Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, or any of its characters, though I wish I could. They belong to Bioware and EA. Any other characters are mine unless stated otherwise. All songs and quotes are credited to their respected owners. I make no money with this Fanfiction. It's just my imagination gone crazy.

Note: This chapter was a bit hard to write, and I'm not completely happy about it and I might re-write it. Even still I wanted to get this out for Valentine's Day. Anyways, jealous drells are hot. :D Anyways, I know Thane is all composed and shit, but it's time to make him feel some. Ya' know?

Word Count: 1,680

Shadow Broker Base

He sat there heaving, his breath was labored. He couldn't believe it, he was finally free. Looking at his raw wrist, he cringed, the restraints almost took off all the skin when he peeled them off so quickly. He had to. He only had a second in the darkness. It was disgusting. The vibrant greens, reds, yellows, and blacks looking like tattered meat that some Varren chewed up in his spare time. Fighting the itch to grab and rub them, he sighed. He would need medical attention soon, but he didn't want it here. Especially when that stupid white bulb thing kept asking him and following him everywhere, every second. He even got called the Shadow Broker, that made him shiver. Either way, he'd experienced it here already and the memories of the salarian and batarian 'doctors' weren't pretty. They toyed with him, made him hurt even more. They only kept him partially alive and that was a nicer way to look at it. His eyes where downcast. After speaking with Liara and hearing the tale of their victor made him happy, but Commander Shepard was hurt. She received a dislocated arm, her hip bone had a hair line fracture and her face and body where bruised and cut. It was his fault. He felt it no matter how much Liara said it wasn't. She had stated to him that all this was to just defeat the Shadow Broker, but he knew different. They had come for him, and only him. His bearings took a while to gather, his eyes glossy as he slipped into memory once more, but when a soft touch assaulted the skin of his forearm, his mind snapped and he grabbed the offending wrist of that hand. A small hiss of dislike came from the back of his throat. His head snapping up and a mad scrowl made him imposing. At first, he didn't notice who it was, but when he did, he wanted to cry in pure bliss. But no, that would really hurt. Damn salt. Her soft tan skin gleaming from the light of the celling. Her eyes downcast to show submission, her mouth pouted slightly to show remorse.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

Her voice was soft before it stopped, velvet, feminine. Her nose was broken, slightly slanted to the side. She had a deep tissue scar on her lip, most likely permanent, and there was a very small scar coming down vertically through the very top of her eyebrow to stop before her eyelid. She was beautiful. Purring lightly from deep down in his abdomen, he nodded once, and smiled, the bruises on his face making him look like pounded hamburger meat. But he couldn't help it. His full lips just acted on their own.

"Please, don't apologize. It was my fault. I did not see who it was. I suppose spending too much time here makes you jumpy..." A small chuckle escaped him, and he was happy when one of her own reached his ear canals. Letting go of her hand reluctantly, he saw her small frame bend to his eye level. Her knees looking like they would buckle soon from all the pain and stress he was sure she suffered. "You need medical attention, Feron. You're in pain and I'm sure you have post traumatic syndrome. I know you don't want to be here, or you do, but are you willing to get checked out by my chief medical officer?"

Feron didn't want to go. He felt rooted to the ground. Her pleading was making him want to do things he just couldn't. His body shook slightly. She was right. Maybe he should step out of this place. At least he could breath something other than stale air. Sighing, he nodded once, his eyes half lidded in thought. It was for his health, that's what he had to keep telling himself. But all the time he'd spent here took it's tole, he was getting nervous. Standing, he felt his ribs give way a bit, his body hunched over in pain. Damn, that meant they broke his ribs again. When she grabbed his arm abruptly and put it around her shoulder to distribute weight, he felt a jolt go up and over his whole body. She was soft, and her body was hot. He felt like he was burning. Shivering, Aleana chuckled and put her hand on his opposite hip. She was dragging him even though all her injuries where still healing and might open the wounds once again. She was a powerful woman, no matter what she looked like. Looking off to the exit, he saw the other drell he noticed before when he was restrained to that god awful chair. His body was rigid, and his eyes where squinted in jealousy. His jaw was hard pressed, his fist where clenching, chest was puffed out and his neck ribbing was inflated. When Commander Shepard brought him closer to the other male, he heard a low growl, low enough so any other species but themselves couldn't hear. He was claiming her, and challenging him. Bringing his body to stand upright, he sized his competition. He was a full head and a half taller than Shepard, but just a bit over the other male. He wouldn't be beat. Though knowing he had no right to even assume she'd ever return his feeling and knowing that the other drell was more to her and himself, he wanted to know her. He just wanted to try, but drell where creatures of habit. They where territorial, and now that they no longer had their home-world of Rakhana, their numbers where low. So they had to fight for breeding rights. It was, indeed very messy but they never killed.

When Shepard saw both of the men, she tilted her head in wonder. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what the hell was happening but the weird part of it all was that she felt excited from the vibrations she felt. It was making her itchy, though. Thane was just staring at him, and Feron was staring back. Coughing into her hand, both men looked at her. Their eyes softening as they gave her their upmost attention. "Thane, please go inform Doctor Chakwas that she had a patient with the outmost urgency." She spoke, and Thane could feel her commanding voice seeping through. He didn't want to leave his Siha alone with this 'gentleman', especially now that he was going away soon. He had little time, and even though Mordin was working on a cure, he was skeptical. He had already given up life before when he was in his battle-sleep, but now, he wanted to be with her. She was everything to him. Bowing his broad frame to her, he conceded to her request, but before he left his eyes shot angrily at the other drell. He hoped he got his point across.

SSV Normandy SR2

Med-Bay; Deck 3

It took Feron a long time to get across the ship and onto the Normandy, he was mumbling angrily every step and tripping over every other. Thane had been the most confusing to her. He was always the most composed of them all, but suddenly when she arrived, he basically ripped Feron from her arms and threw him at the medical beds. His body hissed at the mistreatment, and he looked like they where having the stupid staring contents they have on the Broker ship. Dismissing Thane without giving him a chance to retaliate, she sighed. Perhaps he was still mad about being knocked out and getting his son threatened. Shit, she knew she would be furious, too. Looking now at Feron as the great Doctor and Mordin ran scanners up and down his body, applying medi-gel every-which way, being poked and prodded, the antiseptic and sterile air making her a bit sick, she wondered if she should go. But when she saw his pleading eyes as she started towards the door, she felt dead set on staying.

When Liara had first mentioned Feron, she didn't mention how good looking he was. Just like Thane. Damn these drells. She was soon going to turn into a xenophile. Chuckling at the thought, she saw Feron bat away Mordin's hands, the fast talking salarian mumbling way too quick his diagnosis. When he was done, and he retreated from scales, snarls and hisses, he came to her and scoffed. "Drell is badly damaged, no signs of Kepral's Syndrome, lungs bruised and suffered abrasions. Would recommend further test and location to the ship. Keep an eye on him. Better. Also recommended he speak to Chambers. Very jumpy, eidetic memory not good in this case. No permanent damage, but will need weeks of physical therapy and rest. Not strenuous. Broken ribs, skin still raw. Missing scales are painful for drell. Hormone levels off the charts, very territorial. Would recommend not placing him with other drell that are looking for that" He sucked in a breath and smirked at her. " 'someone's' attention."

As he was leaving, she caught the last little bit of his rant. He was always out the door so damn fast. How old was he again? Laughing and shaking her head, she turned to Feron and smiled sweetly. Poor guy. She didn't understand what he meant about all this territorial or hormone stuff, but she pushed it aside, she needed to focus. "So doctor, do you agree with Mordin?" When she didn't receive an answer, she thought she wasn't heard, but before she repeated herself, Chakwas gave her a look that could kill. Her eyes where shooting daggers and made Aleana back up into the closets window and put her hands up in surrender. "Wow doctor, it wasn't me. Please no stink eye." When Chakwas eyes softened and she knew she understood, a deep sigh coming from the pit of her stomach. Nodding and approaching both of them, she placed her hand softly on Feron's shoulder. She felt the deep vibrations again, but she wasn't going to let him go through this alone.