The commander hated putting on a show for Aria, the relaxedness the asari had hoped she would find completely unobtainable when feeling as if she were being forced into doing something she really didn't want to do; it bothered her that the woman was so persistent in giving her suggestions concerning her personal life, the unrelenting prodding something that confused Shepard and frankly made her feel uncomfortable.

The commander didn't want any part of Afterlife, the club hitting a little close to home, but after a few more drinks it didn't matter. T'Loak's games were getting old, but snubbing the asari wasn't in her best interests, so she wouldn't.

It was…harmless, the club, the dancing, and she slowly found herself not minding it. She slipped into a rhythm with one of the patrons in front of her, close but not too close, not allowing the turian to think that she might be interested. She couldn't always be all business; perhaps Aria was right for pushing her.

Thane seemed to understand the symbolic importance of Shepard's staying, at least; she might have a little more fun, though, if she could just draw him out. She was good at cracking the reserved drell's resolve, sometimes at least, but she didn't think that tonight she'd be making any ground. He had been playful with her, a sign that he had noticed her distress and wished to calm her, but he still looked a fraction stiff, uncomfortable; Thane didn't want to be there anymore than she did, but he stayed, quiet and not complaining for her benefit.

Shepard batted away at yet another unwanted hand and merged in between two other people, one a dark blue asari and the other a human female, both obviously fucked up beyond belief on haelix; they were spacey, their movements strange and erratic, sexual to the point of being, ironically, unsexy. It disgusted her; it reminded her of Morinth as well as the days the commander herself had been less than wholesome, and she was suddenly very, very pissed off.

The asari had melded herself against the commander unexpectedly, a leg pushing itself in between Shepard's thighs, a hand reaching out for her and smoothing itself along a rib that her revealing clothing had left exposed; Shepard's face crinkled and she gripped the hand harshly, removing it from her skin as if it were a snake. She dislodged the asari from her, her treatment of the blue bimbo far rougher than it had needed to be.

Oh man, she'd had enough. Aria T'Loak could stuff it.

She shoved her way through the throbbing throng of people, knocking a few of them over in her rush, and wormed her way closer to the bar she had left Thane sitting at. Though the spot was within view, she saw no sign of the drell or the drink that she had purchased for him. A smile played at her mouth and as she waded through the crowd, she felt a pair of arms grab her about the waist.

She stiffened at first, the stranger's soft lips brushing cautiously against her neck, before she caught scent of him—citrus, coffee, leather—and saw the dark chartreuse pigmentation of his skin.

Shepard twisted around in Thane's embrace and grinned up at him, her arms winding themselves around his neck. She was mindful of the exaggerated collar of his jacket and his hands steadied at her waist.

Shepard pressed her nose to the ribbing that lined the hollow of his neck and inhaled. "Decide to join me, after all?"

His eyes closed and he held her closer, his voice both deeper and raspier than usual. "Perhaps," he paused and the ridges of his brow bowed downward. "I am…I feel very strange, Siha."

"Yeah, wow." She pulled back from him and cupped his cheeks in her hands, his skin hot to the touch, and gave him a once over. "You aren't looking so great."

There was something off in his expression and his eyes had a sort of sickly glisten to them—the commander felt nervous. He was probably just toasted. She held on to the thought that the drell had simply had a few more drinks than the one she had purchased for him.

Shepard chewed on her lower lip before gripping one of the hands that had been around her waist and tugging on it, the commander intent on leading Thane away from the dance floor. She was careful not to bump into anyone—the poor drell looked like he could puke.

He was obviously disoriented, and the more Shepard chanced a glance at him, the more she noticed the expansion of his hyoid bone. The skin of his throat was a shade too dark and it made her feel uneasy. She had no fucking clue what to do with an ailing drell, so she careened towards the unisex bathroom nearest to them and hoped for the best.

The lighting in the restroom was stark, the brightness unpleasant in comparison to the rest of the club's purple-hued vibe; it was harsh and it made Shepard's sweat-beaded skin look garish and unsightly. It took a second for the commander's eyes to adjust, and when she saw Thane's tightly closed, she knew the sudden contrast must have agitated him as well.

She guided the sickly drell over to the counter top and he leaned heavily against it, not saying a word, just looking all shades of perplexed and confounded. She turned on the faucet, cold water spattering out across her fingertips, and she was inconvenienced to see that the worn restroom was lacking towelettes or any other type of material she might use to soothe his fevered skin.

She let the fluid moisten her palms before moving over to Thane, patting her dampened hands against his textured forehead; he relaxed marginally in front of her and opened his eyes, his hands pressed against the countertop in order to hold himself up. The way he broke the silence was abrupt.

"You've never looked so beautiful, Siha."

A smiled tugged at her lips and Shepard still worked to cool his skin, gentle in her ministrations. "God, Thane, you must be really sick." Or drunk.

Really, really drunk.

The moment hung between them and Shepard felt surprisingly at peace—she searched his eyes and she wanted desperately to know what Thane was thinking. His behavior was odd. She was only thankful that he hadn't started vomiting. He caressed her cheek and smiled.

The sound of piss hitting a metallic urinal ruined the moment and Thane slumped against her, tugging her body closely to him and nuzzling into her neck. His tongue flicked out to tease along her sensitive flesh and without warning, he was suddenly all over her, his fingers kneading into her waist, her lower back, her ass; she fought to suppress a laugh—he was like an octopus, his hands everywhere at once, feeling and groping and cupping. Instead of giggles he earned gasps and the commander's ability to reason.

He pulled at her, trying to compress her even more tightly against him. When he pressed his need against her and began to unzip the front of her outfit, the commander stilled, the grip she'd had on his biceps firming as she pulled away to make eye contact with him.

"Wait now." Her breathing was heavy and she had to pause, a swallow bobbing its way down her throat. "Thane, not here." He interrupted her with a dry peck to the lips and she pulled back even farther. "You're not feeling well, remember?"

"On the contrary," Thane argued as his fingers teased at the commander's recently exposed belly button. "I feel…incredible."

Thane launched himself off of the sink and pushed at Shepard's shoulders, his persistence backing her into a stall; he pulled the door to a close behind them and the gruffness with which the drell had completed these actions almost would've frightened her if she hadn't have found it all so sexy.

Within seconds, he was on her again, and his fingers tangled in her hair as his tongue slid along her clavicle, the drell tasting the saline tinge of sweat on her skin.

Shepard had never seen the drell act so needy and aggressive; his manner took her off guard, but she had little time to think deeply on it—he thrust his tongue into her mouth in a way that was forceful and his hand wiggled its way through the thin leather of the slut suit she'd been cornered into. He squeezed her braless breast and she caved against him, her fingers digging into his leather adorned back, and she almost found herself laughing again.

She wasn't going to complain.

She certainly wasn't going to protest.

After Thane successfully peeled the suit off of her by its shoulder pads, she bounded onto him, which forced Thane to hold her full weight up by grabbing her ass; this caused him to slam into the stall door and Shepard braced her hands against it before wrapping her legs around the back of his hips.

Not missing a beat, he latched onto her mouth again with his, his tongue exploring her fully; he slid across her teeth, poked at her gums, and probed her mouth thoroughly. Her tongue met his and she stroked against the wet muscle with fervor, which tugged a hoarse groan from Thane's throat and caused him to buck into her. He shifted her weight in his arms and she held the back of Thane's head in her hands, her fingers caressing over the spiked ridges from crown to the base of his neck—her lips still worked against his with vehemence.

She knew they should probably stop. Thane wasn't himself, and if he wasn't drunk—well, she didn't know what the fuck had come ever him. Everything felt so dirty and she was a little buzzed herself, but it was really unlike the drell to get them into these sorts of situations. She kind of wanted to ride it out, but she didn't want to take advantage and—

He flipped them, his actions abrupt, and their kiss broke—this time Shepard's back slammed into the stall door. She gasped, the chilly feeling of metal against her flushed skin icy enough to raise goose bumps. Thane gripped her underneath a thigh and shoved most of her weight onto the door, and with his other hand, tugged off one of her boots, the spiked heel whapping sharply against begrimed tile. He only had to shift her slightly in order to repeat the action on the other.

Shepard wiggled her toes freely, a sigh of relief escaping her reddened lips—she was sure there were blisters visible on the bottoms of her feet and she felt a true sense of gratitude for the shoes' removal.

"Thanks," she whispered and pinched a little at the back of his neck.

He chuckled against the junction of her shoulder and neck and the vibrations from it sent tingles spreading throughout her body—her nipples hardened and she arched her back off of the wall, shivering, and the tinny taste of the chemicals in her mouth was indicative of the high brought on by drell bodily fluids that was well on its way to commencement.

Shepard closed her eyes tightly and inhaled, these actions her attempts at preparing herself for the euphoric wave of heightened senses that she knew was about to hit. The coldness at her back was suddenly very, very imposing, and for a moment, it was all the commander could concentrate on.

There was no stopping this now.

Thane's hands gripped at her hips and rubbed against her pelvis bone, the scales scraping against her skin creating a burn that sent sparks winding up her torso. The nerves along the skin of her stomach tingled and feeling prickled down her spine, and when his nails dug in, her hips convulsively rolled into him. His hard cock pressed against her center, and though the sensation was muted due to the leather between them, the high she was experiencing made the feel almost overwhelming enough to make her black out.

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck like Chinese water torture, only it felt really fucking good, and her jaw dropped—she was gasping and she felt like she couldn't get enough air, her unsteady breaths causing her tongue to cool and her mouth to dry. Her ears were ringing from too much noise though the sounds around them were quiet, and when she opened her eyes, spots danced before them.

Her mind was a fucking haze.

She bit her lip and Thane rolled his hips into her again, Shepard's arms flailing out and gripping blindly at the top of the stall door. She felt strange—her hair felt alive, like it was fucking breathing, and the feel of it against the back of her neck and the sides of her face was making her palms itch and sweat. Everywhere felt prickly and her skin seemed impossibly tight, and insanely, she wanted to shed it.

The first few minutes of the hallucinations were the worst—the toxin rapidly overloaded her nervous system before taming a little, allowing her just a bit more focus. She felt it passing and when Thane's movements against her started to feel like they weren't going to make her scream and cry at how good they made her, she calmed down.

Adapting to everything always seemed to happen so slow to the commander.

When Shepard could finally breathe again, she grabbed the back of Thane's head and tugged him down for another ardent kiss. He dropped her legs from his grip and her bare feet touched the cold floor a little delicately and if she hadn't been so turned on, she might have been disgusted at having any part of her touch the bathroom floor of Afterlife, but she was—and she was so wet that she couldn't keep patient for much longer.

She broke the kiss, her lips burning. "Goddamn, Thane," she rasped. "I need you inside me, fucking me right now or I'm gonna die."

The assassin kissed Shepard's dimpled chin before dragging his tongue up the line of her jaw, dropping a little to nibble at her earlobe. His voice was loud and gruff in her ear. "Siha…I am more than willing to…" His teeth sank down on tender flesh and she cried out. "Oblige."

Thane tugged the rest of the trashy clothing off of her, the commander now fully naked—she'd gone commando out of fear of panty line—and flopped the suit over the side of one of the stall walls before he worked to remove his own clothing.

His fingers were quick, deftly unbuckling and unzipping where need be. Shepard was sure her stare of fascination was obvious—in all the time she'd been intimate with him, she'd still failed to get the hang of taking off that complicated jacket.

The pants, though, she could handle, and by the time Thane had bared his chest before her, she had unzipped them and began tugging them down his muscular thighs. His torso was beautiful—black stripes zigzagged in exotic patterns across his demantoid hued skin, an intriguing patch of ribbing matching the color and texture of his throat leading downward and reminding the commander very much of a happy trail.

Thane finished the job, toeing off his boots and stepping out of the leather with grace despite his seeming drunkenness. The way he was looking at her caused goose bumps to flare out and spread on her skin and she trembled—she wanted to feel him against her, but she wanted him to make the first move.

He had started this, and she'd be damned if he wasn't going to finish it.

Thane advanced toward her and placed his hand at the small of her back to pull her to him; her sensitive nipples hit against the roughness of his chest and her fingers dug into his shoulders, the feel of it so overwhelming her toes curled. He squeezed her ass and she moaned, their lips colliding once more.

She wanted to cut the fucking foreplay and for him to just do it already and she cried out in frustration, the kiss breaking. Her chest heaved and she begged him with her eyes, silent communication something that they had mastered long ago. Thane complied and spun her around, abruptly bending her over. Her forehead bumped into the stall with force and a muttered 'ouch' escaped her already parted lips, and she belatedly shoved her hands out to brace herself against the door.

That the assassin wanted to fuck her in this position was strange—in all of the times she had suggested it before, he had promptly turned her down; he always used the excuse that he wanted to see her face and that it was too "impersonal" otherwise. She felt kind of concerned again, a nervous feeling erupting in the pit of her stomach, but when she felt the tip of his cock slide against her wet entrance, she found that she once again wasn't going to be one to question.

She was sure he was just drunk off his ass and all he needed was to get this out of his system and—

He sheathed himself inside of her with unrestrained force and without warning, every inch of him burying into her entirely. Shepard groaned and rocked forward onto her tiptoes, her forehead once again banging into the stall door with a thud. She cried out so loudly it strained her voice and she spasmed around him, the angle at which he'd entered her making her vision splotchy; she could feel him so deeply inside of her that she could feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach and it was all so good she was almost sobbing.

Thane was so fucking thick she could hardly stand it, the ridges and ribs lining his cock stroking her in all the right places, and where he normally would have paused and allowed her to adjust to his girth, he kept going, thrusting into her harshly, his fingers digging into her hips so deeply she was sure to have bruises.

She didn't care, she just wanted him to keep going, to keep fucking her; she was stressed out and rough sex was exactly what she needed.

Every time Thane pushed himself deeply inside of her, she choked out a sob.

"Siha," he groaned, his name for her posed as a question accentuated by an outward thrust.

Shepard inhaled before breathing out with a moan and then expelled a strained answer. "Yeah?"

"I want you to," an inward thrust, "cum for me," out again, "right now."

She jerked against the bathroom stall and tried to bury her face in it, a cheek smooshed against it, and her hands clung to it as if her life was depending on it. She gasped and fought for air, and when she finally got enough breath, the confusion in her voice was tangible.

"But, we're…" She paused to gulp for more air and groaned when he pushed into her again. "We're just getting started."

Thane's only response was to reach around her and trail a hand down her stomach, searching. When his fingers found her clit he rubbed against it in quick, jerky circles.

"Oh, god, no, fuck no, Thane, stop I'm, oh fuck."

Shepard's mind fell apart and she exploded, cries of gibberish mixed with swears and how good everything was ripping their way through her throat no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She was shaking and her legs were so close to giving out that she was sure that she would've collapse had Thane not been holding her up. He was relentless, still thrusting in and out of her at the same rate despite the intensity of Shepard's orgasm and she kind of wanted to cry.

She had the blurry thought that she was going to die if he didn't stop fucking her.

She had never seen this side of him, but she loved it. His movements were desperate against her, but he showed no signs of stopping, his hips snapping roughly and melting Shepard into a muttering ball of moans. Something had come over Thane, and he was acting like the answer to whatever was causing him to behave this way was inside of her and the only way he could learn the secret was to fuck it promptly out of her.

Whatever it was, whatever he needed, Shepard wanted him to find it, and she pushed back against him as best she could in the position she was in. She could hear his breath coming out behind her in shallow puffs and he bent down, licking a trail up her spine and to her neck. The mere action almost caused her to cum again, almost, and she jolted against the stall when he bit down on her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

She bit down on her own lip hard enough to draw blood in response—Thane must have seen it or smelt it, because he moved a hand under her waist to balance her as he tipped her chin up and over with the other, the action forcing her to look back at him, and he licked at the blood that had begun to trail down her mouth. He captured her lips with his and she tasted the metallic flavoring of it on his tongue—how dirty it all was made her impossibly wetter.

He released her face and Shepard turned back around, licking her lips. She'd never been fucked so good in her life and she never wanted him to stop. There was a tightness budding in her stomach again, her pleasure building and threatening to topple over—she tried to stop being so noisy, but it was something she was failing at.

A particularly hard thrust rocked through her and Shepard found herself practically on the ground, climaxing again, and she was so disoriented that for a moment she couldn't even hear the moans that had shrieked from her throat, let alone figure out what the hell had just happened.

She was still on her feet, but her hands were pressed firmly against the cool bathroom tile, Thane's fingers on her hips the only thing keeping her from collapsing all together; her hamstrings burned and pulled tightly in loud protest to the awkward position and she felt all the blood in her body rushing to her face; even so, Thane wasn't stopping, and her hair flopped about before her eyes, thankfully blocking her from being able to see the dirty floor beneath her hands.

Seconds later, she concluded that he had railed into her so hard he'd broken the lock on the stall door she had been heavily propped up against, it bursting open unceremoniously in response, and thus heaping her onto the ground in an undignified manner.

She felt scaly hands wrapping and winding their way up her torso, moving up to her breasts and gripping them painfully. It was delicious. She let out a gasp as he hefted her into an upright position and backed her further into the stall, and briefly, she caught sight of a disgruntled turian relieving himself in a urinal, looking their way, disapproval abundant upon his avian features.

He looked…familiar, his visage marked with red face paint, but before she could place where she'd seen him, Thane pushed the door closed with one foot, balancing against her on the other, and then pulled out of her as he shoved her back into a different wall of the stall, this time allowing her to turn and face him.

Thane grabbed one of her legs and hooked her thigh back around him, Shepard automatically doing the same with the other, and he had her pinned against the wall, his erection pressing against her stomach in teasing contact. She wrapped her arms around him and he gazed at her, their eyes making contact, and the commander took the moment of pause to catch her breath.

Everything suddenly seemed fragile somehow, and Shepard felt the heavy thudding of his heart against hers; she wanted this to last forever. She held her hand against his cheek as he regained his breath against her—he still didn't look like he felt quite right. Thane broke the still and lazily kissed down her cheek before moving down to suck at her neck as he shifted to enter her once again.

To help him, Shepard pushed back against the wall, struggling to use all of the strength in her shoulders and thighs to lift up against the drell; when she'd finally managed to wiggle her way up far enough, her wetness briefly teasing the head of his cock, he shoved into her again. He wasn't able to bury himself quite as deep as he had before because of the change in position, but he was deep enough—Shepard couldn't help but writhe against him.

The commander arched, this time the back of her head smacking against the stall, and cried out as he began to love her again. His thrusts were slower this time—torturous. Each stroke rubbed inside of her perfectly and she whimpered. Thane gasped against her and didn't stop the sluggish pace he had set, still maintaining eye contact with her; there was little to no space between them and the combination of his rhythm and their closeness was so intimate that it made her eyes sting.

Her voice was hoarse and her throat was sore, her vocal chords strained from overuse, and she knew her body would ache when they were through, but her soul felt whole. Shepard leaned in and kissed the drell, softly biting and sucking at his lower lip, and he moaned into her mouth before he nibbled down her chin to her neck.

He dragged the slickness of his tongue and teeth across her skin, leaving marks on her, and ran one of his hands up to palm her breast. He still moved against her and pried whimpers from her pouted lips. He was forceful with her, yet gentle at the same time, and every action culminated into a kind of pleasure Shepard hadn't experienced before.

She was really looking forward to having more nights like this.

Due to his roughness with her, an itch was beginning to spread out across Shepard's stomach, bumps rising like hives. The ointment she had been using had proven kind of worthless in the face of the almost violent contact of his skin against hers. She would be feeling all of this in the morning, but right now, with Thane rolling into her, it was barely registering and her only thought was of getting him off.

Thane bit and sucked at the hollow of her throat and quickened his pace again and Shepard felt a tightening in her stomach, the butterflies again. He moved his hands from where he'd had them placed against the stall by either side of Shepard's head, using them instead to grip the back of her hips forcefully.

Thane took a few measured steps back, moving her lower half with him in an effort to keep his length sheathed inside of her, and Shepard slid half way down the stall, her shoulder blades sticking and barely catching her. The situation felt kind of precarious and she was sure she would have slipped and done a hand stand if Thane had left too much slack between them—he was applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure that her shoulders stayed pressed against the wall.

Had Shepard been capable of rational thought, she would have added a crick in the neck to the list of body parts and ailments that were going to be making her their bitch tomorrow. If the position was in any way painful at the moment, it didn't register. She didn't care, all she knew was that she wanted more, and he wanted to give it to her.

The commander wasn't quite sure what to do with her hands, Thane barely within reach, and every which way she put them felt abnormal. She settled for throwing one above her head, the limb bent at the elbow and resting against the coldness of the stall as well as atop her crown, and allowed the other one to flop lifelessly beside her, knuckles whacking against metal, or rather what would have been beside her had she not found herself horizontal, midair, and completely at Thane's mercy.

She was absolutely positive that this was the roughest, most wonderful fuck she'd ever had, entirely different than their usual love making, this very much minus the sweet and with a good multiplication of the primal in the purest sense of the word. His hips jerked against her, his cock hard and throbbing, and she thrashed, helplessly caught between Thane and the stall wall. The muscles in her torso rippled in an effort to keep herself from hitting the ground.

Shepard opened her eyes and the sweat that had beaded on her forehead threatened to blind her. Thane looked beautiful—he was the image of an individual totally enraptured. Looking at him made her feel further motivated. She pushed the back of her shoulders against the wall with so much strength that it hurt her so that she could generate enough movement in her body to meet his thrusts.

The noises he was making were driving her crazy and the coupling of their voices together sounded beautiful; in that moment, more so than in any other, Shepard had a strong longing to be able to hear the other sounds she knew he was making, the ones that were unfortunately beyond human perception.

Despite her handicap, she was sure he was getting closer and closer to his goal, his moans indicating this and his thrusting into her growing less and less controlled; he seemed stuck, unable to reach his climax, like he needed a push, and she could happily supply him with one.

She squeezed her thighs around him as she gathered her breath. "Thane…fuck. God, you're so good." A whimper interrupted her and her voice cracked. "I want you to cum inside me." Her breathing grew heavier and she squeezed her eyes shut—gathering the concentration to speak was difficult. "Please cum for me, Krios. Please."

She didn't think she'd actually peak again though she'd felt it building—she'd never been a multiple orgasm kind of girl—but when she felt him tense against her and the hotness of his fluid shoot inside of her, she came far harder than she had the first two times. Her name was on his lips and she reveled in the feeling of him reaching his completion inside of her; her back arched in a stunning show of flexibility, her fists clenching at nothing and her knuckles whitening.

Shepard didn't think she was ever going to come down, the sound of her heart beating rapidly in her ears the only thing she could hear, black spots bursting obnoxiously in her eyes, and she felt Thane's hands sliding up the small of her back. He hefted her up, her legs still around him and gripping him tightly, before walking backward a few paces and leaning against the wall opposite to the one he had just fucked her against. He steadied her in his arms before he allowed himself to collapse onto the floor.

She was a babbling heap in his lap and Thane slumped against her bonelessly. Shepard was talking to him, not quite knowing what she was saying because her high still hadn't worn off, but he wasn't responding—perhaps unable to.

Shepard held his head in her arms and cradled it, murmuring, and she pushed at his chest so that she could see his face. He smiled up at her, his breathing heavy, and ran fingers through sweat dampened hair.

"It seems I was correct, Siha," his eyes closing, arms going even more limp.

"Mmm, how's that?"

"You are astonishingly beautiful, a memory to cherish." And with that, he was out.

Shepard tried waking him, a little shocked that he had feinted, but soon gave up. She was sobering, freezing her ass off and feeling a little dirty at getting so thoroughly fucked in such a tastelessly public area, but loving every second of it none-the-less; she was at a loss as to what she should do, though, and after ten minutes passed and he still hadn't come to, she started to feel a little panicky.

She may have been bare-assed on the floor of a low scale restroom with a nude, passed out assassin beside her, both of them looking the worse for wear, but what the hell, she was Commander fucking Shepard, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't find a way out of this.

Shepard moved to redress herself, dignity intact.