Here's the new chapter! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much to everyone who wrote reviews! I'm writing like a mad woman to make sure I can keep updating often.
The files that Mordin had sent to Thane's Omni-tool were detailed, to say the least. Thane was fairly certain that he did not need to know about human male arousal patterns (although he noted that Drell refractory periods were significantly shorter), and he knew that he would never find a use for the facts about number of ribs or average female hair length that were now a permanent part of his memory. Still, there had been some useful information amongst the more absurd and obscure details, and he had gleaned an overall understanding of how human bodies were both similar and different to Drell.
The reading material had also piqued his curiosity about Shepard's body. From what little he had felt in their small touches and occasional light kisses, Shepard's skin was significantly softer and smoother than his own. It also felt very fragile, as though running a sharp fingernail over its surface would split it open. He knew that this was not actually the case, as had been demonstrated by the human team members' resilience in battle, but it still captivated him and made him nervous at the same time. The information about hair had also intrigued him. He had already been fascinated by this uniquely human attribute, but reading about how hair could be used during sex made it even more interesting. He knew that hair itself had no nerves, and thus could not feel pain or pleasure, but he hadn't realised that the roots were connected to thousands of nerve endings along the scalp, and that playing with or pulling on hair could produce pleasure in humans. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, imagining Shepard letting out a small moan as he threaded his fingers through her hair.
He checked his Omni-tool again. Dinner was still two hours away. Groaning, he leaned back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling as he focused on sending his mind somewhere else. Somewhere other than above Shepard, her hands grasping him and pulling him towards her as he kissed a trail down her soft, warm neck.
Thane pushed himself up out of the chair. This wasn't working. He needed to distract himself. It was bad enough that he had just read all about Shepard's body and sexual pleasure, but knowing that Mordin had likely given her similar information about him and that she was possibly reading about his own erogenous zones just made it worse. It had obviously been far too long since he'd been with a woman. Dropping to the ground, he began doing push-ups, working to take his mind off the tantalizing mental image of Shepard knowing all the right places to touch and tease him. He huffed as he dropped to the ground and pushed himself up, quickly falling into a fast rhythm that, while not overly strenuous, had him breathing heavily. It worked, at first, but then the rhythm got him thinking about another sort of rhythm that could develop between two bodies, hips pistoning forward to bring a lover to her peak. He stopped doing push-ups and switched to crunches, but that just made him painfully aware of the bulge in the front of his pants. Sighing, he lay flat on his back, and began practicing meditation breathing techniques. Breathe in… 2, 3, 4, breathe out… 2, 3, 4… This pattern repeated, slowly calming his mind and bringing him to a peaceful, trancelike state. It wasn't long before he started to drift off, slowly easing his way into sleep.
Once again, he dreamed of Shepard, but this time it wasn't the intense dreams about kissing her that he had been having, but something far worse. He was tied to a chair, naked, unable to move. Shepard stood in front of him, a smug smile playing on her lips.
"Not so stealthy when you're all tied up, are you assassin?" she said, and ran her fingers up across his torso, her nails scraping lightly in a path from his abdomen to his collarbone. He tried to maintain a tranquil pattern of breathing, to keep his body calm, but when her fingernails reached the sensitive folds on either side of his neck, the spike of arousal was too intense, and he felt himself getting hard. He didn't like being restrained; unable to defend himself, or touch her for that matter, but his body didn't seem to mind. Shepard obviously noticed it too. "Well, seems like you're enjoying yourself," she laughed, cold and mocking, "Maybe I can get what I'm after without having to resort to more… unpleasant methods." Her eyes flicked over to a wall nearby. Thane followed her gaze, and found himself staring at an array of implements more commonplace in a dungeon than a bedroom.
"What are you doing, Siha?" he asked. Now he was just confused. That confusion quickly turned to alarm when the next sentence passed Shepard's lips,
"You think you can just waltz onto my ship and try to kill me? I'm going to find out who sent you. We can do it the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice." Thane began struggling in earnest against the bindings on his wrists.
"I haven't tried to kill you, Shepard. I would never harm you," he said while simultaneously trying to work his hand through the loop of rope behind his back. Shepard made that same cold, hard laugh,
"Okay, hard way it is," she said, and reached over to grab some sort of device that, when she flicked the on switch, arced with electricity. Thane's eyes widened, and he began to thrash, desperate to get free and stop her, desperate to figure out what was going on. Shepard's eyes lit with heartless glee as she brought the instrument closer to his chest, and a spike of current jumped to Thane's skin, causing his muscles to tighten painfully. Any initial arousal that he had felt was gone, replaced by pain and horror. She smiled, and brought the device in for another shock, and Thane jumped, his eyes opening suddenly.
He was lying on the floor in Life Support, and he couldn't breathe. A cough racked his chest, and he pulled himself up into a sitting position, struggling to pull in enough air. He didn't know if the dream had brought on the sudden shortness of breath caused occasionally by Kepral's Syndrome, or if the shortness of breath had brought on the unpleasant dream, but regardless, there was a terrifying moment between coughing out one lungful of air and pulling in the next where he wasn't sure if he'd be able to draw another breath.
Understanding that panic only made his symptoms worse, he quickly fell back on his training as an assassin, and the variety of techniques he knew for calming both mind and body. It was difficult at first, but the frantic thudding of his heart gradually slowed and his breathing returned to a regular pace. Fortunately, although his Kepral's Syndrome was fairly advanced, these attacks were still few and far between. Most of his symptoms were of a milder, everyday variety, and were manageable with exercise and treatment. EDI's voice suddenly came over the comm.
"Are you alright, Thane?" the ship's AI asked, "The Normandy's internal systems showed that you had an elevated heart rate and decreased breathing. I was not certain if you would wish for me to contact Doctor Chakwas, as I could see that you were attempting to manage the problem on your own." Thane took a moment before answering. He was not pleased that he must have missed a camera hidden in Life Support if EDI could still see him, but he would be able to search his makeshift quarters again – he looked at the time on his Omni-tool – after dinner with Shepard.
"Thank you, EDI," he said, "But I'm fine now. Would you please tell Commander Shepard that I will be at her quarters by 19:05." It was still only 18:50, but he needed a few minutes to catch his breath and recover from the dream. EDI replied in the affirmative, and Thane was again left alone.
He was not the sort of man to be nervous around a woman, but Shepard put him off-centre on a good day, and the dream had only served to magnify that anxiety. He tried to reason with himself, the sensible part of his brain informing the less-rational parts of him that there was nothing to be concerned with, and that this was the same Shepard with whom he had spoken and dined alongside dozens of times before. While it may have been marginally effective, he still found himself needing to slow his breathing and calm down when he stepped into the elevator several minutes later. Whatever Shepard had in store for him, he only hoped that it would go more smoothly than his dreams through the past week, or Doctor Chakwas might find herself having to perform an autopsy on him instead of her usual Kepral's Syndrome treatments. As the doors closed in front of him, he sent a silent prayer to Arashu, and added an extra line to the end of the traditional supplication,
"And please, Arashu," he said, "Help me to not make a complete fool of myself tonight."