This chapter contains non-graphic sexual content that would be deemed not safe for work.

Chapter Nine: Shots

She had one more night to make everything right.

Hauling her bag over her shoulder, Shepard checked out of her hotel room late into the evening. There were three bottles of alcohol in her bag, one bottle her favorite brand of whiskey, another was a popular Turian brandy, and then there was a dextro-levo friendly wine in there too.

She had stopped by the C-Sec offices, grabbing Velio before he left for the day to ask where Garrus lived. She remembered being there once, but was too inebriated to remember any directions.

Why do you want to know where he lives?

To make everything right.

He doesn't want to see anyone. He took almost a week off. Racked up on overtime during this investigation.

Please, Velio. I need to talk to him.

The Turian didn't need much persuasion, and Shepard found this odd, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. A quick cab to the correct ward and a long elevator ride up, she stood in front of his door with her stomach in her throat.

Was she really about to do this?

Yes.

She knocked, fist rapping against the metal door twice. It was then that she realized she could have just buzzed him. Would have saved her the echo of the sound rolling down the long, empty hall.

There was no sound from the other side for a few breathes, so she rapped again and that when she heard the shuffling of feet.

"Velio, I am fine, I sw- Shepard?"

She looked up at him sheepishly, throwing a small wave into her greeting.

"Shepard, what are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?"

"Velio."

"Should have known."

There was a pause, and he raised a brow ridge in question.

"Oh, right, why I'm here." She nodded to herself and repositioned the strap on her shoulder. It was then he noticed the large duffle bag. "I felt bad for missing my shot at Saleon and went to apologize to you at C-Sec but they said you had taken off. So, I bugged Velio long enough so he'd give me your address and then I went and got a lot of alcohol as a peace offering."

Garrus didn't know whether to sigh or laugh. So he laughed, just because it seemed to lighten the weight on his shoulders.

"Come in, Shepard," he offered to her, stepping out of the doorway to allow her in. She took a step.

"You can call me, Toni, you know."

"I know."

.

The sat on his couch laughing loudly at one another. The vid screen was playing but muted, just their words filling the air around them.

"I've got a good one!" She said, catching her breath before taking a swig of her whiskey. "This recruit, Gerald, had this huge piece of lint on his shoulder that he didn't see, but the sergeant caught it during inspection. She said, 'Gerald! What is that on your shirt? Is that a fluffy?'"

Garrus chuckled, sipping slowly at his own bottle of brandy, savoring the sweet burn.

"He said, 'Yes, sergeant Carroll! I must have missed it, sergeant!'"

She laughs again, too far gone to get through the story without being in tears.

"'Missed it? It's so huge! How could you have missed such a big fluffy?'" She continues, reenacting the thick accent of the sergeant. "'Hold out your hand, Recruit Gerald!'"

He laughs, shaking his head at her. "No, she didn't."

Shepard nods and laughs again. "She takes the fucking... the fucking dust bunny, and puts it in his hand, and says, 'Recruit Gerald, this is Mr. Fluffy. Find him a home and when I call for him, you will bring me Mr. Fluffy.' And every time she found a piece of lint she would yell, 'Mr. Fluffy!', and Gerald would run up with this little pill bottle full of lint and she would just keep adding to it."

They went back into hysterics again.

"Ever find out what happened to him after boot camp?" Garrus asked, and Shepard almost sobered up completely.

"He was on Akuze with me."

He swallowed hard and reach across the couch to place a hand on her in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Shepard."

She only shrugged and swallowed another gulp of her whiskey. "That was years ago, Garrus. I'm over Iit."

Shepard was lying through her teeth, but he didn't call her out on it. He would let her delude herself as long as she could stand.

"I have one," he said, a slightly humorous tilt in his voice as he leaned away from her and settled back against the arm of the couch. "Turian warships can get... crazy at times. So, we handle things, grudges and broken bets, in a more physical way. Sparing was activity of choice."

"Wait, you had full-contact sparing on your ships?"

He nodded.

"There was this one mission, me and this recon scout had been at each others necks all week. Nerves mostly, but she did make me lose my shot on a merc and I wasn't happy about it."

"So you took it to the mats."

He nodded again.

"Her suggestion."

"I hope you didn't go easy on her," Shepard says with her own drunken chuckle.

"Actually, she and I were the two best hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, she had flexibility. It was brutal." He laughed again, swallowing more alcohol as his blood heated up. "After nine rounds, they called it a draw. I was so frustrated still."

"That you couldn't beat her?"

"Not necessarily," Garrus smirked. "We, uh... settled a tiebreaker back in her quarters. I had reach... she had flexibility. More than one way to work off the stress." He shrugged nonchalantly, and it took Shepard a moment to catch on.

"Garrus!" She said in a moment of disbelief. "You mac daddy."

He laughed. "Shepard, I don't know what that is."

"The closest definition is a pimp, really. Uh, someone who is control of a lot of prostitutes, but it could also be used hand in hand with someone who has a eerily-natural control of women."

He just shook his head at her.

"Hey, do you have any ice?" She asked, slowly standing from the couch. He pointed toward the kitchen.

"Freezer, top shelf."

Shepard disappeared for a few minutes, leaving Garrus to his thoughts as he nursed the bottle in his hands, feeling relieved that he had no once thought about the disaster of the Saleon case once the whole night. Until right then, of course.

"Okay, my turn, right?"

He looked up at her with a smile, but it soon dropped from his face. She had stripped out of the collared shirt had been in and instead wore the plain colored tank top from underneath. Her cheeks were bright red, making the scar across her nose stand out against the dark tan on her face. She had a cube of ice pressed against the side of her neck to help her cool off. Small tendrils of the water slide down her chest, under the sweaty fabric of the tank top.

"Vakarian."

He snaps out of his trance, trying to create an excuse but she gives him a knowing look. All she does is smile.

"My eyes are up here," Shepard teases him, and he groans to himself, mandibles flicking outward in frustration.

Spirits, Vakarian, get a hold of yourself.

"Garrus."

He looks up, too into his own mind to realize how close she had gotten. The ice was still in her hand, the melted liquid sliding down her arm as she leaned over toward him, one knee on the couch while the other foot stood sturdy on the ground.

"Shepard, I-"

Neither said anything. Neither knew what to say. But nothing needed to be spoken.

"You won't break me," she whispers, and his breath catches. "I'm quite flexible myself."

That was all the encouragement he needed.

His lip plates met her soft ones in a messy battle, his long tongue not hesitating as it swept across her mouth to taste the levo-alcohol and her natural savoriness. The small sound she made in the back of her throat kick-started his heart again. With bare hands, her grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled Shepard into his lap, his tongue continuing its onslaught. She couldn't decide what to deal with first, his mouth or their clothes.

When her hands went to the clasp of his vest and began to undo the hooks, he paused and pulled away. Of course he was thinking clearly now.

"Shepard, I..." he paused, not sure of what to say. "I've never, uh, you know... with a human, I mean. I don't want to hurt you."

She giggled, actually giggled, and he thought it was the sweetest sound. Her hand came up and caressed the side of his head, running over the blunt ends of his fringe before her fingers dug into the hide at the base of his neck. He groaned deep, his chest vibrating with pleasure and she noticed. When his head tilted back, her blunt teeth nipped at the underside of his chin, teasing the softness of his throat.

"Don't worry. You're not the only Turian I've been with, Garrus. I know how to make it work."

So she did have a thing for aliens.

And boy, did she make it work. Within minutes he was breathing heavy, the familiar ache of arousal pulsing between his legs as she moved her hips against his own.

Firm with a little give.

Shepard tossed her tank top off over her head, leaving behind a tight black band. That came off soon, too, leaving behind her muscular abdomen and soft curvy breasts within his reach. He didn't know where to start.

"Here," she said softly, taking one of his hands and placing it over one of the mounds, her thumb moving his to swipe over the hardened point. She made one of those noises he liked, and he vibrated again. She felt it on her thighs. "These are really sensitive, so be careful with those claws, shark man."

"I don't look like a shark," he retorted, his other hand coming up to do the same menstruations to her other breast. This time it wasn't just a sound, it was moan that spilled from her lips as the rough padding of his thumb tweaked the nipple.

"Don't stop," she said, and he obliged.

.

"Garrus."

He awoke slowly, body heavy with sleep and the alcohol still in his blood stream. His head would be pounding the moment his eye met the light, but thankfully the dark room saved him from that punishment.

"Shepard," he said groggy, his arms reaching out to pull her warmth back to him. Garrus was prepared for her bare skin, but instead found fabric in the way. She was back in her casuals. "Why do you have clothes on?"

"Garrus, I have to go."

This made him sit up, searching for her in the dark. Her silhouette leaned back to give him room.

"What? Why?"

Did he do something wrong? Was this a mistake? Did she regret it?

"My leave is over. I have to be at the docks in an hour. I'm going back to Earth."

Back to Earth.

She was leaving him. He swallowed hard, reaching out for her. His thumb stroked the soft side of her neck and she sighed, leaning toward his touch.

"How long will you be gone?" He asked, pulling her close to press his forehead to hers. She sighed softly, her breath washing over her. He breathed in deeply.

"I don't know."

And then she pulled away and he didn't fight it.

"I'll keep in touch, try and not be a stranger when I dock again."

He couldn't see her smile, but he could feel it, the warmth of it spread over him like a blanket. She pushed him back into a laying position, her body half on his. Shepard kissed him, something he was still getting used to, but he enjoyed the feeling of the soft skin on his hide and the path her tongue travelled to meet his own.

"See you later, Garrus."

At least it was better than a goodbye.