughter muffled as the door closed behind her.

Perhaps this diversion wasn't going to be so bad after all.

And now!

Coming in the next chapter

Bed-mediated-reacquaintance

That is all.