A/N: This just keeps getting longer. Seriously, I need to stop this. This was just meant to be a oneshot sexy!sparring smutfic, and then it turned into its own mega-Reaper-monster fic. I think I have to blame Eradyn over on the Garrus Love and Adoration Thread for making a comment about sexy!sparring. It got lodged in my head and I've finally worked it out. Sorta.
Thanks for the reviews; I do enjoy hearing what people think, even if I don't agree.
To address some issues:
1. Your whiny-ass bitch of a Shepard swears. A-fucking- lot. What the hell are you trying to prove, dipshit?
Soldiers, at least the ones I know, tend to get very foul-mouthed. It isn't anything personal and usually they don't expect people to take offense, it's just part of the subculture. Shepard is Commander enough not to be amazingly vulgar in front of her crew, but Garrus was a soldier too and she's more comfortable being relaxed with him. It seems natural to me.
Plus I just like being a potty-mouth. They're not bad words, they're sentence-enhancers. =P
2. Thane is OOC. Seriously, why don't you make your Shepard wear lots of eyeliner and listen to Dashboard Confessional while you're at it?
Valid concern. My Shepard does wear mascara, but no Dashboard Confessional. I think this chapter addresses that. In-game Thane is very passive, but I see a lot of potential for passionate!Thane as well. It's just on his own terms. Reserve judgment till after this chapter? It's still a different take on what you see in-game and I'll admit I've taken liberties with exact occurrences.
3. This is like a soap opera. A bad bad soap opera chocked full of alien-testosterone and rampant angst. What have you done to my favorite characters, you sick sick bitch?
Wait, I thought Mass Effect was like all the other old school sci-fi space operas. You go to space, meet a bunch of aliens, and then sleep with them. Or maybe that's just me. .
Relationship drama comes with the territory? Seriously, real relationships are drama-ful and such. There's trust, compassion, and love, but there's also jealousy, pettiness, and anger. At least in every relationship I've ever been in. It keeps things interesting. ^_^
Dragon Age gives you a lot more characterization/one-on-one conversations than Mass Effect 2 does. (I liked watching love interests bicker. But I am a bad bad person and would uh, never do that in real life. Nope.) I was kind of disappointed by the dearth of conversational options so I'm just filling in the blanks with my take. Am I going to argue that it has to be any particular way? Nope. I'm just writing this for fun.
In front of the crew, Shepard strove to maintain the balance between being professional and being approachable. Her role was to be the unflappable, larger-than-life leader; and the situation left no room for her to moan and bitch about it. Secluded in the cargo hold with Garrus, Shepard found her control rapidly deteriorating. She didn't have to pretend with him. Garrus was her friend – she didn't want to be purely professional with him. This was a suicide mission, she understood that, and maybe after Virmire, she should have learned not to get so attached. But in light of recent events, she wasn't about to start beating herself up for it. Garrus was an excellent comrade and a better friend. He listened to her, but officially she had never been his CO. Garrus didn't need her to look after him. But it didn't mean she wasn't going to try.
Teetering on the balls of her feet, she tried to shake off the dizziness from his onslaught. Garrus hit hard, and her side ached from all the jarring movement. He had to weigh twice as much as she did. Punching his natural armor stung, it made her bones vibrate, and she switched to open palm strikes, just to give her knuckles a rest. He was fast too, and she regretted limiting herself purely to hand-to-hand combat. She was good, but this was far from a fair fight. Her tactical techniques for taking down a turian barehanded would all leave permanent damage.
He was very good as well. And he was holding back.
That thought crawled under skin, making her want to tan his scaly hide for the insult. A less irate part of her was glad he didn't want to tear her open. He was fast, but he'd been fighting Thane earlier. She was a little fresher and she was definitely more agile. She circled him, shifting back to defensive tactics.
Ever the impatient one, he rushed her, his superior weight bringing her down. She hit the ground hard, bracing for him to crush her, but he caught himself, shifting his weight so it was just enough to pin her to the ground. She hit him on reflex, but it didn't seem to do anything. She was breathing hard now, and his body was hard and hot against hers.
"Got you, Shepard." His flanging voice was thick and husky. Her spine prickled and she suppressed a shiver. Her mouth felt very dry as she stared at his scarred face. She thought she could read him, but at this moment, she didn't recognize the look on his face.
"Do you?" She tried to sound nonchalant; instead it came out almost coy. She caught his waist in a leg lock, gritting her teeth as she pressed her hips tightly against his. His bony turian parts jutted against her and she tried not to think just how intimate this might look or feel. He stared down at her for a moment, too shocked, maybe appalled to counter her. Taking advantage of his stunned inaction, she flipped him on his back, legs on either side of his narrow waist. Unsure of what to do next (marines weren't usually drilled on how to grapple with a turian - you were usually dead from blood loss by that point), she settled for trying to choke him out. Shifting her weight forward, she held her arm to his throat, but he was wiggling too much. Turians weren't flat-backed enough for this position to really be effective. He tossed her off him and she hit the ground harder than she would have liked. Still, out of masochism or pure spite, she picked herself back up and faced him.
"Getting tired, Shepard?" Something about the way he said her name set her off-balance. It wasn't malicious. It wasn't friendly. She didn't know what exactly to make of it right now, but at least he wasn't out to kill her.
"It takes more than a whiny turian to wear me out." Her mouth was an entity all its own. Here, at least they were speaking again, even if it was only trash talk. It was an improvement over the past week. She went after him again, savoring the taunts and banter, even if it was only by rote. Here they weren't CO and subordinate. They were Garrus and Shepard. A good CO didn't lose her temper with her stubborn-ass de facto XO. But Shepard could damn well be pissed at Garrus.
And then he brought it up.
"You still should have let me kill him." He punctuated the sentiment by cutting through the air, his forearms nearly hitting her.
Shepard spun to face him, having just executed a nimble evasive maneuver. All the doubts and prepared speeches she had been going over, just for this occasion, evaporated. This was Garrus and they didn't have time for bullshit. "He might have deserved to die, but you needed to calm the fuck down."
"Killing him would have gotten it out of my system," he said stiffly, his argument an accusation as well.
Staring him down, hair in disarray, bones aching, blood dripping from her knuckles, she suddenly didn't feel like apologizing. This wasn't the time. This was for working it all out of his system, and hers. She could be charming later on.
"This isn't just about Sidonis. If it was, you wouldn't have gone after Thane," she challenged him and when he didn't reply, she threw all her weight against his limbs. They buckled and he fell, dragging her down with him.
"What happened between Krios and me is none of your business." Garrus held her against him, not letting her get the leverage to launch an effective attack.
"It is when you start tearing my ship up, asshole," she snapped, more irritated by his reticence than any property destruction. His body was hot and hard against hers and she struggled against his embrace. Finding herself locked tightly against his body, she lashed out, striking the left side of his face.
Garrus's grip loosened and she looked up in time to see stars. His head slammed into hers and she cried out as she fell backwards. She caught herself clumsily, reeling from the blast to the head. A three-fingered hand pressed against the small of her back, steadying her as Garrus knelt in front of her. Her brow stung and she felt Garrus's other hand gently rubbing the spot he'd struck mere seconds ago.
"You fucking trying to kill me, Garrus? Your head's the hardest part on you, you stubborn bastard," she complained, suddenly embarrassed that he'd had to stop because she'd gotten hurt. She wasn't so that fragile and damnit, they had issues to sort out.
Grunting, he murmured something as his hands traveled over her bare skin. She swallowed roughly, her mouth tasting of blood.
"What?"
"You're bleeding." Concern drifted into his voice. Finally, something she could recognize. "This is stupid. You're going to get hurt."
Shepard groaned. And then he shut her out again. It was a stalling tactic. He was avoiding the issue and even with a possible concussion, she about to drop it. In fact, playing her weaknesses against her was starting to irritate her. Couldn't he just be direct? What the hell was wrong with him?
"Fuck you, don't change the subject. You're just worried I'm going to scratch up the floor with your scaly ass." She pushed him away; her harsh words set to distract him from her dizziness. She willed herself to her feet. If he couldn't come out and say it, she'd push harder. "You've been an unbearable asshole for the past week. You really want Sidonis that badly, we can head back and get him," she said. It was the closest thing to an apology that she could muster right now. "But you have to tell me what crawled up your ass and died."
Garrus laughed in her face. "Trust me, Commander. You don't want to know."
The title burned like poison and she grimaced. This was worse than Grunt or Jack and Garrus knew better. "No, fuck you Garrus. You don't get to tell me what I don't want to know. You want rub my rank in my face. Fine. Tell me what the hell Thane did to set you off. That's a goddamned order, Officer Vakarian." He wanted to roleplay, fine she could do that. She'd already tried corporal punishment.
But when he only stared at her, that same tension in his shoulders, that same blank mask in place of a real expression, she threw herself at him, achieving enough height to kick him in the chest. Corporal punishment it was then. He fell and her foot hurt, but damnit, if she had to beat a straight answer out of him, she'd do it for both their sakes.
Even if she had the disadvantage on the ground, she charged ahead, hoping he'd stay down. Instead he clotheslined her with one arm and almost instantly, he was sitting on her stomach, holding her flailing wrists above her head. His limbs were long and slender, curved like scimitars. She winced as his knee dug into her side.
"I don't want to talk about it," he announced, and stuck like she was, she didn't have a surefire method of making him obey.
"Yeah, I bet you don't." Frustration overwhelmed her and then his bony sharp knee was pressed against her tender floating ribs. She held back a torrent of curses, both from the pain and the frustration of dealing with a hardheaded turian.
"You're hurt."
She could feel the frown in his voice. It didn't matter. They could slap some medigel on later; this needed to sort this first. "Me? Ha! You've barely touched me," she said, running on bravado now.
He poked her injured side with his knee and she spasmed under him, biting back any cry of pain. She glared at him through pain-dimmed eyes and but he wasn't looking. His fingers trailed gently over the skin of her bared stomach. She swallowed roughly, something about the intensity of his concentration made her squirm.
This was Garrus. He was just making sure she was OK. No reason to get hot and bothered. This really wasn't the time.
He growled her name, shaking her from her reverie.
"We're not done, Garrus." She tried to sit up, but he held her there against the cool mats and Shepard fought not to succumb to the comfort of just lying there. She needed to fix whatever was between them. Chakwas or Mordin could patch her up later.
"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you'll stop this and get some medical attention…and tell me where it hurts." He was grim and she bit back a triumphant smile. Persistence and brute force worked where diplomacy failed. She might not have won the fight, but this was enough.
The look on his face was so bleak, she had to laugh. Maybe he really was going to cut the bullshit and be honest with her. That's all that mattered. She pursed her lips, eyes on him. She hoped he wasn't going to try to weasel out of this.
He looked away, almost shamefaced, and for one heart wrenching second Shepard believed he was going to lie to her face. "Thane wants to pursue you."
She repeated the words in her head, turning them over, trying to make them fit. She'd been expecting something like "not only did Sidonis kill my men, but he raped my puppy." She'd expected him to express some sort of devastating disappointment in her leadership. This was…she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
"He-what?" Pursue? Thane was an assassin. Though he'd always been so pleasant and maybe a little flirty, but was that some sort of cover? Was he trying to kill her?
"Thane has more than friendly feelings for you," Garrus clarified, staring off into the distance.
Shepard's head spun a bit and she adjusted her thought process. OK, so Thane had been very attentive, and she'd had the sneaking suspicion his feelings went beyond simple gratitude, but he'd never tried to push for anything. How did Garrus fit into…? "And so you punched him? Because of that?" she asked. Her overtaxed brain needed time to process all this.
"No. Yes. It's complicated."
Garrus released her hands and sat back, still crouching over her like he was half afraid she'd go for his throat.
She wanted to laugh. They'd been acting like school children because Thane wanted to hold her hand and Garrus was defending her honor because, well because…
The turian cleared his throat and stared at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.
And then it hit her harder than a turian headbutt.
Oh.
So much for having a clear grasp of where the crew was at. Shepard swallowed, now very aware of the fact she'd been rolling around with him in her underwear. Garrus's markings looked bluer than usual and she could feel her heartbeat in her head. Warmth spread through her body and he made no move to get off her.
"It's complicated, huh?" The words were thick and she tried to sound calm. Was she misinterpreting everything? Apparently she could never be too sure when it came to Garrus.
He moved forward languidly, his hands settling on either side of her head. She tensed beneath him, feeling his breath tickle the bare flesh of her neck. The sharp edges of his mouth brushed lightly against her cheek.
She reached out, and he flinched. He pulled away, eyes darting between the ground and her face. Shepard carefully tilted his chin up, keeping her gaze on his. He shuddered above her. Her other hand slid up around his neck, caressing the leathery soft skin. He turned into it, closing his eyes at the contact.
"I'm Shepard. You're Garrus. There's nothing you can't tell me," she said, her heart in her throat. It fluttered there, and she was struck by the sheer relief on his features. The plates of his cowl were rough and textured, but not too sharp to touch.
"You don't need to humor me, Shepard. Thane's physiology is much closer to your own, and unlike Jacob he's not Cerberus's lapdog. He'd follow you to the ends of the universe if you let him." Garrus's voice was wistful and he'd stopped looking at her.
"I-"
"I'll be fine, Shepard." He was talking quickly now, looking unnaturally intrigued by a stack of crates. "Really. Relieved actually. I think I just needed to get all that off my chest and now we can go back to the way things were before…" Panic edged his words and he tried to draw away. Words continued to flow out of his mouth, but she wasn't listening any more. Here was her out. She could pat him on the back, pretend this never happened, and keep her clothes on when around him.
Except he was Garrus. She was Shepard, and she couldn't quite think of a reason to object to any of it. There was no one else she'd rather have covering her six. And when he wasn't talking to her, she'd been miserable. And she couldn't deny there was something intriguing about those dangerous turian bodies. Not that she was a raging omnisexual xenophile or anything. The thought made her snort.
"Shepard, please. I know you're shocked and I swear it won't interfere with the mission." His head was bowed and his fists clenched at his sides.
"Garrus…" Now his name felt strange on her lips and she tried to smile at him.
It wasn't a kiss, because turians didn't do it quite like humans did and he didn't want to hurt her, but he tried, like he saw in the vids. She stayed frozen beneath him for a moment, and then her hands came up stroking his face and neck. But her silence stretched on far too long, tugging at his chest.
"I'm Shepard. You're Garrus. There's nothing you can't tell me." The words comforted him. She wasn't appalled. She didn't hate him.
He began to babble, telling her all the reasons why it probably wouldn't work. He even talked up Thane, intent on letting her know that if it was her decision, he could abide by it. Thane wasn't so bad. At least it wasn't Jacob or any of the Cerberus lackeys. "I don't want to risk you going into anaphylactic shock. And there's that whole social stigma as well…"
She still wasn't talking but her hands stayed on his neck and he wasn't about to reject the consolation of her touch. She probably didn't realize he was doing it and …"Shepard, please. I know you're shocked and I swear it won't interfere with the mission."
"Garrus…" her voice was gentle and he winced, waiting for the final blow to come. "Garrus, I didn't say no." One hand, gun-calloused, but still softer than his, traveled up to this metal-plated cheek. The sensation only partially registered but he exhaled, something like peace settling in chest.
"You're not just-"
"Garrus." His name was a command and he stayed there, eyes locked to hers. She looked straight at him, through the bullshit, the scars, the thick turian plating… Even if he was sitting on top of her and she wasn't wearing any armor, he was more vulnerable than he'd ever been. Even if she wasn't aware of it, and Garrus had the nagging feeling Shepard was, she held all the power.
Maybe she always did.
"I uh…I never knew you had a weakness for men with scars," he quipped. His best response to unspoken trust and soul-searing intimacy was humor. He wanted to do more, but his hands stayed frozen at his sides.
Her laugh was high-pitched, almost like Kelly's and he frowned at the comparison. "Oh yes. I had such a hard time choosing between Wrex and Zaeed, but then you went and stopped a missile with your face. Missile totally beats claws and bullets. How could I resist?"
"You're a hard woman to impress, Shepard." He absently stroked her throat, still perched over her hips. He could feel her pulse in his fingertips. He leaned in, careful as he brushed his forehead against hers.
Her wiggly pink darted out, moistening her lips and her heartbeat thundered against his knuckles. He stiffened as she pressed her lips against his mouth, carefully at first, tracing the sharp edges of his mouth. She ran her fingers against his mandibles, moving back to his head fringe. His mandibles flared and he closed his eyes, savoring the sensations running through his crest.
"How does that feel?" she asked.
"I like it," he said, and brushed her hair out of her face. The strands glided between his fingers, but disappointment grew when she didn't react.
"Human hair doesn't have any nerve endings. Though if you pull it, I might have to punch you," she said lightly.
"I see." He tugged on it and laughed when she smacked his hand away.
"You're the one who crashed into my ribs. You're in enough trouble as it is," Shepard grumbled. "Do you really want to start more?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth she winced. "Ah shit. I didn't mean-"
Garrus grimaced, the moment broken. There was a very pressing reason why they were down in the cargo hold in the first place. He vaguely remembered brushing up against Shepard in the mess hall at breakneck speeds while wearing heavy armor. His heart sank. She didn't need to be down here with him, right now. Not like this. Hastily disentangling himself from her, Garrus stood. He still had to face Thane. He needed to decide what to do about Sidonis. Of all the outcomes he prepared for, he didn't have a contingency plan for this situation. Some tactical genius he was.
Shepard slowly climbed to her feet, her expression questioning.
He tried to think of something to say. "You should see Chakwas or Mordin. They're probably both still on board waiting for you to bring my component parts, so uh, they can put me back together. We can talk later." He laughed nervously at her blank expression. Groping for words, he said what came naturally. "I uh…I need to do some calibrations."
And with that, the Hero of the Citadel, Archangel of Omega, Turian-Agent Extraordinaire, grabbed his armor, turned tail, and ran.
Calibrations?
She should have been annoyed, but an almost relieved laugh bubbled up in her chest.
Calibrations. Right. He was never going to live that one down. Shepard chuckled, surprised at how pleased she was. Garrus didn't hate her. They'd beaten the crap out of each other and it managed to turn into something like kissing. Then she'd had to go say something stupid and he'd taken off, obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation. Way to be perceptive, Shepard. She didn't exactly have a turian fetish, but Garrus was Garrus and the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. She pulled her shirt back on in the elevator, marveling at just how sore unarmored combat left her.
But for the machinery and her own footsteps, the Normandy was silent. Even EDI wasn't over her shoulder spouting facts and figures. With the adrenaline waning, she hurt all over: her head, her hands, her ribs. She didn't think she could name all the places that ached.
Getting off on the third floor, she looked around, half-expecting to see the crew huddled in corners, gossiping about the brawl. To her relief, the mess was empty. She limped to med bay, trying to ignore the state of the mess hall. Gardner would shit a brick once the terror waned. And then she'd hear about it and he'd be cooking inedible garbage just to spite them.
Chakwas and Mordin sat in the med bay, looking suspiciously busy. A familiar sweetness hung in the air and Shepard sniffed once or twice just be certain. Serrice ice brandy. She glanced around, noting two glasses shoved haphazardly behind a stack of datapads.
She didn't want to know. It could have been completely innocent – she'd always though Chakwas and Gardner had something going on – but after today's earth-shattering revelation, she wasn't taking anything for granted.
"Ah, Shepard, glad you're still mobile. Saw Garrus limping up here. Loaded him down with plenty of medigel. Assumed you didn't injure him too badly."
Shepard grimaced as she sat down, letting Mordin prod her side. "He walked back on his own, didn't he?"
"…Commander, are you-?" Dr. Chakwas was at her side, medigel and gauze in hand.
"I'm fine. Really. Think I have some bruised ribs. Maybe a concussion. Minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing to worry about." Shepard held still as Dr. Chakwas swabbed her forehead, clucking her tongue in disapproval.
"No serious lacerations or puncture wounds," Mordin observed and Shepard wondered how a skinny salarian neck would feel between her fingers.
"How's Thane?"
"A few minor contusions. Nothing to worry about. He's in life support…meditating," Dr. Chakwas said carefully. "He seemed very calm about the whole thing." Dr. Chakwas nimbly avoided mentioning anything too distressing. Shepard appreciated it.
"They were both wound a little too tightly. I think it's settled now," Shepard dismissed, unwilling to explain the nature of the conflict. "I'll have a word with Thane after we're done here."
Chakwas regarded her sternly. "Will that 'word' you have with Thane be anything like the one you had with Garrus?"
"Err…no, I hope not," Shepard winced as Mordin poked her in the cheek, muttering to himself.
"Drell not as excitable as turians. Years of mental discipline behind Thane. Situation should be stable." The salarian doctor glanced at Chakwas, inclining his head to the left. "Need to patch you up before you go have words with anyone."
Plotting her next course of action, Shepard sat there thoughtfully; barely cognizant of the fuss Mordin and Chakwas were putting up.
Standing in the threshold of Life Support, Garrus tilted his head back and reminded himself of his turian honor. There was shame in lashing out against a comrade. Even if Shepard didn't plan on punishing him for it (or maybe she did- he found his ability to predict her action slipping away all too quickly), it was his responsibility to make things right.
It helped that Shepard had kissed him in the cargo bay.
"Kr- Thane."
The drell was sitting in his usual spot, back to the door. He didn't turn around when Garrus spoke.
There was an awful moment of silence where Garrus thought Thane would just ignore him. That he would leave him to stand there awkwardly, ostracized and ashamed. That, he decided, would be far worse than being punched, or kicked, or whatever deadly hanar techniques the drell might have learned.
"You've been there for awhile," Thane croaked. "I assume you weren't planning a stealth attack."
"You know me; I'm a bigger fan of sniper rifles, really." Garrus looked behind him, making sure Shepard wasn't right there. He was tense enough. "May I come in?" Manners gave him an opening and for the first time in ages, he was grateful for a meaningless formality.
"Yes." Thane stood and Garrus stepped in, the doors whooshing shut behind him. Thane gazed at him expectantly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The drell's massive eyes were on him, and he decided letting Thane deck him – as in holding still and asking for it – might be preferable to a verbal sort of apology. But what was quicker and easier wasn't always better, a hard lesson Shepard kept having to re-teach him.
"I…I was out of line," Garrus inhaled. "Even if you weren't your usual eloquent self, I should not have-"
"I hold no grudge. I baited you. It was petty thing, but necessary." Thane looked Garrus over, his face blank.
"Necessary?" Garrus frowned, wondering if this was going to be round two. What was this, pick-a-fight-with-the-turian day?
"If you hadn't have reacted, I would have judged that your feelings for…Commander Shepard were not as strong as I initially assumed." He gave a half-shrug. "My actions seem to have clarified matters. For everyone."
Garrus wasn't surprised that Thane overlooked his apology; it was the clean confession of his culpability. "You orchestrated this? You wanted me to punch you?"
"…No." Thane had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "While it did occur to me that you might not react well, I thought the chances of violence were…slim. A miscalculation on my part." The drell's lips curved upward in a wry grin. "It was not my intention to cause such an uproar."
So it was some kind of test? "But-"
"She trusts you. She depends on you. You have a history that I have no part of, and a future that I cannot guarantee." Thane turned his back to Garrus.
Garrus crossed his arms, processing Thane's confession. The entire thing was sneaky and underhanded – not surprising for a professional assassin – but strangely honorable. Thane was far more devious than he looked, and he had style.
"It seems, judging by your demeanor, that you and Commander Shepard have already made your peace. The situation is clear. Her eyes are on another. I would not dream of complicating matters." Thane sounded nonchalant, calm even, and Garrus wondered if he just didn't understand drell vocal cues. Dumbstruck, he rubbed his chin. Still waters ran dangerously deep. He didn't pretend to understand Thane's thinking. Having eidetic memory probably gave one a radically different worldview.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then you have my…" The pause stretched on for an uncomfortable eternity. "…You have my congratulations."
"Thank you." Garrus could not imagine what it cost the other man to say what he did. He knew that if their roles were reversed he could not have been nearly so civil. Guilt weighed on his conscience but he couldn't think of anything that would make the circumstances better. "Back there…you…uh, you got me real good a couple times."
"I know," Thane said with a trace of smugness and Garrus had the sneaking suspicion that maybe the assassin didn't regret the fight as much as he claimed.
Shepard stood outside the med bay rubbing her side. It was a little tender, but the combination of Dr. Chakwa's expertise, Mordin's genius, and Cerberus's cybernetic implants had done wonders on her body.
"Shepard, wanted a word with you," Mordin skittered over to her. "Noticed tension between you and Officer Vakarian. Have forwarded relevant information to your private terminal. Also have epinephrine sticks should there be an allergic reaction. Unsure of effect of turian tissue on your unique system. Chance of anaphylactic shock. Would not ingest. Size difference, chafing, and turian mating rituals also pose risk to health. Have had appropriate ointments, salves, and lubricants delivered to your quarters. Dr. Chakwas and I will be leaving now. Would suggest disabling surveillance equipment in cargo hold should you decide to return there with Officer Vakarian."
Her brain raced to keep up with Mordin's speech. Suddenly Mordin's earlier advice made sense. Did everyone else know but her? By the time she realized exactly how detailed his diatribe was, Mordin and Chakwas were in the elevator and out of strangling range.
Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if anyone aboard this ship minded their own business. Taking a few deep breaths, she headed down to Life Support.
To her the air wasn't noticeably drier, but Thane seemed to prefer it, or maybe he just liked the privacy it afforded. She entered, turning over words in her head. Thane sat in his usual seat, hands clasped on the table in front of him.
"Do you have a minute to talk?"
"I always have time for you, si-Shepard." He inclined his head back and she took it as an invitation. Pulling up a chair, she seated herself in front of him.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Ashamed of my behavior," he rumbled. Even if he was alien to her, Thane still managed to sound truly regretful.
"Is there anything about the fight that you want to tell me?" Shepard worded her questions very carefully. Given what Garrus had revealed, she wondered if she was the best person to handle this. She'd dealt with situations like this before, but she genuinely liked Thane and had things been different maybe… She gnawed on her lip, stopping her train of thought. There was no point dwelling on what-ifs. After Horizon (And Omega. And Virmire. And Eden Prime.) she had done enough of that. She was the commander, if she didn't handle this, who would?
"I assume Garrus explained it to you?" Thane said, as if it were natural to believe the other party would give a fair account.
"He told me about some of it, yes." She arched a brow. "He swung first."
"And missed," Thane said with a small smile that seemed uncharacteristically satisfied. "But we have things settled now, Shepard. I am content to accept whatever consequences you have decided."
Shepard quashed the questions that floated to the surface. They were unprofessional and given the circumstances, she had no right to ask. His calm humility was a shield, and she refused to pry. "You're both restricted from shore leave. I want the mess hall cleaned and I want you to do it together. As you might have been…injured in the confrontation, I'll give you time to clean up and rest. I want you out there at 0400 tomorrow."
Thane bowed his head. "As you wish."
Shepard lingered there a moment longer, but Thane didn't look up.
"Thank you," she said, because I'm sorry would have done no good.
He put his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers lightly and looked at her face. Shepard wondered how he would recall this moment, and then decided it was better not to think about it.
Garrus studied his omni-tool, almost wishing he had perfect recall. Shepard kissed him. She even let him be on top, not that he wasn't used to being on top, but she was Shepard and he had a hard time imagining her as anything but in charge.
That wasn't true. He'd had a fantasy or two about a hotheaded C-Sec officer overstepping his bounds and apprehending a roguish Spectre. She would have to be restrained, and interrogated of course. And if she escaped to take revenge on him, so much the better. His pants constricted and he shook his head. This was not helpful. His hasty exit might have set them back, if there was even a "them" to contemplate.
"Officer Vakarian…Commander Shepard requests your presence in the cargo hold. She has also turned off all surveillance equipment in that partition of the ship." Somehow he doubted having EDI tell Shepard that he was still working on calibrations would do much good. Either Shepard was going to talk about Sidonis or she was going to talk about "them." Both prospects were equally terrifying for very different reasons.
He wore his armor. It was comfortingly familiar and it occurred to him that once he confessed the dark thoughts that flitted through his mind while watching Shepard through the scope of his rifle, he might need it.
Shepard was stretching on the mats. She was barefoot wearing that tight black bra and equally form-fitting black shorts. She lay on her stomach, one leg bent in an arc over her back. Her toes nearly touched her shoulder. The other leg was flat on the ground, taut and lean.
His mouth was suddenly very dry and his plating started to shift. His shaft was hardening and he forced himself to look away.
"Garrus." She looked up at him, a small smile raising the corners of her mouth.
"I uh…"
"You done calibrating?" She teased, and proceeded to stretch her other leg. He watched, entranced. Smooth and long, they bent differently than his, sparking thoughts of testing her flexibility.
"Yes." And he was grateful she let it go so easily. "Things are…sorted between Thane and I. And…" He loathed to bring up Sidonis, not when he had Shepard here, in front of him, all lithe and limber.
She released her leg, and sat up. Her hair was down and he found himself staring at her navel. She was so smooth and delicate. Despite the obvious muscle definition, her skin seemed uniform, no ridges or plates. The sharp bits were in her mouth and on the tips of her fingers and toes. They were very different.
"I…crossed the line in my pursuit of Sidonis." He opened his mouth, and she stood, her waist accentuated by the curves of her hips and breasts.
"I know." There was no judgment there, only acknowledgement. "But in the end, you were able to control it."
"Only because you were there. I wanted to-" he struggled with confession. He owed Shepard the honesty, but was he just sabotaging himself?
"I know. You looked like you wanted to rip my head off. I figured I wasn't your favorite person right about then."
"It-"
Shepard waved her hand. "Oh, I'm pissed off too. You've been nearly unbearable for the past week. Surly, irritable, Saren-like even." His eyes narrowed at that comparison, but he couldn't quite deny the accuracy of the statement. "You've got half my crew terrified of the color blue."
"Can you blame me? What would you do if someone betrayed you?"
A/N:
OK, so I lied. I really thought it was going to be three parts, and then plot threads threatened to strangle me and I relented. Four parts. Really, I mean it this time. Really.
I'm just savoring the last shot before popping the heat sink.
…And that is not the metaphor I should be using. I need to finish this.
I was tempted to skip the character development/minor plot resolutions and skip straight to the smexing, but I kind of like how some of these scenes worked themselves out. Personally I feel like maybe some of the chemistry lost momentum when I made took a break for *gasp* story-crap, but…yeah. That stuff isn't meant to be filler, though when I look back, part of me feels like it is. (That part also says "there must only be hot!turian sexytime" and probably needs a cold shower.) There was a flaw in my construction plan (this thing got huge!) and I didn't have a way to go back and fix it. At least one that made sense to me. (Rough hard Garrus smex while injured just seemed kind of painful. Plus I didn't want to write all about surprise anaphylactic shock.) So I think I made a mistake. Still, I don't think it warrants going back and rewriting the whole thing.
I thought I'd dislike the fact I sometimes write the same scene from a different perspective. (That always seemed kind of cheap to me.) But I think Garrus and Shepard have different enough viewpoints and concerns to make it worthwhile.
/self-critique
On a sicker note, I've noticed some interesting prompts on the masskink meme. I'm now in the mood for reading/writing something dark. Loved some of the vicious SarenxShepard hate!sex. Dominance/hate/lust is sexy. *hangs head in shame*
Some of those were damn well written. If it was one of you, do it again!