She was very warm. The strands of her shiny hair were tickling the softer plates on his face. The female was giving him all of her heat, covering his body with that small human shape, shielding him from the cold. She was numbing his pain. He knew he was supposed to be in a lot of it, but couldn't feel anything. There was only her.

His female.

Garrus looked down at her nestled in his arms, afraid to move or even open his eyes fully. It was perfect, this moment frozen in time. She was perfect. He was drowning in her intoxicating scent and he didn't want to be rescued. He loved the way she smelled.

Time seemed to stand still as he watched her, memorizing every detail of her face. When she finally stirred, her eyes fluttering open, the turian felt his chest tighten. She looked up at him, the violet of her eyes still somewhat hazy from the sleep. As recognition dawned, he saw no fear or reserve in them, only calm, one that came from familiarity and… trust.

Slowly, carefully, Garrus shifted to sit up, cradling the human against him. She remained silent, her eyes roaming his features before settling on his neck with growing concern. He knew what she was looking at, suddenly aware there was not nearly enough pain where his wounds should be.

Why didn't it hurt?

Garrus looked at the floor next to them and saw the empty medi-gel container. Did she use it all on him? She shouldn't have done that. Silly, selfless human, he thought with irritation but mostly concern. She needed it more. She—

The memory of what she had done hit him like a ton of thulium.

"Show me your hands," he demanded with urgency.

"What?"

"Your hands."

The female did as he asked.

He carefully took them in his, heart sinking at the sight. They were mottled with patches of angry red and pale white. Her fingers trembled slightly, nerves frayed by prolonged exposure. Fine lines etched across her palms, the skin raw and tender.

"Spirits…" was all he could master.

"I'll be ok," she said softly, her cheeks brightened with red.

"You shouldn't have done that," he almost scolded, feeling frustrated with her carelessness. And now they had no medi-gel left.

She winced slightly when he examined the wounds more closely, but didn't make a sound, eyes fixed on his face with an intensity that wasn't there before. Garrus felt a strange stirring in his chest as he met her gaze.

The human used this pause to wiggle her hands out of his hold. She sat up straight in his lap, eyes serious now, concentrating on his injured neck. Then traced her fingers along the scaled hide, her touch impossibly gentle and delicate. Too delicate for where she was caressing him. Garrus swallowed hard.

She had no idea what it meant to a turian, being touched on his neck by a female, especially the one who smelled like she did. The throat was one of the most unprotected and sensitive parts of the turian body. Very significant during mating rituals. Exposing it to a mate meant you were submitting and consenting. As her fingers brushed along the healing wounds, Garrus felt a growing pressure behind his pelvic plates and a low, steady rumble emerging from his chest, betraying the one urge her innocent touch had awakened.

She didn't understand. She couldn't.

Why was she straddling him like this?

His body reacted to hers against his will—his heart raced, mandibles fell slack, hands tightened on her waist. His subvocals resonated with the most seductive tones, instinctively calling the female closer, promising her pleasure and protection. Spirits, what was happening to him?

With a mixture of reluctance and urgency, Garrus grabbed at her arms and pushed the human away, making her gasp in surprise.

"Does it hurt?" she asked concerned, eyes searching his for signs of pain.

"No," Garrus rumbled, his voice came out hoarse. "It doesn't hurt…"

Something changed in her face—a subtle shift of expression that he couldn't quite decipher. She lowered her gaze, averting her eyes as a flush of crimson crept across her cheeks, deepening the rosy hue. Was she embarrassed? Just before she turned away, he noticed her pupils dilate slightly, a fleeting but unmistakable widening.

Can it really be? he wondered, his mind racing with possibilities. Does it mean the same thing in humans what it means in turians?

The question lingered, tantalizing. He wasn't sure, but wanted to find out. He watched her curiously, noting every shift in her posture, every slight change of her face. She stirred on his lap, as if uncomfortable, the movement sending a jolt through his body.

His taloned hand gently lifted her chin. "What is your name?" The dual-tones were low and gentle, a softness in his voice that surprised even him.

There was a pause as she gazed up at him, her violet glistening with an emotion he couldn't quite name.

"Katie," she whispered.

He caressed the side of her face with the back of his finger, the sharp tip sinking slightly into silky blonde waves. "Katie..." he echoed.

Her human name was so alien to him. He tasted it in his mouth, rolled it on the tip of the tongue, just to know how it felt. It felt warm and delicate, like everything about her.

"I'm Garrus."

The sound of his own name, in all its simplicity, seemed strangely intimate.

The female blinked, perhaps, feeling it too. Then her face contorted as if in pain. She buried it into his chest, pressing herself tightly against him as her whole body shuddered violently. Water streamed down her cheeks in a torrent. She was crying, but not like before. She didn't try to muffle her sounds. Didn't try to hide her pain and anguish any more. In that moment, all her defenses crumbled, and she let her raw emotions pour out, allowing herself to be truly vulnerable in his embrace for the first time.

Garrus tightened his hold on her, the subharmonics purring a soothing tune, the vibrations he knew she found comforting. Leaning into her, the turian uttered the one thing he was certain of in this moment, "I'm going to get you out of here."

"It's ok," she managed through the sobs. "You don't have to say that…"

Garrus tensed at her words.

"Hey, look at me," he demanded.

She hesitated for a moment then lifted her face to his. He looked straight at her, his voice suddenly stern.

"Don't do this. You hear me? Don't give up. Not now…"

She kept sobbing, hands gripping at his shoulders.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, words barely audible.

"I know," he said softly. "Katie… We are getting out of here. I need you to believe it." He searched her eyes. "Can you do this for me?"

She gasped once. Then nodded.

"Say it."

"We are getting out of here," she said weakly.

He wasn't convinced. "Say it again."

"We are getting out of here," she repeated, this time with more confidence. "Together."

He gave her a decisive nod. That's better.

"How?" she asked.

This was the time to tell her.

"I saw the layout when they took me out. There is an airlock two hallways from the cell. Next to it there's an old communications room, which they most likely use as a storage. If we get there, we can stock up with everything we need, water, food, maybe meds. Opening the airlock would be trickier. We'll need to get our hands on one of their omni-tools. There is an exit to the surface on the other side. So we won't need to go far. But we'll have to go through. At least a dozen thugs. Maybe more. The rest will most likely be on slave grab trips or patrols. The surface situation is more difficult to predict. Depends on what sector of Lindor this is. But we'll worry about it later. One step at a time…"

Katie listened carefully, clearly surprised. It was the first time he shared his plan with her, and she had no idea it was so detailed already. Garrus decided not to overwhelm her with specifics, just told her what she needed to know at this time.

When the rats took him to the fighting hall, he realized how massive the place was. You could walk for miles through its tunnels, endless halls and junctions. It was very easy to get lost. Finding a way out was tricky. Unless you knew what Garrus knew. Places like this had a design flaw.

Lindor's high water table made waterproofing essential for any below-sea-level construction. Facilities like this one had many airlocks designed to cut off certain sections in case of flooding and to keep the integrity of the compound while the water was being drained, or to seal them off for good it they were not salvageable.

In addition to that, every airlock was equipped with surface exit tunnel for emergency evacuation. And Garrus knew it was pure luck their cell was so close to one of those. The tunnel was right on the other side of the airlock. He saw it with his own eyes as they were walking him down those halls. It was very inconspicuous, didn't look like much. You wouldn't know it if you didn't know it. He did. He just needed to get there. To do that, he needed a rifle and an omni-tool. To get those, he needed to be out of the cage…

"How do you know all this?" she asked.

"That's what I've been doing before the war," Garrus answered simply. "Hunting the bastards, making sure they stayed out of turian systems."

"Were there many of them?"

"Not when I was done with them."

His voice had a note of smugness that drew an unexpected smile from her. The expression illuminated her features, transforming her face in a way that captivated him instantly and left Garrus yearning to uncover more ways to bring that light to her eyes.

In response, his mandibles flared in a smile of his own. The gesture exposed the sharp teeth at the sides of his mouth. She knew by now it was not a sign of threat. His eyes were gentle, his turian face not at all frightening. All those alien features were so familiar now. Almost beautiful in some strange, predatory way.

Wiping away the remnants of tears from her cheeks, Katie straightened her posture. Still seated in his lap, she met his gaze directly, her eyes searching his face with a newfound warmth and curiosity.

She reached for his mandibles—they twitched slightly at the contact. Her many fingers traced the lines of his facial markings, leading the small human hand from one side of the turian's face to another. Garrus sat absolutely still, allowing the female to explore him, similarly marveling at her.

The touch of her softness made his fringe tingle… He never felt anything so pleasant, so exquisite. Like the finest asari silk. Turians could never be like that, neither could asari or drell—and he had tried them all...

"What do these mean?" she asked.

"My markings?"

"Yes. They mean something in your language, don't they?"

He was surprised she knew that.

"Service with honor. Valor above all," he recited the rusty words of his people's ancient tongue.

There was a silent pause as they just sat like that, looking at each other. His hands somehow found their way back to her waist, so perfectly narrow in his grip. Her heart started beating a little faster, her pupils dilated. For him. The back of his neck flushed with heat. The seam of his pelvic plates opened wider. For her.

"Katie…"

His voice was soft and vibrating every time he was talking to her in that quiet, subtle way.

Turians spoke in dual tones, and she had never understood what it meant until she met Garrus. Turian larynx was similar to the human one, but could generate a wider range of sounds. She knew she couldn't hear some of them at all, his subvocals undetectable for her ears. But what she did hear appeared to be doubled. It felt like his voice had an underlying tone to it. The extra vibrating cartilage in his throat made it resonate. Whenever he spoke to her, she could almost feel the dual tone of his words going through her and vibrating somewhere deep inside.

The sensation was not at all unpleasant but still strange. Katie wasn't sure how it made her feel. How he made her feel. And his eyes, they were too intense in those moments. Burning. Just like they were now.

Garrus watched her, he couldn't look away. The red of her cheeks worried him beyond his understanding. The depth of her violet drew him in. His talons dug a little deeper into her soft flesh as he pulled her closer… Mine.

Her proximity overwhelmed his senses, completely blocking out everything else. All he smelled was her sweet scent, all he felt was her warmth against him, all he heard was the flutter of her heart. There was nothing else.

He never even heard them coming, never smelled their stench.

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?"

The batarian's crackling voice startled them both.

Shit. Garrus quickly removed her from his lap, shielding her from them.

"And here I came back to collect your filthy dead body, huh? Who the fuck turned your collar off?" Balak sounded genuinely perplexed and irritated.

He was examining the turian with suspicion. Sure, the dog's neck looked all fucked up, but what the hell? Balak thought. Someone turned the damn thing off. Did he have a rat in his midst? It could not have been one of the krogans. They lacked the brains and plus, they saw the dog kill one of his men. They wouldn't even think of doing something that stupid. It was the blue bitch, no doubt. She was pissed at him. She would definitely pull a stunt like that. Undermine his authority, in his own fucking house. Just to mess with him. It was her style. Well, she could go fuck herself. As long as the dog learned his lesson. After what had happened, the turian bastard would think twice before defying Balak again.

Garrus was confused. The thug didn't turn off his collar, and was genuinely surprised to find him like this. Either someone else did that… A glimmer of hope lit his troubled mind. It was possible, wasn't it? And the slaver didn't seem to consider this option. He was too smug, too full of himself.

If Garrus was right, then this was it. His perfect opening. Unfortunately for him, there was only one way to find out. A very risky and dangerous way. Was he ready for it? Was she? It would be his only chance, of that the turian was certain.

There were three of them—Balak and his two krogan guards. All were armed, roused, anxious. He knew exactly why they were here. Could smell it on them. Lust for his human. For his Katie.

As if to prove his point, the batarian leader clicked his tongue and turned four of his spidery eyes to her.

"How's it going, kitten?" he moved closer, eyes wanting. She recoiled. "My boys and I thought we would give you a farewell party, since you are leaving us in the morning."

Her hands gripped at Garrus's arms. She didn't make a sound, but he could hear her heart. The female was terrified.

"What do you say? Wanna have some fun?" Balak crouched in front of the crate looking inside hungrily. Garrus felt his fringe narrow. He uttered a low warning growl. His mandibles flared.

"Easy now, dog. Didn't I warn you about baring your teeth? You want some more?" His tone was threatening, eyes promised suffering if the turian chose to interfere with his long-awaited and much-deserved 'fun'. And he fucking meant it.

Garrus made his bets, praying to the Spirits he was right. He tightened his mandibles to his face, earning a triumphant look from the slaver.

The turian made a low keen and moved to the side, exposing more of her body to him.

That's better, Balak thought smugly. Lesson learned indeed.

He would probably consider keeping the dog, training him better, and making him even more accommodating. But he will deal with that later. Now all he wanted was to rip off that tiny black underwear of hers and fuck the whore hard right here in the cage. The thought of making the turian watch, grumbling and drooling in pain, made him instantly hard.

Fuck. He should have never given the human to that blue bitch. Fort couldn't hold his tongue, just had to blabber that one of their recent grabs was a biotic. Of course, Theia immediately staked her claim. Such was the nature of their arrangement. She didn't care the human was already reserved by the buyer. Was too intrigued by her abilities.

And then that idiot of a Fort got too close to the turian dog and got himself killed. Natural selection doing its finest work, Balak smirked to himself. The moron was too greedy. Came for the woman alone and unarmed. Thought with his dick instead of his brains.

Balak couldn't blame him, though. The whore was very fine.

"Just look at those pretty eyes. Such a waste, huh? Where you going, believe me you will miss us and this place," the batarian laughed. She didn't answer, just looked at him. "I've been a pretty good host, you know. So come here, kitten. And I promise we won't be rough with you… well, not too rough."

A low unconscious rumble escaped turian's chest.

"Silence, slave!" The batarian hated to be interrupted and was losing his patience.

Garrus turned to Katie and gave her the look. Her eyes were open wide, staring at him. Spirits, help her understand. Then he turned to the slaver, his pupils dilated. He darted at the metal bars at lightning speed. Arm reached forward with a deadly grip, talons ready to slash and tear apart.

His hand grasped the thin air. Too far.

The rat's eyes widened, he was momentarily staggered by turian's audacity. Then his mouth twisted with a disgusting cocky smile. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his wrist to his chest, showcasing his omni-tool, the other hand pressing a button.

A second of dead silence. Then the turian howled. His body arched backwards, hands rushed to his neck. He shook and fell on his side snarling and whining like a wounded animal.

"That's better," the batarian grunted, as his attention shifted back to the human. "Now, where were we?"

She trembled, but didn't move. Katie looked at the turian, squirming at her feet, then at the impatient batarian in front of her. Her face was pale.

Balak moved closer to the bars with confidence he couldn't allow himself before and opened the door. The growling sounds of turian desperation were music to his hears. The krogan behind him were getting restless. The scent of her fear got them all roused. They were snarling in anticipation.

"Hurry up now."

She didn't move, just watched the slaver shake as he grew angrier.

"Don't make me come to you, kitten," his voice had a false softness to it, pure threat underneath. "You won't like me if I do."

She sat paralyzed, pressing her body to the wall so hard her back ached.

"You stupid bitch," he spat, getting on all fours. He crawled half way into the cage, promising himself he will make the whore regret it. "I said. Come. Here."

The turian hand gripped him by the throat.

"Oh fuck!"

The slaver choked as Garrus pulled him in and slammed face down into the concrete floor. The turian freed his trigger hand, pressing his knee at the back of the bastard's neck with so much force that something cracked. The slaver had a weapon across his body—the Raptor assault rifle, perfect for firing from a crouching stance, already set at short, controlled bursts. It slipped onto the taloned hand like a glove, the handle adjusting in size.

The krogans were slow, too slow. They wasted precious time by glancing at each other in confusion. By the time they lifted their shotguns, Garrus had already fired. The bullets hit one of them straight into the bumpy forehead. His shot was not that precise with the other one. The burst hit the guard in the chest, his armor absorbed most of the damage as the blast pushed him off balance, shotgun firing up into the air. The turian aimed again, knowing he won't get another chance, his hand steady, breathing slow. He pulled the trigger tenderly, going for a kill shot. And he got it. The krogan fell down with a loud thump.

Only then did Garrus allow the adrenaline to kick in. His heart pounded, hands started shaking.

He looked at the female. She sat up straight, still shocked and rattled, but alert. This was it. She knew it.

His killer eyes softened the moment he looked at her. You did good, he thought affectionately. Exactly what he needed.

When Garrus realized the collar had probably malfunctioned, all he needed her to do was to lure the rat inside while he was faking it. When the collar didn't beep, his other worry was that it would alert the batarian. But he gambled on the rat to be too roused to notice, and was right.

"Alright, Katie?" he asked her.

She nodded. Her eyes darted to his knee.

The choking, grumbling noises indicated the scum was still breathing. Barely. His hands were fidgeting against the cold floor, a pool of saliva mixed with blood gathered underneath. Garrus took his knee of the bastard's neck and hoisted him up to face them.

The batarian uttered a grunt. It was a wonder he was still alive. His face turned into a gory mask. The upper eyes were gone, nose was dented inwards, what used to be his lips now moved in a silent plea.

Garrus glanced at his female. Her expression was terrifyingly beautiful. She looked calm and composed, eyeing the slaver with cold, almost distant gaze. The turian waited patiently for her command. Her violet eyes saw into his blue, expression changing, if only slightly, but clear enough for him to read it. The corner of her mouth twitched.

He looked back to the batarian puppet hanging in his iron grip. It whined. Grumbling sounds poured out of what resembled its mouth, mixing with blood and insanity.

"Plea…please…" barely a sound at all.

The turian's grip on its throat tightened. Talons dug into the soft neck. Another whine. Claws were sinking even deeper, ripping and tearing. Bloody bubbles were coming out of the punctured flesh as it was wheezing the air out of its lungs, clinging to the last moments of the batarian existence.

Then it stopped.

Garrus sniffed it. Dead.

He ripped the omni-tool off the corpse's arm and put it on his own. First thing he did was to seal shut the airlock to their part of the compound. Some thugs were probably already on this side, but most would be in the common area that was located behind it. Dealing with portions of enemies at a time seemed like the most logical way. At least based on the intel he had. As he had hoped, the batarian leader's omni-tool had the override codes, meaning no one else could open the airlock, not for a while.

The second thing he did was deactivate their collars. Despite the malfunction of his own, its magnetic lock was still operational. The device made a beeping sound and fell off to the floor with a loud clang. The turian rubbed his neck carefully. Just as he thought—it would give him grief later, but not now.

He looked at his human. She reached for her own collar, eyes fixed on Garrus. He unlocked hers with a slightly different click—the sound that made her shudder. The much thinner metal ring fell into the pale trembling hand. She froze, looking at it. He touched her arm carefully, understanding the sentiment, but they had no time to dwell on it now. They needed to move. She nodded at him.

Garrus relieved the dead body of the rifle it was carrying and tossed the batarian to the side. He checked the thermal clip and hoisted the weapon across his chest. The turian crouched getting out of the crate, mindful to hold out a hand to his female as she followed.