AN: Garrus' POV. Honestly, I got halfway through this and wanted to scrap the whole thing (thus the delay in posting). I didn't like being confined by first chapter, but in the end I just wanted to explore what was going through Garrus' mind and kept going. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as the previous chapter.

Drunken Fun

Garrus normally didn't drink. He didn't really care for the taste and as someone who was always expecting a fight to break out, he didn't like how it fucked with his senses. But today was an exception.

He'd helped Shepard and Samara take care of the Ardat-Yakshi, and Shepard had given the crew some much needed shore leave. Not that he didn't mind working on the ship. Spirits knew how much he loves calibrating.

But tonight, he really needed a drink. Or two. Or ten.

He'd always admired Shepard. Ever since they first met on the Citadel. He knew that. That much was obvious when she'd died and he'd felt a black hole in his life where she had been. He hadn't realized he'd been attracted to her until that mission she did with Kasumi. In that black dress… But it wasn't until she was alone with Morinth that he realized how much he cared about her. The thought of her being hurt… He shuddered at the very idea of it.

So now he was here, sitting alone at the bar in Afterlife, drinking away any desire he felt for his Commander. He was going to need a lot more drinks…

The turian bartender offered a slight distraction. At least he had someone to talk to who wasn't a member of the crew (because he was sure he was only two drinks away from spilling his guts and declaring his undying love for Shepard). And talking kept his eyes from wandering to where Shepard was seated thirty feet away (though he did sneak a couple glances every now and then).

Turns out it was only one more drink before he was spilling said guts.

Garrus was sure he was boring the bartender, but he couldn't help it. He was excitedly describing Shepard's prowess in battle. How she could intimidate a krogan Battle Master. That she looked so amazingly dangerous (which is, of course, turian for "hot") when she was charging into a fight. He kept babbling on and on about Shepard until the bartender's shift ended.

He noticed the crew filing out little by little. He considered heading back to the Normandy with them, but every time he thought about getting up, he'd see Shepard sitting alone at the end of the bar. He was really tired. And drunk. But he wasn't going to leave before she did. He felt duty bound – never mind his personal feelings – to stay there and look out for her. Even though, let's face it, in his current state he'd be useless if a fight broke out, nothing but dead weight. But still. It was the thought that count.

So he stayed where he was, ordered drink after drink (after drink…) until he could barely remember his name. At some point the last sober part of him wondered why he was drinking himself stupid instead of going over there to talk to her. But now it was probably for the best. He'd just make a fool of himself if he tried that now.

But eventually, he lost track of how many drinks he'd had. There were empty glasses cluttered around him. Whenever he tried to count them he'd get to about sixteen before he'd lose his place and then order another one. Which was probably why he didn't notice Shepard get up to leave until she appeared behind him.

"Garrus?" He nearly jumped out of his plating.

When he turned to look at her, he couldn't help but smile. She looked as amazing as ever.

"Shep-" he cursed himself as he hiccupped. He tried again. "Shepard." Did she notice how whenever he said her name it was like a caress? He hoped not. His smile grew. Oh how he loved this woman. He sighed slightly before adding, "I missed you."

Oh shit. Did I just say that out loud?

But to his amazement, instead of punching him, calling him on it or (worse) laughing in his face about it, Shepard's face when slightly pink. What did it mean when humans did that? He couldn't remember.

"Alright, Garrus, I think you've had a couple too many."

He shook his head and chuckled. He'd had way too many. No doubt he'd spend the next morning emptying his gizzard. But, Spirits help him, there was no reason to let her know that. "I'm fine *hic* fine, Commander. Turians *hic* turians handle their liquor a little better than *hic* than you *hic* humans do."

Good job, Vakarian. Smooooth.

Shut up.

"Well," Shepard said, interrupting his internal berating. "That's good to hear soldier." She had an odd expression on her face that he couldn't figure out. Probably not even if he was sober. "Even so, why don't we get you back to the ship?"

"Mm 'kay." If she was leaving, he didn't have a reason to stay anyway. He slowly got up. Or at least, he meant to do it slowly. And he definitely meant to not fall. But the sudden movement after hours sitting combined with the alcohol in his system made him almost instantly fall over.

When Shepard caught him, he had to resist the urge to hug her.

"Alright, big guy, let's get you back to the Normandy."

Garrus knew he was babbling like an idiot. He wasn't even trying to make sense. But he needed to do something to distract himself from Shepard's arm around him, from his arm around her…

"C'mon Shepard… we can test my reach against your flexibility…"

Wait, he didn't just say that, did he? Spirits, would he mortified if he had. Based on the fact that he wasn't getting his ass handed to him probably meant he hadn't said it. Phew…

All too soon, they were in the main battery and she was helping him onto his cot. Though he usually found the hum of the guns comforting, right now it did nothing to calm him as he lost that precious contact with her hands…

As soon as he was on the cot, he fell back and bumped his head against the wall. It was just too much work to support his own weight. For some reason he was having a lot of trouble focusing his eyes. Blurry images of Shepard danced in and out of focus. Slowly they drifted close, too heavy for the turian to keep open.

Damnit, why'd you have to go and drink so much, Vakarian? He cursed himself. He wanted to burn her face into his memory but his swirling mind could barely appreciate the fact that she was there. With him. So close…

And then suddenly she was even closer. She'd taken a step forward – he didn't know when – and was now inches away.

And then her hand was on his fringe.

His breathing hitched slightly in his throat. He let it out slowly in a purr. If he'd been more there, it would have been embarrassing to be there purring in front of his commanding officer.

Garrus could feel his heart almost stop as he waited to see how she'd react. But then she stroked his fringe again, a little harder. Of all the things he expected her to do, that was probably last on his list.

He couldn't help it. He leaned into her hand, into her body. He wanted more contact.

Spirits, he needed more.

If he were a gentleman (which normally he was), he would have signaled for her to stop. Turian fringes were… sensitive to the type of touches Shepard was so mercilessly bestowing. But he knew he was too far gone. It felt too good. And it was Shepard.

"Mmm… Shepard…" he mumbled. He nuzzled her, wanting to surround himself in her intoxicating scent. Slowly his hand came up and started rubbing her back gently (he was pleased he had remember to be gentle with her breakable human body).

Really, he knew it was too good to be true. That eventually she'd back out and leave. But he couldn't stop his body from reacting to her touch. He waited for her to be offended, to become indignant at him. He knew it was coming. Any moment now. He tried to brace for the loss of her body. Spirits, he'd give anything for her to stay…

And then she was on top of him, straddling him, her hips pressing against his cock in a flirtatious way that begged for more.

He was so scared she'd change her mind. Realize that it was him she was on top of. That it was a turian. His arms were around her, pulling her close, desperate to keep her near.

The proximity was too much for him. He could feel her pheromones and the liquor working their way into the control centers of his brain. He was barely able to keep from biting her, instead he decided to nip in what he hoped was a playful manner. Oh how he wanted to break the skin…

But the impulse was lost as her hands made their way down his back and started pulling his shirt off. He watched her intently as she starred at his bare chest, worried she'd realize that a.) yes, he was indeed another species and b.) no, she did not want to keep going. If she did, he'd be devastated. Not just because she'd leave him now – he could come to terms with that – but because that'd mean he'd never have a shot with her.

And then she looked him in the eye, and there wasn't a trace of revulsion. In fact, there was nothing but mischief as she smiled at him and leaned in. He was vaguely concerned as her mouth played with his mandibles, her tongue exploring them as her hands explored his neck. He tried to remain completely still as he worried that she might get too close to his teeth. But she seemed to know what she was doing.

And as her hands traveled to his erection, he admitted with a satisfied grunt that she really did know what she was doing.

"Shepard," he moaned into her hair. His hands made their way to her pants – which he hated for keeping them separated – but he realized he didn't have the dexterity at the moment to do anything about them short of tearing them apart. He was relieved when she got up and pulled them off, unceremoniously throwing them by the terminal. And he couldn't help but enjoy her hands on him as she slowly, teasingly took off his pants.

It was really too much for him. He needed to be inside her, filling her, right now. He roughly pulled her to him and positioned her hips above him.

Garrus looked her in the eyes. Wanted to know what she was thinking. If she realized who she was doing this with. Understood how much he wanted this, how much it meant to him. But then he realized that his body's need for her overpowered anything else. He didn't care if they'd both regret it in the morning, because right now at least, she was willing to be his.

He didn't really know a lot about human anatomy besides the basics. Wasn't sure how human males compared to turians. So just to be safe, he entered her slowly, taking the time to revel in how wet and tight she was. Better than any turian he'd ever been with, hands down. When he felt his tip graze her innermost wall, he took the time to enjoy the feeling of filling her completely.

"Garrus," she moaned as he pulled her up and lowered her down again. "Oh, Garrus…"

Why'd she have to do that? he all but shouted. Doesn't she know what she's doing to me?

Hearing her say his name like that knocked something lose. Drew out his predatory side more than he had planned. He could feel his talons breaking her skin. Could barely hold back the urge to bite down and force her submission.

Her tightness spoke volumes about human coupling. She could barely hold him. He tried not to let himself be overcome with male pride knowing that he was, in fact, the biggest to ever have her. If it weren't for the alcohol in his system, he was sure he'd be pounding her a lot harder. He let his drunken state set the pace. It was the only way he could be sure to be gentle enough.

They were both moaning and gasping, sweating and crying out. He was overcome by the depths of his feeling for the woman on top of him and kept marking her anywhere he could reach. Regret or no, he wanted there to be proof this happened. He couldn't help but go a little harder and deeper than he should, wanting her to still feel this tomorrow. But he couldn't feel guilty when her heard her moan his name and claw at him. Spirits, how she wanted him. He was more than willing to oblige.

He branded it into his memory as she screamed his name in ecstasy.

He followed shortly behind her, filling her very depths with his desire. "Oh Shepard…"

His body went slack. He could feel it shutting down in his post-coital haze. He had lost his tenuous grip on the world around him. Didn't feel the passing of time as he should have. Garrus could sense her leaving. Tried to reach for her. He wanted to beg her to stay with him. Just for tonight.

Just let me pretend for one night, Shepard...

But in the end, his talons grasped nothing but air.