Chapter 2

Mass Effect © Bioware

As the weeks slowly creep by, Saren has regained a small amount of his old self, yet it isn't enough for him. He has the habit of pacing in his room while Shepard is gone for a certain number of days. This happens to be one of those times, as he paces around in his room like a caged animal. Ever since he'd become less reliant on the machines, marks from his talons decorate the metal floor, crisscrossing in different directions. Saren hates waiting, especially on Shepard's return - he won't say he misses her, but sometimes he doubts he could say it now.

Her absence does keep the turian locked in this room because of the Cerberus operatives' fear of him, which infuriates the ex-Spectre. They come during the times when he sleeps to check his condition, or to leave food he rarely eats. Saren growls, agitated by the fact that it's been nearly a week, and for some reason, she keeps coming back with another turian's scent on her. He isn't sure why that bothers him - it just does. In fact, he's disgusted with himself because of it; he shouldn't care, yet it still bothers him that another turian is trying to claim her; punching the wall, he falls onto the bed. Suddenly, the door opens, and he already knows who dares disturb him by a certain smell that only interests him. "Shepard," he says coolly.

"Hey… Damn, you marked the shit out of this floor," she says, observing the floor. Saren doesn't respond, nor does he look at her. She watches him for a moment before walking over to the bed and cautiously places a slender hand on his shoulder. His body tenses, but he doesn't pull away like he would have so many years ago - except that one night in the mako.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine… I just need to get out of this dreadful room," Saren says simply, rising from the bed. He quickly exits the room, stopping at the entrance to wait for Shepard to follow.

"Are you feeling like your old self? I mean…"

"Not entirely," he answers quickly, avoiding any further discussion of his mental state.

"Good. Don't go out yet. Garrus is still out there… I told him to stay on the shuttle, but he insisted on coming with me," she admits.

Saren halts suddenly, causing Shepard to nearly bump into him. She walks past him after a minute or two, glancing back at Saren as he remains in the shadows of the hallway, unwilling to follow her out into the hangar. A familiar voice booms throughout the large space, which draws out a feral snarl from the older turian.

"Shepard!"

"Hey, Garrus!" Curiosity gets the best of Saren as he peers around the corner, concealing himself in the shadow of the hallway. He isn't too surprised to see the slightly familiar blue markings and the set of icy blue eyes - the same turian Shepard had dragged along with her, who tries to claim what he desires.

Stop that.

His keen eyes notice the scar wrecking most of his face, which causes him to wonder how he got such a scar, but in all honesty, he knows for a fact he, personally, has nastier scars than Garrus'. A growl escapes from Saren's throat when the younger turian nuzzles Shepard's neck as he pulls her closer to him. A pang of jealously surges through him - maybe this whelp has already claimed her. He shakes his head at the disgusting thought. Stop that. Now. You stupid idiot.

He isn't going to allow Shepard to make him weak now, especially after how hard he's worked to get to his current condition.

Shepard backs away from Garrus and starts to head back his direction. "You need to go back to the Normandy and tell the others I'm going to be absent for a week," she orders him, like a good commander would have seconds ago.

"What the hell do you here for an entire damn week?" Garrus blinks in disbelief when she pulls away, and takes a step after her.

"Don't question my order, Garrus. I have business to tend to here," she dismisses him, but the stubborn bastard stays put. "Garrus…"

"I miss you, that's all, and I have this feeling you're hiding something or someone here. The whole crew thinks you don't trust them," he sighs, dropping his arms to his sides in defeat.

"Tell them I'm working on something very important, that may aid us in the war with the Reapers."

"Like what?"

"You'll see… Now go back and bug the shit out of Joker for me," Shepard smiles as she waves him off and returns to the hallway. Saren doesn't bother to look to see if Garrus actually did leave, but he searches her neckline for any committed bite marks. He can't find any, unless they're hidden under her clothing, and if that's the case, he will take his own time to check.

"I'm not surprised you haven't told your crew about my revival," he says.

"It would cause a panic on board, and I would lose a lot of my friends if they ever found out what I did," she says in a hushed tone.

"So? How did you convince the Council to abide to this?"

"Long story short, they finally believed in the threat of the Reapers after I showed the evidence from the Collectors' base, which wasn't easy mind you. It took a lot of convincing on the turian's part, before I was able to start reviving your body," she pauses. "Did you know it would be nearly five years?"

He doesn't reply as he stares at her in disbelief of what she had said. Hell, he still can't get over the fact she was capable of bringing him back to the living. Shepard peeks at him over her shoulder, standing perfectly still as Saren absorbs this new information.

"Why did you waste all this time? Surely not just because of the Reapers. There has to be other reasons," he asks, mostly to himself.

"There were some personal reasons," she admits, averting her eyes.

"Personal reasons?"

"It's hard to explain," Shepard adds quickly and suddenly starts to walk again, only she quickens her pace.

"Shepard, it may not be wise to avoid any of my questions," Saren warns her with a controlled growl.

"I already told you it's hard to explain. I don't even know how to begin with you," she defends herself, not looking at him.

The two remain quiet for the rest of the journey up to the gym where Saren has been regaining his strength. Awkward silence swells between them as it drags on through the first half of the training. After rolling out the mat, human and turian have out it on each other with precise strokes that are only meant to take the other done. Saren lashes at Shepard, nicking her shoulder slightly with the razor sharp talons, but she doesn't even flinch as she rushes forward. It catches Saren off guard, considering Shepard tends to keep her distance. Both fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and they roll, fighting for dominance over the other.

Saren growls when Shepard gains the upper hand by straddling him and a mischievous smile appears on her thin lips. It quickly disappears though as he bucks her off of him and effortlessly pins her down on the mat. "You're getting better, Saren," she praises, reaching around his head and laces her fingers through his fringe. He tenses as she starts to find the sensitive nerves, hissing in frustration. He couldn't force himself to pull away; in fact, he couldn't help but lean down to take in her sweet scent. He becomes disappoint when he smells the whelp on her too—a little too strong on her. Shepard giggles as she wraps her slender legs around his waist and raises her head to the side of his head. He can feel the smile as she whispers, "Got you."

Without warning, the woman under him somehow manages to flip the turian over and straddles him again, only applying more pressure. "That was a dirty trick," he growls.

She shrugs and lies down on top of him, which irritates him even more. "Well, wasn't it you taught me to fight dirty?"

"Stop mocking me," Saren warns her, pushing the female off of him and stands up before Shepard could pounce him again. He stares at her as she stands up, dusting herself off. "It's a little unsettling that whelp claimed you," he comments, recalling the revolting smell on her.

"Huh? Oh, you mean Garrus."

"So it has a name?" Saren flashes his teeth in disgust.

"I never thought you as the jealous type, Saren," Shepard teases, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't recall saying I'm jealous. I just figured you have more taste," he growls. Why should I care? Saren turns suddenly from her, wanting to get away from this conversation. He can hear her jogging after him, but he doesn't bother to slow to down for her.

"Hey! Wait up," she yells as she catches up with him, laying a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. "Damn you turians with your long ass legs."

Saren remains silent in his own thoughts of why he was allowed to even live again and with her. He had his chance all those years ago, but now he isn't sure if he should shove her against a wall and claim her or to allow someone he didn't care for take her. He turns to her, reaching around her waist and pulls her muscular body towards his. Saren growls as his teeth hover over her throat unsure whether to actually take the prize from Garrus or not. He can feel her fingers over his fringe hesitantly feeling the edges, causing a shiver down his spine. Have I become obsessed?

"Saren?"