Sam isn't the only one who can quote poetry in such a way as to leave her lover weak-kneed.
She wakes in the middle of the Normandy's night-cycle to a familiar pair of eyes, whiskey brown turned nearly black in the dim light. Ash lowers her mouth until it just brushes the shell of one dark ear, and just from that Sam's breathing falters - when the Spectre begins to speak, it nearly stops.
"The woods are lovely," Ash says, lips brushing Sam's skin with each sound, and the specialist can hear the weight of each word, knows what is being said.
"Dark," the woman above her continues, subtlety taking a hit when she nips at Sam's earlobe, "And deep…" She slots one leg between Sam's, eliciting a quiet squeak and causing the smaller woman to grab desperately at her shoulders - but Ash isn't done, and she refuses the kisses Sam tries to press to her mouth.
"But I have promises to keep," there's a wicked gleam in her eye, "And miles to go before I sleep." She rocks her hips forward, pressing her tightly-muscled thigh harder against its target as she murmurs the last line against eager brown lips. "And miles to go before…I…sleep."