Shepard dabbed medi-gel onto the abrasions on her inner thighs. They were light this time, and they'd heal quickly. Ten years of fucking turians, and she still hadn't found a position that didn't leave her skin chafed raw somewhere. At least Sparatus hadn't left any scratches on her. In all, he'd actually been very gentle for a turian driven half mad with lust. Maybe she should tone down the pheromone cocktail she used to lower inhibitions and increase desire. But why tinker with something that was effective? If she changed the formula, it might not work so well. Probably wouldn't work on Garrus at all if she diluted it. How he resisted so effectively, she couldn't guess. No, she wouldn't change the mixture. Scraped thighs were a small price to pay.

Sparatus had been a difficult mark. Unlike others, he'd been able to keep in mind the reasons he didn't want to have sex with a human, even when he was nearly insensible with desire. In the end, she'd had to reveal some of her mastery over surveillance systems to convince him that no one would find out. Of course, instead of admitting that she was brute-force hacking the systems, she claimed to be using some sort of C-Sec master code. He probably wouldn't have believed her capable of doing it so quickly, if at all, without a crutch like that.

Wiping her fingers on the towel she'd dried off with, she cleaned up the bathroom. Garrus probably wouldn't catch the significance of a wet towel and some dirty clothes on the floor if he saw them when he came over, but he was a detective. She was more concerned that her hair wouldn't finish drying before she saw him, even with the drier that used mass effect fields to push the water out off of every strand. Even a high-tech device like that wasn't perfect, and her scalp still felt damp. I'll tell him it's sweat, or that it's natural, or... whatever. He doesn't know humans well enough to catch me lying about that, she reassured herself. Wet hair was easier to explain away than another turian's scent all over her, though, so there had really been no choice.

She'd already brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth, but she felt the need to do it again. She was obviously not the first human or asari Sparatus had spent a few sweaty hours with, and he seemed to consider himself an expert kisser. The memory of his slimy, rough tongue filling her mouth made her gag. Once she controlled her reflex, she resumed brushing and scrubbed as if she was cleaning away the memory. She spat, rinsed her mouth and the brush, then regarded her reflection. She would need to reapply her makeup and perfume, get dressed, and pin her hair back. Half an hour, then she'd tell Garrus to come over while she picked up dinner and pretended she was just barely getting back from meeting up with Sparatus.

Part of her quailed at the thought of entertaining another turian so soon. She would have preferred to invite Penephaedra over, but she'd burned that bridge by anonymously sending the edited sex vid to the press. The artist would avoid her like the plague if she wanted to keep Tevos as her patron. But tonight wouldn't be so bad. Garrus was just playing her. He only wanted the files her encryption had corrupted. She still hadn't decided how much to let him have. If she gave him too much, she'd have to contain the information later on, but part of her really wanted to let him in.

She'd grown alarmingly attached to her turian partner. She was almost beginning to see him as a person and not a turian. He wasn't like most of the rest of his species, though, so it made sense that she was confused. He didn't want to see the galaxy marching to the Primarch's tune, and he didn't blindly fall into line, even when his superiors were turian. He also seemed capable of genuinely respecting and even admiring humans. She'd never seen that trait in a turian before. Lucky for him, he had also avoided becoming particularly influential or powerful. Or maybe that was her luck. Thinking of him as a target made her uncomfortable. He might have been the very first turian she'd met in ten years that she didn't want to see dead, and that... scared her.

Garrus's heart leapt when his omni-tool chimed to alert him to a new message. It was from Shepard.

Running late, and I'm not really up for going out tonight. Want to meet at my place and have dinner there? Let me know when you arrive and I'll send you the guest password for the locks if I'm not there yet.

That was it? She'd been gone all day and she had nothing more to say? He took a deep breath and stilled his twitching mandibles. Maybe she just didn't want to put it into a message. And she was going to let him into her apartment. It would be worthwhile if he could get an uncorrupted copy of those files. He composed a reply, then gathered up the day's case reports. If they were staying in, he was going to make her help him get some of the work she'd missed finished. It was only fair.

And in addition to explaining what she'd been doing since noon, she could explain the gift she handed him that morning. He placed the resealed roll with the rest of the crap he was taking home with him and snorted. He had carefully opened the protective plastic tube during his own lunch hour, just after Shepard left to meet the turian Councilor, and then he spent the entire time staring at the drawings he'd found within instead of eating. More than a dozen sketches of her, naked, posing for the asari artist.

He didn't have a clue what to make of it. Spirits, he didn't even know if he should keep the drawings. She'd given him the roll before he'd expressed his interest in a relationship with her. Before they'd agreed to... any of that. Had she known? She couldn't have. So she'd given him these when she believed there was a slim chance at best of being more than partners at work to one another. Bold. Shameless, even. He had to admire her for her confidence. And more than that, he had to have some answers.

Garrus typed in the pass-code. Petrichor. What the hell is a petrichor? he wondered, hoping he'd entered it correctly. The symbols humans used were simple, but a lot of them looked very similar to him. The access terminal flashed green and the lock released, allowing him entry. He locked it again behind him so he'd have at least a few seconds' warning before she came in. He definitely didn't want her to catch him scanning her ship display.

He wasted no time setting up the programs. He'd done a little work upgrading his decryption protocols and adding a whole slew of frequency identification programs, and within moments, he had confirmation that it had paid off. The files were downloading, and he'd gotten four more chips to ping him back. If he had a little time, he was confident he could find more, and with some luck, he'd get files off all of them. What could all of it be? There were terabytes of storage in this miniature plastic fleet. The personnel carrier's chip finished giving up its secrets, but it looked like some of the files were heavily encrypted. The ones that hadn't successfully copied the first time, in fact. He hoped it wouldn't be a problem.

Waiting for his programs to run, he studied the collection, noting with interest that the model he'd recently seen in pieces on the work desk had now joined its fellows on the wall. He glanced to the desk and was surprised to see another model. Did she ever stop? This one was still in its box and shrink-wrap, though, not laid out and ready to assemble. Well, she had been busy.

He scanned the rest of the dim apartment and with an annoyed flick of his mandibles, he noticed the phallic sculpture Councilor Sparatus had sent her was sitting in the center of the coffee table. He checked the download status, then walked over and picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, probably made of solid steel, but it was also smaller than he'd imagined it would be. Laughable. Pathetic, even. Considering the scale, maybe its resemblance to a penis was just an unfortunate coincidence. He checked his visor stats on it and confirmed his assumption about its composition. Who would want something like that? He hoped Shepard would get rid of it. She already admitted she didn't like it in her apartment... more or less.

He replaced the sculpture, then sat on the couch and monitored his programs' progress. All the new files were encrypted, some of which might be impossible for him to decrypt alone. He took note of what ships the active memory devices were stored in and settled down to wait for Shepard.

He felt like a mess. His heart was fluttering, he was angry and apprehensive, but he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to seeing her, though he hoped she would be content with talking, maybe sitting close. What did humans do with someone they were dating?

A horrifying thought occurred to him. She wasn't expecting him to have sex with her, was she? Garrus slouched deeper into the couch and an unhappy growl rumbled in his chest. What had she said about being asked to lunch versus being taken to dinner? Dinner meant someone wanted to get laid. Spirits. How had he missed that? Well, it didn't matter. There was no way he was going to let that happen tonight.

The door chimed a proximity alert, jarring him from his thoughts. He glanced at his omni-tool and quickly decided to let the programs run in the background. Shepard would never know what he was downloading and decrypting, anyway. The lock disengaged and the door slid open, revealing Shepard, burdened by what looked like dinner and a bottle of wine. "Glad you could make it," he called, rising to help her.

"Ugh, me too. You have no idea," she wearily complained, letting him take a few of the containers from the stack in her arms. "I didn't know what you like, so I, uh, probably over-ordered."

"You could have asked," he said, studying her appearance. Her uniform looked a little rumpled, but not more than a normal day's wear could account for. Her hair was still pinned in a neat coil at the back of her head, with only a few wisps escaping the configuration. Neither disheveled nor overly neat. A little of the nervous tension in his chest released. Maybe he was needlessly worked up over Sparatus. He promised himself he wasn't going to be the one to broach that subject.

"No, the expression on the waiter's face was great," she insisted as she opened the dextro/levo-friendly wine. "Puny human ordering enough dextro food to feed a clawball team. I told him I had a hot date," she said, blinking one eye. Winking at him, rather.

"A hot date with a whole clawball team. That's ambitious," he mused, watching her pour two glasses of the golden liquid. "And an image I didn't need to picture," Garrus said with a chuckle. He couldn't picture it, actually, but it looked like Shepard wasn't having any trouble. Well, not with picturing it, anyway. "Spirits, Valor, you look like I just tweaked your fringe," he said, rolling his head in delight.

"My what?" she asked. He would have thought she was angry but there was a smile creeping across her face.

"Uh... hair? Tweaked your hair?"

"Nope. Try again."

"I've got nothing. Something untoward and socially inappropriate. Fill in the blank."

"Smacked my ass?" she supplied.

"Uh-oh," he said solemnly, wiping the amused expression off his face. "Humans don't like that?" he asked, feigning ignorance. He was rewarded with a shocked expression followed by some hearty laughter, which he found surprisingly charming.

"Oh, god, how did I not know you have a sense of humor, Garrus?" she asked, still smiling.

"Well, you are a human," he sighed. "But don't worry, you've got pretty hair and a nice voice so you'll be okay," he soothed.

"You like my voice?" she asked.

"And your hair," he added. Her voice was nice for a human, but he figured she wouldn't appreciate being told that though her range was nice, she sounded flat and emotionless.

"Everyone likes my hair, Garrus."

"Really? I mean, I can see why, but... really?"

"Gentlemen prefer blondes," she said with a flick of her wrist while she tapped her toes, underscoring the slight inflection to her tone that he recognized as sarcasm.

"I've actually heard that before. Guess I know what it means, now. So, all this food looks great, but you just got home. Need some time to change or unwind or anything? I don't want to crowd you."

"It's okay. I was all the way on the other side of the station. Long cab ride gave me plenty of time to gather my wits. Shall we be civilized and get some dishes out, or can we eat out of the take-out boxes in the living room?" she asked, sorting the orders into levo and dextro piles. Her pile was a quarter the size of his.

"Being civilized is over-rated," he replied, finding the idea of a casual dinner together much less intimidating than sitting across from one another and trying to make polite conversation. He inspected the contents of a few of the containers and picked one, claimed a glass of wine, then followed Shepard into the living room.

"Should I take that as a warning about the interrogation you're dying to unleash on me?" she asked, setting her food and wine on the coffee table and leaning forward to flick the sculpture, spinning it in wobbly circles.

"I'll be gentle," Garrus promised, tearing his eyes away from the ridiculous object. "That's better than being civilized."

"Do you really think that?" Shepard asked as if she couldn't believe what he'd said. Funny, he didn't get the impression that she disagreed with him, though.

"Civilization has some serious perks, but it isn't fair and it isn't very kind a lot of times, so yes," he answered.

"That's surprising to hear from a... someone like you."

"C-Sec officer? Turian?" Garrus supplied. He really wished she'd finished the sentence. He got the feeling it would have told him a lot about her.

"Yeah. So, why don't you ask me something and we can get the cross-examination over with?"

"Why don't you just tell me, instead?" he offered.

Shepard took a deep breath, then began, "He was about half an hour late to the restaurant, for which he apologized profusely. He asked me to call him Actaion. Small talk about the art show and this fucking sculpture followed," she said, flicking it again. "He might have been flirting, but if he was, he's bad at it. Then he told me he's had some security concerns with his private collection of sculptures. I guess he paid attention to my cases when I was with C-Sec Network. We negotiated some independent contract work and he showed me the secure container that holds most of his collection."

"That's... not what I was expecting. You spent all day on that?" Garrus carefully asked. It didn't add up, but she seemed sincere and she didn't really smell like she'd been in close company with another turian today. Now that he thought of it, Sparatus must have really kept his distance. He couldn't smell a trace of another male turian on her at all.

"He was right, security's a mess and he's got a fortune invested in that storage container, alone. He didn't trust me enough to bring me to his home where the real problem is, but maybe we'll work up to that. The fact is that he doesn't want anyone to know he's into art, and having me around right now is bad news for him politically, regardless of what he claims. I think he was desperate for some help and he knows it's in my best interest not to antagonize him."

"And he thinks you're an art buff, since you ran into him at that gallery."

"And that. Satisfied?"

"Are you lying to me?" he asked without looking at her.

"No," she flatly replied, not looking at him.

"Then I'm satisfied. I'm glad it was just a job. Really glad. Not sure I could compete with Actaion Sparatus."

Shepard set down her fork and turned to face him, "Did I miss something?"

"Someone of his rank doesn't let underlings use his given name," he explained. "I still think he's got his eye on you."

"If he makes a move, I'll tell him no and you can hit him. Happy?"

"Not really. Do you know what they'd do to me if I hit the turian Councilor over a human?"

"What if a human hit him?" she asked.

"Even worse. There's only one thing for it– don't go out with him again. Let him hire someone who doesn't have half a dozen murder cases to solve and a black market leather merchant to corner."

"Oh, I meant to tell you," Shepard said, suddenly looking excited, "I think it's bigger than just a merchant. I think I've got a lead on the actual farm. It's a ship."

"No way," he said. "Who would be stupid enough to run a black market operation like that in Citadel space? On a spaceship, no less?" No, he was convinced the farm had to be in the Terminus Systems. They were looking for a smuggler, not a farm.

"An acquaintance from the C-Sec Patrol fleet told me there's a livestock ship that's been sighted in the system but no one's tagged it yet. It's low priority and it's been hanging around outside of or at the very edge of scanner range for all the standard patrols."

"Nice work. We need to check that out, but getting clearance for something like that is going to take weeks. They could be gone by then."

"We'll see. Maybe I could get the Councilor to pull some strings."

"I don't like the idea of you owing him any favors," Garrus denied, hoping she'd listen. "Besides, he'd probably hand it over to a Spectre and we'd lose the case."

"Am I hearing right? You actually want to do this by the books, even if it means the bad guys get away?"

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me a little," he said, proud of his seamless incorporation of the human phrase.

"Not yet I'm not," she said under her breath, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Garrus didn't even want to know what that was supposed to mean. Forget idioms. Humans were crazy. "Thanks for the... present," he ventured. "I opened it during my lunch break and, well, I didn't end up eating lunch."

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, Garrus."

"Sorry? Now I'm confused."

"Wait a second, why didn't you eat?" she asked, her expression becoming sharp and angry.

"Because of the drawings?" he tentatively answered.

"So you saw those drawings of me and you couldn't eat afterward?" she demanded, some of her anger turning to hurt.

Garrus suddenly realized what she was getting at. "No!" he hastily denied. "I didn't lose my appetite, I was just distracted. I lost track of time. It wasn't… a bad thing. I swear."

Shepard scrutinized him for a moment before the anger melted and she turned her attention to the half-eaten meal in front of her. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little touchy."

"It's okay. Now tell me why you just apologized for giving them to me, other than making me miss lunch."

"I gave those to you because I felt like you were leading me on and I wanted to mess with you. Then you... changed your mind and I should have, I don't know, warned you or something. I'm really sorry."

"You were pissed so you sent me naked drawings of yourself? Who does that, Valor?"

"The same idiot who wears a white dress to an asari artist's show, apparently."

"I'm not seeing the connection. You mentioned that was offensive somehow?"

"Yeah. Long story. It means something like 'your art made no impression on me, because look, I'm a blank canvas.' Security was closing in to throw me out when Sparatus told me what I'd done. He was gloating at the stupid human, I think, but it gave me a chance to redeem myself."

"Well, that's not fair. That's a really strange custom."

"Right? So I ran off to explain to the artist that I didn't mean it and she roped me into sitting for her. Honestly, it sounded like fun, and it kind of was until she turned it into this... sex thing."

"You're not a push-over, Valor. What did she say to make you think you had to go along with that?"

"First of all, she'd been plying me with drinks, so I wasn't at my best. Sitting still for hours while someone draws you is insanely boring, so I'd had a lot more than I should have. And then she said she was going to show the sketches to Councilor Tevos if I didn't follow her instructions. Antagonizing Councilors isn't a good career move, and Penephaedra's attractive enough so I just did it. I probably wouldn't have minded half as much as I did if I didn't already have my eye on you. It felt like... cheating or something, as stupid as that sounds now."

"But she released the vid anyway," Garrus pointed out. He didn't know what to say to the rest. Humans were downright strange about sex, and it was clear Shepard wasn't comfortable with what had happened.

"No shit. I think Tevos had her cornered, so she used the publicity of the vid to make sure Tevos couldn't retaliate without exposing her own relationship with Penephaedra. It was clever. And she could have made it a lot worse for me than she did. If she had any footage that clearly showed my face, she edited it out before sending it to the press. No one can prove it's me with facial recognition or voice print."

"Huh," Garrus grunted in response, not sure what else to say. It sounded plausible, but the whole series of events was so damned strange. This was the kind of thing that happened in holo-dramas, not real life, and not to soldiers and C-Sec detectives. It strained credulity, but he couldn't find anything out of place. He set aside the remains of his meal and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't bad.

"She gave me the sketches to prove she wasn't going to show them to Tevos," Shepard continued. "As soon as the vid came out, I just wanted to get rid of them, but I didn't feel right destroying them."

"Why?"

"They're art," Shepard answered, looking bewildered that he would ask such a thing. "Look, you can do what you want with the sketches. If I'd waited a day, I might have given them to you for a different reason. I can't think of anyone I else I'd trust them to, anyway. That sounds pretty sad, huh?" she said without meeting his eyes.

"I don't think so," he soothed, once again more angry than he could account for at the thought of what that artist had done to her. "Thanks. They're beautiful."

"She's skilled," Shepard said with a wry twist to her lips.

"Alright, let me rephrase that," Garrus amended, "you're beautiful. Thank you. Not sure what I'm going to do with a bunch of naked pictures of you, but I guess I could get them framed and hang them on my walls. Not like I entertain very often so they won't bother anyone."

"Good conversation piece if you did, though," she said. "Hang on to them for a while and maybe they'll be worth something. She actually signed all of them, so they can be authenticated, and I hear her star is rising. One good thing about the damned vid."

"More likely to be valuable because they're drawings of you, in my opinion."

"We'll see," Shepard said, her tone sounding even more dull and lifeless than usual. "Sometimes I think my career's permanently in limbo. I wish I knew what I did wrong."

"I don't think you did anything wrong. Just be patient," he advised, still finding it difficult to credit that she didn't realize how important her current post probably was.

Shepard smiled, then shifted her body to face him. "Why are you being so nice to me, Garrus? Where's the hard-ass, cowboy C-Sec detective who thinks I have some dark secret?"

"He's in here somewhere, but I'm beginning to think he doesn't have a leg to stamp on."

"Stand. A leg to stand on," she corrected.

"Whatever. I'm done with human idioms. They're all insane."

"Okay," Shepard said before suddenly leaning in and pressing her lips against his mouth. Garrus reflexively recoiled, but Shepard grabbed him and pulled him back. Forcing himself to relax, he realized that it... wasn't unpleasant. Finally, Shepard pulled away, though she kept her hands on him and her face was definitely in his personal space. "Have you ever done that before?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

"Not really," he admitted. "Asari are... different, and you're the first human I've, ah, dated."

"You're going to need to practice, then," she suggested, moving closer and kissing him again before he could protest. He put his arm around her and shifted to face her a little more so he didn't have to crane his neck. He tried to mimic what Shepard was doing with her lips, but quite frankly, it was impossible, so he did his best and relaxed, enjoying the sensation and the warm buzz of the wine finally hitting his system. Shepard shifted around a bit, but he didn't think anything of it until she broke the kiss to tug her shirt over her head. With relief, he realized she was wearing a... smaller shirt under it. Maybe she was too hot.

"Don't look at me like that, Garrus," she said, sounding frustrated. "You're making me feel like a slut. I'm not that easy, I swear. But I really like you. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, but what makes you think I'm that easy?" he said, lifting his smallest finger to let her know he was teasing her. "Let's just slow it down, Valor– I want us to take our time so we don't make a mistake."

"Slow and easy isn't usually my thing, Garrus, but I can wait a little for the right turian."

"And I'm the right turian?" he prompted, feeling very smug about the whole idea for some reason.

"Obviously," she smiled, throwing a leg over his lap and settling herself there, straddling his hips. "But if you don't want me to tear your clothes off and have my way with you, you're going to have to leave soon."

"And now I really want to test your resolve," he said, pulling her face close. "I think I'll stay a little longer," he whispered before kissing her again. To be fair, she did most of the work– his lips and tongue weren't half as flexible as hers, but she didn't seem to mind. Kissing wasn't a thing turians did– not like this– but it wasn't hard to get used to. He could kiss Valor all night, and she seemed to share his sentiment. Her hot lips and soft, wet mouth on his sent shivers over his plates, and the way she used her tongue to caress his just about drove him wild. The heat and solid weight of her straddling his lap wasn't something he could complain about, either. Humans were much heavier than they looked. Soft, supple skin instead of plates, but their muscles were dense and hard. At least Valor's were.

Valor gently grabbed his hands, placing his palms just above her hips. She wasn't quite as shapely as a turian woman, but her waist felt just as narrow in his hands. He drifted a little lower, down to her hip bones, exploring her. Shepard pulled his hands slowly upward again, over the curve of her waist, then up to her ribs, Her hips didn't flare quite as wide as a turian's would have, and her keel, well, she didn't have one, so her torso was a lot more compact, but he couldn't consider her to be poorly built anymore. She seemed perfectly formed in her own way, and he supposed she probably was.

He ran his hands over her body, enjoying the play of her muscles and how her chest expanded and contracted with each breath as she continued kissing him. Then the hard planes of muscle turned soft and he suddenly realized he'd strayed to her breasts. A tiny, breathy moan escaped her lips and she seemed to lean into his touch, so he took that as a sign she wanted him to explore further. Hesitantly, he cupped her in his palms. Humans seemed obsessed with this part of the body, but he had no idea what to do with it. Before he could get too distressed by his complete lack of experience, Valor's hands covered his and she pressed, rubbing his hands in little circles, and squeezed, using his hands to lightly knead her own body.

"Like that," she whispered. "Just touch me, the skin is so sensitive, it all feels good. You can pinch here," she said, guiding his fingers to close carefully around the hardening tips– nipples, he thought they were called– "but be gentle," she warned, squeezing his fingers to show him how much pressure. She gasped a little when the pressure became a little too much, then released his hands and kissed him some more.

One of her hands slowly trailed up the back of his neck toward his crest of horns and he had to force himself to relax. He focused on kissing her back as best he could, and on repeating the motions she had shown him to use on her breasts. When her fingers threaded into his crest, between the horns, he growled in pleasure and he knew he had to put a stop to this or he'd lose control.

"Valor," he gasped, letting his hands fall to her waist, "let's... I should go, or this is going to get... heavy very quickly."

"I wouldn't complain," she murmured, brushing her cheek along his mandible in a very close approximation of one of the things turians did instead of kissing. She was deliciously warm and her cheek was maddeningly soft. He wondered if she knew, or if the contact was just incidental.

"We'll get there, but not tonight. I don't want to hurt you," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. If further make-out sessions were in their future, he would definitely need to read up on how humans had sex. He hadn't expected to enjoy this at all and at this point he honestly believed that if it had continued just a little longer, he wouldn't have been able to restrain himself.

"Okay. Just as long as you're not leaving because I freaked you out or something."

"Not a chance, Valor. You are dead sexy, and if I don't keep my hands off you right now... well, I'm thinking maybe I have a thing for humans after all."

"At least one human, anyway," she playfully corrected.

"Definitely for one human," he agreed.

"Are you sure you have to go?" she asked, lightly caressing the sensitive skin of his neck. "I could show you something else I can do with my mouth. I think you'll like it even better than kissing," she said, her voice smoky and suggestive.

Garrus couldn't keep his mandibles from flickering, nor his breath from hitching. He had a pretty good idea what she was referring to and right now it sounded like an amazing idea. His plates loosened as he tried to imagine what her mouth would feel like on him, and he knew she could feel the shift. "Not right now, Valor," he said, not knowing whether to hope she'd argue or not, because he knew he wouldn't try very hard to win the debate.

"Okay. I won't pressure you," she said, gracefully lifting herself off him and standing up. She held her hand out to him, and he took it, allowing her to help pull him to his feet. And like that, it was over.

"We need to do this again real soon," he said, pulling her to his chest. Her arms circled around him and she rested her head on his keel. She was so warm and soft. His chest rumbled with contented pleasure. "This feels good, Valor. I'm surprised."

"Me too," she said, holding him for a moment before drawing away. "It's late. I'll see you tomorrow, though."

"Okay. Goodnight," he said, reluctantly letting her go. She smiled at him and led him to the door. He stole one more quick kiss before leaving, and it was almost enough to keep him from walking through the door. Her scent clung to him, and he just knew it was going to haunt him the rest of the night. And somehow, he was looking forward to that.

A/N: Tune in next week for the riveting and extra long chapter: Solo. My ego loves your reviews, and followers and favoriters support my delusions of grandeur. Thank you. (No, I am not suppressing a mad cackle.)