A/N: Wow, thank you everybody for the reviews and the favorites and for following the story! I really appreciate them and they sure motivate me to write more. :)
A big thank you to The Red Celt for beta reading the story and correcting mistakes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Shepard stood on the other side of the door, cheeks burning, heart racing, and it took her quite a while to collect herself and calm down. His eyes... His voice... They awakened a primal hunger in her that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Her days were spent fighting enemies and getting things done for others; her own needs had taken a back seat. Until now. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and eventually managed to stroll through the Mess Hall without giving away any hint about the raging fire that was burning inside her.
She needed even more self-control the next day, when she took Garrus and Thane with her to a Blood Pack base on Zada Ban. Every time Garrus looked at her or his hand brushed against hers she felt a jolt of electricity rush through her veins. Thane raised a puzzled eyebrow when her concentration slipped for a moment and she almost had her head blown off after she'd peeked out of cover a little too soon.
"Are you okay?" Garrus asked in a concerned voice, turning towards her after he'd picked the sniper off with one efficient headshot.
"Yeah. Sorry - I was just distracted for a second," she said, rubbing the back of her neck with her gloved fingers. She mentally kicked herself for being so careless, called on her strict training, and managed to block out Garrus's charm for the rest of the mission.
She finally let herself relax on their way back to the Normandy. She sat in the shuttle, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Thane and Garrus were seated on the bench on the opposite side, facing her. Thane's eyes were closed - he was probably meditating -, but when she looked at Garrus she found that he was watching her intently. Their eyes locked onto each other and he flashed her a toothy grin. Her stomach trembled and she blushed, but she returned his smile with one of her own.
When they were back on the ship Garrus let Thane board the elevator alone, staying behind and lightly touching Shepard on the elbow, letting her know that he wanted to talk to her. The drell gave them a small bow and entered the cabin, and when the door closed behind him Garrus bent down and whispered in her ear, "Do you have a minute?"
"Umm... Sure. I'll come and see you in a little while," she replied in a low voice, the hair standing up on the back of her neck at the sensation of his hot breath against her skin.
He nodded and walked into the elevator to go to the crew deck, punched the button, then turned around and kept his gaze on her as the door closed.
She checked her messages then went to talk to Mordin about the state of his experiments on the Collector samples. She found him at his terminal, as usual, buried in work.
"Shepard. How can I help?" he greeted her without looking up.
"Have you got a minute to talk?" she asked as she watched his nimble fingers fly over the console, rapidly entering some data that most likely only made sense to him.
"Perhaps later. Trying to determine how scale-itch got onto Normandy. Sexually-transmitted disease." He inhaled sharply. "Only carried by varren. Implications unpleasant."
She was about to turn around and leave when he spoke again.
"Actually," his fingers stopped their dance and he straightened up, cupping his chin with one hand while he supported his elbow with the other, "might be good to talk."
"Okay," she looked at him expectantly.
"Cerberus crew not used to close contact with aliens. May explain problem with scale-itch." He waved his hand at the console, as if that nasty medical condition was hiding right there. "Might be good idea to put together information packet."
"Umm... What?" She wasn't sure she understood where he was going with all this.
"Ship has drell, turian on board," he explained. "Crew might also meet other races on shore leave. Aware that mission is dangerous," he took a deep breath and his eyelids closed for a second. "Different species react differently to stress. Sexual activity normal stress release for humans and some other species. Still, want to recommend caution to crew. Warn of chafing with turians, possible rash from prolonged skin contact with drell. Ingestion of turian's tissues may result in allergic reaction; oral contact with drell may cause mild hallucinations."
She stared at him, wondering how this conversation could have veered in this direction. All she had wanted was to ask how his work with the Collector samples was progressing. But he calmly continued, as if they were discussing something totally ordinary, like the next day's duty roster.
"Want to let crew know, can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Can also provide diagrams and brochures about erogenous zones, comfortable positions for different species." He looked at her intently, as if he was waiting for her to say something. "So?" he finally asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Yes?" she asked back, confused. She wasn't sure what exactly he wanted from her after this speech.
"Agree about putting together informational packet and distributing to crew?" he tilted his head and raised his left arm, his right hand hovering over his omni-tool.
"Umm... Sure," she nodded, and watched with amusement as he immediately went to work pulling up all that data and material and assembling them into one folder.
She started to leave, but a thought occurred to her and she turned back, the corner of her lips curving into a smirk.
"What about salarians? Is there anything people should be aware about?"
"Hmm?" he looked up. "Oh. No issues with salarians. Low sex drive," he said matter-of-factly, and turned back to his omni-tool.
She stood there, gaping at him for a few seconds, but finally decided that she'd had heard enough, strolled through the door with a chuckle, and headed to the Main Battery.
The elevator ride was agonizingly slow as usual, giving her ample time to mull over Mordin's little lecture. She wasn't particularly concerned about chafing or allergic reactions, but still, the reminder that she and Garrus were two different species made her wonder if they were crazy even considering this..."blowing off steam" thing. By the time she finally arrived on the crew deck her mood had darkened enough to prompt every crewman she encountered in the Mess Hall to try to blend into the environment and become as inconspicuous as humanly possible.
"Something wrong?" Garrus asked when she entered the Main Battery. He'd known her long enough to be aware that when her eyebrows crinkled and she chewed her lower lip like that there was something not entirely pleasant on her mind.
"Garrus. I've been thinking about...you know... what we talked about." She cast a desperate look at him, hoping that she didn't have to go into more details than that. She was Commander Freaking Shepard, the savior of the galaxy - why was she so reluctant to say these things aloud? She sighed and, seeing his confused expression, went on. "Are you sure that it's such a good idea that we... ease tension... together?"
"Have you changed your mind?" he asked in a low voice, his stomach tightening with worry.
"I don't know..." She shook her head and stared at the floor, as if the answer was written right there among the patterns of the metal plating and she just had to decipher it. "It's just that... I never considered a cross-species... umm... affair... before. Are you sure you don't want somebody of your own race?" She looked up and leveled her gaze at him, and when her eyes met those beautiful, blue, piercing eyes of his, her heart thudded in her chest so hard that she was afraid that he could hear it.
"Shepard," his voice rumbled warmly, sending chills down her spine. When did those sub-harmonics become so sexy? She'd always thought that his voice was quite pleasant, but now... just hearing him talk made her stomach tremble.
"You're the only one that I want," he said, "nobody else. I don't care that you're not a turian. We can make it work. Besides, it's not just about blowing off steam," he added, and he looked so sincere that her heart started to sing inside her chest. "It's about us. But... if you're uncomfortable with this, that's okay. I'm not trying to pressure you."
"Garrus," she started, the cloud above her head dissolving into a sunny smile on her face, "I... No, I'm not uncomfortable with the idea. Just a little nervous. But I want to try it with you." She took a step forward and put a hand on his arm, her eyes searching his, finding the same emotions as the ones her chest was swelling with: affection, trust, desire.
He slowly bent down and touched his forehead to hers. She reciprocated the gesture, and they stood there for a few seconds like that, the intimate brush of their skins sending the kind of warmth through their bodies that they both had been lacking for such a long time.
"So," she finally pulled back enough to look up at him, "what did you want to talk about?"
"I wanted to invite you to dinner when we're on the Citadel again. I know this nice little restaurant where they serve human and turian dishes. I thought you might like it," he added with a smile.
"Like a date?" she grinned happily. She hadn't had one of those in god knows how long.
"Yeah," he purred and stroked her arms gently with his talons.
"That would be great. We're going to dock there soon anyway - we have to stock up on some supplies. I'll declare shore leave and you can show me that place."
"The perks of being the commander," he smirked.
"Yep," she laughed, then reluctantly pulled away to leave. "I have to get back to work. Talk to you later, Garrus."
"I'll be here when you need me," he said, and she knew that it was true. He was always there for her when she needed him.
She turned around and left, with a big smile on her face this time.