Tali leaned against the desk, fiddling with the edge of Shepard's armguards as she waited. The place was littered with reports, datapads, and empty coffee cups; he'd been under a lot of stress clearly, more than he needed. The man in question was standing a few paces away, dressing quickly, pieces of his armour scattered across the floor and the desk. She heard the distinctive zip of his undersuit, and she drew her attention to the clock nearby; he had just over thirty minutes until he had to be down in the shuttle bay.
She watched, mildly interested, as he fixed the armour onto his body, snapping each piece in place fluidly. He didn't notice her gaze on him for a long time, until he looked over at her first, then past her.
"Pass me the shoulders, will you?"
"Sure."
She picked them out and handed them over, then watched as he snapped those in place. His fingers stumbled with the catch on the back, so she automatically reached out and pushed it in for him, but immediately regretted doing so a moment later as a wave of dizziness came over her. It was the stims again, which did a great job of keeping her awake but always messed with her balance. She pressed two fingers against her temple for a moment, and pulled them away as soon as she realized what she was doing; if Shepard saw he would worry, but he'd already noticed, if the concerned look on his face was anything to go by.
"You alright?"
She gave him a weak smile and shook her head. "Just the stims, it's nothing important." His expression didn't change.
"Stims?" She looked away, but didn't answer. He paused and took a step closer. "You mentioned you weren't sleeping. Something wrong?"
She looked back up at him and shook her head again, relaxing her face into a more consoling expression. "Just stress, I think."
He fixed her with a look that told her that he didn't buy it, but he had the good grace to drop the subject. Well, mostly. "Well, you know where I am if you need me."
She nodded, turning away. "I know."
He went back to putting his things on, and for a while she was satisfied to just listen to the staccato clicking of his armour, until he reached a hand out in her direction. "Need those," he said, gesturing towards the pieces in her hands. She brought them over and he held out his arms, so she fixed them on for him. "Thanks." He looked like he was about to turn away, before he paused and brought his hand up to her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone in a gesture of affection. She smiled, genuinely this time, and it seemed to lighten his uneasy mood a little.
"Was Liara okay after I left last night?" he said lightly as he pulled on his gloves. Tali paused mid-step as residual emotions from the night before crept along the edges of her mind, but she managed to inhale and push them back in an attempt to keep herself stable.
"Yes, I think so."
He glanced at her over his shoulder again. "Sorry you had to see that."
"It's alright, I should have knocked."
He sighed. "Yeah, she's been... taking it pretty hard."
"Mhm."
They were both silent as he fixed his omnitool around his wrist, bringing the interface up briefly to make sure it was working properly. After a moment, he looked back up at her. "It can't be easy, losing your home like that." Tali didn't know how to reply; she could sympathize with Liara, sure, but she couldn't relate. He seemed to notice her hesitation as he approached her quietly and leaned against the desk beside her. They both watched his rather large collection of fish swim lazily in circles around the tank, until he spoke again. "I don't really know what she's going through either. Didn't exactly have a home growing up."
She looked over at him, but he didn't seem to notice. There was something in his expression, a kind of wistfulness she wasn't used to seeing on his face. "Doesn't growing up on a ship count as home?"
He shrugged. "I guess, but we were always moving from one place to another, just never got attached." With that, she couldn't relate. She'd spent her entire childhood on the Rayya and still had a rather strong attachment to it, even though she had few connections there since her father's death.
"It makes sense, I guess."
"Mmm, well. At least it gives us something in common."
She laughed faintly. "Other than killing Reapers for a hobby?"
He echoed her laugh, taking one of her hands in his own. "Dinner dates are overrated." He grew serious then, studying her gloved fingers intently. "It'd be nice to make a home someday," he said quietly, as if speaking to himself.
She started. "What?"
He shrugged again, head tilting to the side as he looked up at her briefly. "You know, when all this is over. Find out what the fuss is about with having a place to come back to."
She had to swallow the painful lump that had swelled in her throat. She didn't deserve him, not anymore, not after what she'd done to him. The pressure of all this was breaking her, cracking her sanity in ways she had never imagined; she almost wanted to confess everything right now and plead for his forgiveness, but instead she sucked in a long breath and hid the feelings away.
"Maybe," she finally answered.
He squeezed her hand tightly, then looked past her to check the time. "Time to go," he murmured, leaning forward to leave a chaste kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes, and just for a moment she pretended that everything was okay, just until he pulled away. It was over too soon.
"Be careful," she said, as he pulled away and let go of her hand.
He gave her a wry grin. "I'll try."
She watched as he picked up his helmet and made his way to the door, sparing one last glance for her before disappearing from view. She stared after him, then let her chin drop to her chest. She studied the floor for a little while, but she didn't see it, not really. She was too preoccupied with mulling over what Liara had said the night before. The memory of the look in her eyes just wouldn't leave Tali; it plagued her incessantly, just like Garrus' last words to her. Both these people, combined with her blatant lying to Shepard, were going to make her clinically insane, one way or another.
She still couldn't understand how Liara had found out. It made sense for her to have agents in public places like Purgatory, but she doubted anyone would notice the two of them in a crowd of dozens. Perhaps she'd rigged the main battery? No, that couldn't be it. Her personal opinions of Garrus aside, he was a capable tech, and he would know if there were bugs in the room. After all, this was as much his secret as hers, so of course he'd make sure no one was spying for his own selfish, disgusting intentions. Her mind drifted to other events in the past few days, coming to rest on her encounter with Chakwas in the med bay. She briefly considered that, then dismissed it; Chakwas had given her word not to speak of it, and Tali highly doubted that EDI would let Liara put surveillance in there. She was almost beginning to believe that she had imagined it all, but when the image came back to mind, any semblance of doubt was blown away. Liara knew, and there was no refuting that. It was whatshe knew that was the problem.
She sighed, pushed away from the desk and made her way down the steps, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. Shepard hadn't made the sheets before he left, so she tangled her fingers into the cloth, mussing them further. His scent lingered on them, sharp yet warm, and she suddenly wished she could curl up in his bed, drift off to sleep and pretend like she didn't have to let another man use her body.
Instead, she drew in another breath and cradled her head in her hands. She had maybe another fifteen minutes for leeway before she had to leave, and she hoped desperately that they would never end. She tried to suppress the dread that had been building ever since she'd received Garrus' message; no, that had been building ever since he had given her this ultimatum, but it was reaching a slow crescendo, the climax of which she couldn't guess.
Seconds ticked by. She spent most of it simply breathing, as it was all she could do these days to keep herself under control. Thane would be proud of her control, she bitterly thought, maybe even Samara. She'd once envied them for their phenomenal self-discipline, and now she found herself testing her resolve in ways that even they might have cracked under.
She checked her omnitool after a few more minutes; her time was up. She rose wearily, made her way up the stairs back up to Shepard's desk and picked up her mask, then clicked it in place. She headed towards the door, her footsteps growing heavier with each step. She stopped when she reached it, then turned and looked over the room again, empty but still full of Shepard's presence. She sighed, then turned on her heel and left.
At first, she thought the main battery was empty. Garrus wasn't at his usual post by his console, and the lights were dimmed down considerably, making it hard to see if there was anyone in the room. A small glimmer of hope grew within her, that maybe he was tied up in work somewhere else and had forgotten all about this, but she immediately squashed that thought out. He wasn't a fool, far from it, and he'd be here on time when he asked her to be here. She just had to look harder.
She took a step forward into the room, letting the door close behind her. There was movement from the right corner which she hadn't been able to see from the doorway, and she was able to make out the outline of Garrus' form in the low light. He was working at the weapon bench, the lamp giving him a strange glow, and she nearly shook her head at her own stupidity for missing him.
There was the clang of metal against metal as he presumably set his gun down, and turned to face her. The smell of cleaning fluid entered her helmet, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sharp smell. She tilted her head slightly in his direction, acknowledging his presence but showing her repulsion in that little action. He either didn't notice or chose not to react to it, as he picked up a rag and what looked like a pair of gloves.
"There you are," he said lightly. "I'd almost thought you'd forgotten." There was amusement in his tone, and Tali almost felt sick. Did he really find this funny?
"No," she replied curtly.
He approached her slowly then, tucking his gloves under his elbow and wiping his hands on the rag. She watched him intently, daring him to come closer, which made his mandibles flick slightly; she had no idea what that meant.
"Sorry about the smell," he said somewhat sheepishly, flaring his mandibles in a grin. "Got brute blood all over my rifle on Rannoch, makes it a liiiittle hard to see through the scope." She turned her head away, but didn't reply. He kept continuing though, as if he didn't notice. "Though I guess your shotgun can't be in much better shape."
She swallowed her anger, but some of it still seeped into her voice. "No, it isn't."
This made him take pause, then look down to inspect his hands. She turned her head a little to watch him as he pulled on his gloves. His eyes came up suddenly to look at her, catching her off-guard and pinning her with his stare. She froze, unable to blink or move away, and something tingled along her spine. Whether it was fear, or some other emotion she'd rather not admit feeling, she didn't know. He looked away eventually, and let out a quiet sigh.
"If you want to make this difficult for yourself, then that's your choice," he said softly, his voice laced with a trace of danger that sent a brief, terrifying kind of panic through her. Her head snapped towards him automatically, her eyes narrowing in a fiery glare.
"Oh, it's supposed to be easy?" she snarled. He looked up at her, fixing her in place with a stare that felt like ice cold water over her skin, giving her the answer she asked for. The sheer rigidness in his blue irises harshly reminded her that he was from a species of apex predators, and he had the natural weapons to hurt her if he so chose. Once, she would have never even imagined that he would purposely hurt her, but circumstances had changed now, and drastically so.
He didn't look away for a good minute, then suddenly tilted his head in the direction of a door along the far wall. Her windpipe constricted. "Come on," he said, turning away. She kept her jaw clenched tightly, then followed him hesitantly, the muscles of her legs resisting every step. It almost physically hurt her to be in his presence, to follow him into what she assumed were his personal quarters and give herself over to his whims.
He held the door open for her, and she shot him a glare before going in. The gunnery officer's quarters looked identical to those of her own, except his was sparsely decorated, with only a bed along one wall and a closet adjacent to it; everything was tidy and plain, as if no one actually lived in here. She was pulled out of her observations as she heard the door close behind her and footsteps approaching, but she didn't turn around. The fear and defiance she had felt just moments before was melting into despair that took hold of her, and the feelings from that morning where she had woken up alone in a hotel room, abandoned by Garrus, came flooding back and threatened to overwhelm her. He must have noticed the slight sag of her shoulders, as he paused mid-step. But this wasn't the time to show weakness, and not in his company. She took in a deep breath and straightened again, turning to face him.
"Before anything, I need to speak with you," she said, her voice perfectly even. His eyeplates rose slightly, but he didn't reply. "How did Liara find out?"
Confusion came over his face. "What?"
She tightened the muscles in her jaw for a moment before speaking again. "She knows. She didn't say it, but she... implied it."
He looked away, thinking. "She can't have solid proof, there's no way."
"How do you know?"
He glanced at her. "I know." She gritted her teeth at his rude dismissal, but pushed it aside. "How could she..."
"That's what I'd like to know too."
He shook his head slightly. "I'll look into it."
She didn't reply, simply stood there as tense silence fell over them. A minute passed by, then another, as she waited for him to make his move, but he did nothing. She chanced a look in his direction and found him staring at the far wall, lost in some kind of thought she wasn't privy to. Not for the first time in this encounter, Tali became nervous, not knowing what to do with herself and ignorant of his intentions. Her eyes flickered toward the door; she could probably make it there if she ran, but that was childish and pointless, and he'd probably catch her before she could leave the main battery.
He must have noticed her discomfort as he looked up at her again, then took a deliberate step closer. She almost flinched. There was only about two metres between them, and her nervousness was beginning to get to her as she fidgeted with her fingers. Eventually, he spoke, the reverb in his voice curiously subdued and some kind of emotion flickering over his face. "The mask."
She looked at him incredulously. "I'll get sick."
He didn't so much as twitch. "You'll adapt."
Her face contorted into an expression of disgust. "And EDI?"
He scoffed, shaking his head lightly. "I know a thing or two about tech. She can't access this room."
She couldn't think of anything else that could serve as an excuse, and resigned herself to obeying his order. Her hand came up to the mask and clicked it off, letting it drop down to her side afterward. She closed her eyes and breathed in the air that would no doubt make her sick tomorrow morning. How she would explain that to Shepard, she had no idea. The only sound that reached her ears was her own breathing. She waited for him to do something, anything, to stop this guessing game that he apparently wanted to play, so she could get this over with and go nurse her wounds alone.
When she opened her eyes again she found that he was still staring at her with a kind of intensity that sent pinpricks of discomfort along her body. She met his gaze briefly, and though his face was blank, she realized that he was hesitating for some reason, as if he was waiting for something. He must have noticed she had realized that, because instantly he clenched his mandibles close to his face and seemed to steel himself.
"Undress."
She didn't refuse him this time, simply complied as she tried to breathe steadily and keep her composure. She removed her suit slowly, her fingers shaking on each buckle and zipper, placing everything in a neat pile by her feet. She couldn't meet his eyes, too ashamed to glance away from the floor. The room was cold and nipped at her skin, but it did nothing to alleviate the painful burning she felt from his gaze as he watched her bare herself for him.
When she finished she breathed in, finding enough confidence in the deepest corners of her mind to straighten and look him in the eye, betraying no hint of weakness. He didn't blink either, just took another step closer to her. His eyes drifted down her body, his face completely unreadable, then walked forward again, and Tali had to clasp her hands together to keep them steady. He was close enough that if he reached out he could touch her, but he didn't do so. Instead, he seemed paralyzed, and she could just make out the almost-undetectable quiver of his mandibles.
Unconsciously, her brow furrowed; that made no sense. Was he... anxious? The constant staring almost seemed to indicate so, but she had a hard time believing it. After all, he was the one taking advantage of her, so if anything, she reasoned, his hesitation was his way of drawing out this torture he was putting her through.
She raised her chin by a millimetre, and his eyes darted to her mouth and back up at her eyes. She silently dared him to come forward, feigning confidence when inside she was numb with fear. He took her challenge and closed the gap between them, but didn't touch her, not yet. He removed his gloves and let them drop to the floor, then raised his hand slowly, hovering just over her arm. He seemed to freeze in place then again, completely unmoving as he looked down at his own hand. She let out a breath and closed her eyes; she no longer had the strength to face this. Time didn't matter anymore as seconds stretched out, both of them immobilized as she conceded her defeat and waited for him to take it.
She didn't know how long it took before she finally felt the ghost of talons against her skin. It was barely there, so light that she might have even imagined it, but it didn't stop her from visibly shivering. He touched her again, this time pressing the palm of his hand against her, and she could hear him swallow, as her own breath quivered. He stroked up and down her arm slowly, his movements halting and shaky. She tipped her head back just an inch, her eyes squeezed shut as she pretended to be anywhere but here. She could feel him lean forward slightly then, his mandibles ghosting along the skin of her neck, followed by his mouthplates. This time she swallowed, her bottom lip trembling. His reluctance from before peeled away slowly as his other hand came up to rest on her waist, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Tali willed herself not to cry. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, and she could hear the quiet whimpers that were leaving her mouth of their own accord. He either didn't hear them or ignored them as he nipped the slope of her shoulder lightly, his tongue soothing over the skin afterward. He pulled away after a moment, then brought a hand up to cup her cheek, reminding her painfully of what Shepard had done just an hour or two before.
"Look at me," he whispered.
She shook her head, afraid that if she listened to him, she'd start crying. He didn't insist immediately, instead running one hand up and down her back as a finger on the other traced over her mouth. He gave her a minute, then another. "Look at me." His voice was almost pleading, catching her by surprise. She opened her eyes halfway, and she caught their glowing reflection in his own. His finger paused along the cleft of her lip, his head tilting slightly as he studied her, memorized her.
Suddenly, he pressed her body against his own armoured form, his hands gripping her forearms tightly as he walked her backward, his eyes never leaving hers as she watched the blank emotion on his face be replaced with a fierce lust within an instant, the kind that sent a shot of arousal to her core unconsciously. Her legs hit the back of the bed and he leaned her back gently onto the mattress, then straightened and stripped quickly. She watched with one part morbid curiosity and one part guilty arousal as his gleaming, silver plates were uncovered from the undersuit he wore. She hadn't been able to see him properly in the hotel room before, but now she was somewhat fascinated by the angular lines of his body, and found them just a little attractive, despite herself. He caught her stare then, and her hands trembled for an entirely different reason this time. She cursed her fickle body for responding to him this way, but deep down she knew that this wasn't just a consequence of physicality.
She bit down on her lip until she drew blood in an effort to control herself. She was pathetic for letting him get to her, let herself enjoy this like some kind of whore for his pleasure. She had almost managed to steel herself from feeling anything and push back the tension building in her core when he crawled on top of her, his legs pinning her hips in place and his hands running through her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut as his tongue traced along her skin, her body betraying her in the worst possible way.
His hands gripped her hips and pulled her forward until just her ankles dangled over the edge of the bed, and his hands drifted to her breasts, rolling and squeezing her nipples between the pads of his fingers. She couldn't stop the moan that left her throat, followed by a gasp that sounded suspiciously like a sob. You don't want this, she repeated over and over in her mind, you're not enjoying this. But no amount of pleading with herself could stop the fact that heat and moisture were pooling between her legs, that her body was arching into his, and she was nearly willingly giving her body to him. Twinges of pleasure rode up her spine, mingling with fiery anger directed both at herself and at him.
He nipped down her chest then, licking each mark afterward, as he pushed her thighs apart further with both hands. She was indignant at herself for letting him do so with no resistance, but the thought was pushed out of her head as he slipped a finger inside her, massaging the nerves inside and drawing a wavering gasp from her mouth. He jerked his fingers against the spot again and she pushed her head back into the sheets automatically, her body arching dramatically into his. Tears escaped her eyes, but whether they were the bad kind or the good kind, she didn't know. She didn't want to know.
He pulled himself to eye level with her again, his other hand keeping her face in place as she watched feverish, violent lust burn in the blue of his irises, and she knew that hers were mirroring it. The nervousness, the fear, the anger, it had all vanished; somehow he had managed to get under her skin again, make her lose her inhibitions, and give in to the wildfire that was Garrus and let it consume her completely. She hated herself for it.
She couldn't find the will to push it all away, to pull her sanity back from the clutches of lust. Her breathing was shallow as he licked up the arch of her neck and over her chin, dipping into her mouth momentarily. She provided no resistance as he slipped his fingers out of her and gripped the back of her knees, pushing them back as far as they would go and leaving her exposed to him.
Something flickered across his face then, and she recognized it instantly. She didn't know much about turian expressions, but she had known Garrus long enough to know this one, but it was gone before she could come to terms with the fact that it had been there. To her complete and utter surprise, the emotion was regret, and it caught her completely off-guard. He must have noticed the recognition on her own features, as his mandibles drew close to his face and he pushed into her in one fluid motion.
The rest disappeared in a glaze of heat and tension, pushing and panting, white-hot ecstasy and feverish bliss. The very essence of him took her breath away, set fire to her nerves and pushed her into the far reaches of delirium that she had only experienced once before, and only with him. Shepard was loving, gentle, exquisite, breathtaking, perfect; but Garrus was passion incarnate, and she couldn't help but be consumed by him, despite the fact that she knew she was being an adulterous bitch.
None of that mattered right now though; the only thing she could focus on was him, and the things he was making her feel. He pushed her toward her peak, higher and higher until she couldn't breathe anymore, then gently pushed her over the brink, sending her crashing and tumbling back to reality, then followed shortly behind her.
Afterward neither of them moved, both exhausted and out of breath. As the endorphins leeched out of her bloodstream, Tali became acutely aware of what had just happened, she grew numb with disbelief. Garrus was still inside her, but she suddenly felt the burning need to push him away, claw at him and rip him to shreds for turning her own body and mind against her. She deserved to be shot or thrown out of the airlock for this betrayal, for willingly sleeping with another man without alcohol as an excuse this time. Her throat constricted painfully and she felt like she couldn't breathe, like she was drowning and Garrus was the one holding her down.
She managed to gain control of her erratic breathing and slip back to sanity when she felt him slide out of her and pull away to stand back on his feet, though he seemed a little shaky. For a moment she stared at him blankly, watching as he pulled a towel from the closet and cleaned up, then began to get dressed.
Her moment of paralysis passed and she jerked to her feet, picking up the pieces of her suit frantically.
She heard the definitive sound of his undersuit zipping behind her, and was in the process of pulling on her leggings when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist gently. She swung around violently, intent on hurting him in some way or another for daring to touch her after what he'd just done, when his other hand caught the punch she was lining up with his face and twisted it down painfully. She glared at him, abhorrence and fury lining every inch of her body, but he didn't react, instead simply bringing her wrists together and restraining them with one hand instead. His other one drifted to her side, as he tilted his head to get a better view.
"Don't touch me," she snarled, trying to pull out of his ironclad grip.
He gave her that look that sent ice running through her veins, but she was adamant this time to not let it get to her. He'd had his fun and corrupted her in the process; she didn't owe him anything more than that. But he had decided to not pay attention to her struggling anymore, instead raking his eyes over her body and occasionally touching her skin. She writhed and pulled, but his grip was nearly unbreakable and he was insistent. It was only when he traced over something on her shoulder that she looked down begrudgingly at his fingers, only to find that he was stroking one of the marks he had left.
She froze and stared at him. What the hell was he doing?
"Chakwas has something for these," he said quietly, running his thumb over the long red line. "I'm sorry if they hurt."
Her head spun, and this time, it wasn't the stims. His actions confounded her, rendering her dumbstruck as she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. This was what he was sorry for? A few scratches that would heal in a day or two, not the fact that he was ripping her life apart? The anger within her bubbled up again, and she waited for just a few more moments for his grip to loosen before ripping her hands away and backing away from him.
"I said, don't touch me."
Their eyes locked in a strange struggle for dominance, her body lined with unparalleled anger and his with some kind of incomprehensible emotion. Neither of them backed down, refusing to let the other win their battle of wills, though she couldn't understand what his was. Eventually he backed away, taking a step back and turning away to get dressed. She didn't move for another moment, then did the same, her fingers slipping on the buckles and latches until she had managed to put it all on properly. She took one last deep breath before putting her mask on, pushing away her frazzled nerves and confused thoughts to a dark corner of her mind. She wondered absently how much longer she could keep this up; there was only so much room in her mind to stow away all these feelings, and she was afraid that one day she wouldn't be able to handle any more.
She caught him watching her when she finished dressing, leaning against the wall with his mandibles drawn close to his face, clearly bothered, but by what, she didn't know. She adjusted her hood and straightened her back, then stared back at him. His mandibles fluttered; she narrowed her eyes.
She looked away then and silently made her way to the door. She could feel his stare in the back of her head, but she didn't look at him again. Her hand hovered over the door lock, then pressed down. She walked out without another glance behind her, leaving him behind in the silence.