Part IV - Drain

The piercing light shone through his eyelid, sparking him back to consciousness. He let out a grumbling hum and stretched his jaw in a wide yawn, slowly awakening from the hazy, cushy mist of slumber. A low, droning whirr. Pleasant to the ear. He recognized the lull of passing hovercars, of a busy Ward lane. Then, he felt cold. And sweaty. Something heavy and warm, sharp and pointy in quite a few places, corrugating over his side. His arm felt deadened, a sea of tiny prickles and tingles cascading along his muscles, from shoulder to wrist.

Her.

He recognized the ridged surface of her body pushing against his and could not help himself but smile wildly. The weight of her head, nestled over the hollow of his shoulder, felt dreamy and comforting. The shape of her mandible was sharply imprinted in his skin, but he did not mind the prickly sensation. He listened carefully, focusing on the quiet, slow rhythm of her breathing. Was she still asleep? He flexed his fingers to dispel the deadened prickles and his hand flattened over the taut, fit skin of her waist. He dared not move his arm yet out of fear of waking her.

A strange thought sprung to his awakened mind. About how he could feel her bones against his skin, how even through his eyes were closed he could draw the map of her undulating armored body from memory and touch alone. It felt all the more familiar to him, bringing back times to his mind where they would sleep through the day together, bodies intertwined just like they are now.

He loved those bones of hers.

It felt like waking up to peace made flesh.

A faint, bittersweet smell of sweat, warm skin and sex hung in the air, bringing back to his addled mind bubbles of pleasant memories of what transpired with her moments... Or hours ago? How long did he doze off? Something slowly brushed over his chest before gently pushing against him. Three long digits splayed across his chest, resting over his heart. Suddenly aware of the soft, warm breath that blew against his neck, he carefully turned his head and glanced to his side.

There she was, he quietly thought to himself, smiling instinctively at her sight. Her face looked as stoic as ever, but there was a relaxed look to her. As her mandibles rested lax and loose over her jawbone, the white gleam of her sharp fangs peered through the opening of her wide maw. Her breathing came in a slow and whistling rhythm because of it, even as the ridges of her flat nose opened and closed in rhythm.

However, what struck him the most about her sleeping -or more fitting, struggling to fall asleep- form was the way her eyelids fluttered over her dozy, unresponsive eyes. Each time her green pupils disappeared under her lids, she would make a slight sight and pry her eyes open, yet her eyelids would fall again. She didn't even seem to notice he was awake, stuck as she was in a cruel struggle against the weight of her own eyes.

It was a rare, precious sight to see his lover in such a vulnerable, eye-catching moment. For a moment, he wondered if it would not be better not to move and watch her lose in the battle against sleep she was clearly losing. Yet his own naked body felt cold and sticky, and her leathery couch was not the most comfortable place for both of them to spend the night. With a ping of regret at breaking her drowsiness, he began to gently shake his shoulders under her head. When that didn't cut it, he moved his free hand to gently cup her neck and thumb through her cheek-plate.

She let out a faint hum and shut her mouth, her eyelids were resting and would not flutter back open. With a smirk, he shuffled on the couch, twisting his shoulder in an uncomfortable angle, but leveling his mouth with her own. He laid a gentle, shallow kiss on her flat, pumice-like lips. A familiar warmth and tender sense of comfort followed this intimate greeting, and soon enough, he could feel a lively eagerness sparking back in his lover. He closed his eyes to better concentrate on the queer feeling of her half-asleep, half-awake breath. A slight change of angle and firmer touch let him gently pry her sharp mouth open. She let out a long, soft whimper as she embraced him. She slowly crossed her taloned hand upward over his chest, before gently grasping at the back of his neck to pull him a little closer, tightly against her. He drank her heavy, dry breath, and was spurred by a growing desire to deepen this kiss. The tip of his tongue fell upon her lips before being met with her own in a shy and tender caress. She held him still as a nimble warmth lazily rolled sometimes under his tongue, sometimes against his lips.

But then, she suddenly retreated and shattered their kiss by pulling her head backward. Left gawking goofily with his tongue half stuck-out, he opened his eyes only to be greeted by the sight of her maw open wide and tall. For a second, an ancestral and primal part of his psyche lit up in fear of the sight of dagger-like fangs pointed straight at him. She froze in this strange position, mandibles held far apart, eyes welded shut. Then, with a long shiver that made her mandibles flutter, she let out a long drawn-out, indolent whine...

Yawning.

He caught her yawning.

Yawning without a care in the world, right in front of his face. Yawning wide enough for him to see the strange architecture of her inner mandible muscles and shimmering palate.

For a brief moment, he thought that catching a turian yawning should be on the same lucky happenstance as catching the sight of a glittering C-beam.

Then he yawned in turn, half as wide but twice as noisily, caught by the contagious nature of the sight and sound. After a vain attempt in fighting back the boor reflex, he let his yawn prolong into a body-shivering roar. Through one half-opened eye, he watched as his lover stretched and flexed her long spindly arms in the air, mandibles fluttering in a dull chatter against her jaw. Then, as he snapped his jaw back shut, he felt her hand fall gently across his face. Her green eyes looked back at him through a slightly groggy expression. He blinked hard, trying to shake off his own woozyness, and felt her thumb roll slowly over his cheek to wipe away at his teary lid.

"Hello." she simply said, mouth curving into a slight smile.

"Hello." he mirrored with a gravelly voice.

He moved his hand to grasp her own, squeezing her long fingers over his face. As their gazes locked in one another, they stayed a moment still and tranquil, giving time for minds and senses to awaken anew. Absentmindedly, his eyes wandered from her thin vertical black pupils, over the flexible bone plates of her brow, to the way the ridges over her flat nose opened and closed with the slow rhythm of her breathing.

Funny how her otherworldly alien attributes only added to her charm.

An exotic, alien body that harbored a sensitive and caring mind.

Different yet relatable.

And he loved her entire being for it.

"I almost fell asleep..." she murmured, trailing on the last word until it morphed into a cute small yawn, "... waiting for you to wake up."

He let out a chuckle, amused by her proud front and her groggy eyes. He tried to turn his shoulders to embrace her, but his back suddenly felt like it was tearing apart. His bare skin, glued to the leathered couch through sweat and pressure, made quite the striking and painful sound. He let out a yelp at first, then a boisterous laugh. Prickled wide awake, he squirmed clumsily on his elbow to unwrap himself out of the couch's sticky grasp.

"Remember that part about going for a shower?" he mumbled, twisting and turning his body out of the couch's sticky grasp. Now in a sitting position, elbow on his knees, feet on the steely ground, he heaved loudly and tried to not focus on the prickly sensation all along his back. He turned his head toward his turian lover and smiled at her. "Feels like now would be the best time to hop in it, innit?"

"Mmm..."

Beside him, the svelte alien began to stretch widely, arms held up high in the air as she let out a strained hum. Her mandibles fluttered against her jaw in a dull clickety rhythm. Then, after relaxing her entire body into limp beatitude, she brought her knees close to her belly and with a little push rolled herself into a sitting position behind him.

"What time is it anyway?" he wondered aloud, looking through the window at the ever busy Ward, still full of bright neon lights and busy antigrav traffic. Living on a space station often meant being unable to keep track of time. Out there in deep space, with no dawn nor dusk, no sun or moon to keep an eye on would mean that time would feel eerily... halted.

An uneasy feeling wormed its way through him. A form of unbalance or disorientation at not being aligned on the all-mighty galactic clock anymore. He had a slight frustrated smile and scratched his beard and neck absentmindedly before leaning forward, reaching for the scattered clothes on the ground. "Like... What time is it really?" he mumbled, feeling some clothes in search of his holo-tab.

"Who cares?" she gently said behind him, carefully sliding her arms around his side to embrace him. "Who cares about the time?" she followed in a whisper. Her tone was mellow and nonchalant, in contrast to her usual sternness. She gave a gentle pull of her crossed arms over his belly and he let himself be brought against her body. Then, she shuffled behind him until he could feel the ridge of her thoracic ridge mold snugly against his spine. She leaned her head against the side of his own and he could guess the shape of her mandible pressing against his nape. "It's better this way... Not knowing." Her voice came in an enthralling whisper, somehow louder than the diffuse brouhaha from the Ward below.

He let out a gruff hum in response and, without really thinking about it, leaned against her a little more. Her arms closed a little tighter around his side, her embrace feeling a little more snug, a little more warmer.

"Feels like back then, don't you think? We would wake up looking like a mess and laze around all day, without a care for anything. It was just you, and me... Together here." she followed, her exotic, breathy voice transfixing him like a siren's song. She lowered her chin and to lay a flat kiss against his shoulder. "It's one of my favorite memories, this feeling of oblivion... shared with you. So why not forget about everything for a while, you and I?"

A rhetorical question. He let out another, weaker hum, surrendering himself to the thrall of her voice and sheltering embrace. A dizzying high born out of her flanged tone took him over. He began to crave her next whisper.

"Let them forget about us, too. We'll be... out of time. Out of sight. Let's welcome our little reprieve. It'll be just you, and me..."

A pause. Her long arms squeezed around him and he dared not move a muscle. She brought her mouth so close to his ear that he could hear the percussive click of her tongue desynchronizing with her translated voice.

"I've given to you before, and I'll do so again now. My home. My shelter. My shower... My bed."

A wave of goosebumps ran across his body and a shiver rolled down his spine. Her every word was now coated in lascivious, honeyed intent. One of her hands moved low, over his lower abdomen, and ever downward.

"My body. Your body."

Her long fingers ruffled through damp, coarse hair. The tip of her talon brushed against his sex, already responding positively to her hearty and pleasurable voice.

"Just my body... And yours."

First, he felt her hand closing carefully around his half-hardening member before she gave him a gentle, almost lax squeeze. Then, he felt her slick tongue brushing against his earlobe. She ran her tongue slowly upward, along his auricle, before surprising him by taking it in her mouth.

With but a mere suckling nibble, he was sundered. She let out a strange, husky giggle as she gently tugged on his ear, and it simply made him melt on the spot. He grit his teeth, surprised by the unique and unprecedented sensation, and could only feel himself grow harder in the palm of her hand. She released his ear and gave it a final lick before leaning her head slightly away to blow hot air against his eardrum. The pressure around his half-hardening sex grew suddenly, and a sudden, aggressive jerking move that caught him by surprise. Her aggressiveness was slightly overwhelming. She let out a small chuckle, then darted again to give him a sharper nip at his auricle. A ping of pain jolted through his skin and he let out a piping yelp, squirming between her arms and swinging his head away from her sharp lips.

"Ow! Not so harsh now!" he yelled, twisting his neck in an attempt to face her.

Their eyes crossed path. She was looking at him with a strange, slightly sly expression, as if he was some kind of primitive lifeform that got suddenly grumpy at her playful roughhousing. A mixture of bemusement, levity and slight concern. Her mandibles yawned wide ajar in distinctive turian fashion. He frowned and rubbed his ear between his fingers, but he couldn't repress the smile spread over his face.

"Oh, uh. Hm. Did it hurt?" she asked, a bit coyly.

"Well, ye-... Huh." He swallowed hard, suddenly aware that yelping and squirming like a startled Asari in the arms of his alien lover, all because of some ear play was doing quite a number on his masculine pride. He cleared his throat, gathered what remained of his dignity and threw her a mean look before taking his serious voice. "It only hurt a little bit."

Strangely, the dour tone of his voice only served to highlight the sheepidness of his admission. Her mandibles clicked against her jaw and one of her long plated brows rose slightly.

"So it's true then."

"What's true?"

"That those funny, flabby bits of yours are sensitive." she announced matter-of-factly, before the sharp line of her mouth curved into an impish smile. "I got you good."

"Got me good indeed." he relented, "Where did you learn that?"

She straightened her neck and took a know-it-all attitude. "On our good old Extranet Codexes. Council Races section, Humanity column. On their Xenobiology and quirks, they had a small trivia section about..."

A pause, a mandible click, and then earnestness in her voice "... about erogenous zones. Hm."

A curt, slightly sheepish answer that made him smile.

"Erogenous zones, huh?"

"And some recommended lectures about other things." she quickly added.

"Other things, huh?"

"I've learned that the ear-thing works, at least." she said, punctuating her words with a very gentle squeeze around his half-softening member. A pause, and she threw a glance down yonder, letting the flat of her fingers trail slowly and tenderly over his flesh. "I did not overdo it, I hope?"

"You're impossible. We've just woken up and you're all over me." he teased, shuffling his back against her to find a good spot where her jagged silhouette wouldn't dig too much against him.

Her mandibles opened slightly ajar and she quietly hummed as an answer. For an instant, a flash of concern shone through her eyes and she hugged him a little more closer against her, prickling him inadvertently on the jutting bone of her large collar-like clavicle.

"I... Uh..."

"Hey now, no worries, love. All's good." he whispered, putting the palm of his hand over her bracing arm, "I forgot how lovey-dovey, kissy-huggy you can be when you awake. It's cute that a tall, tough, no-nonsense gal like you would rather have her fill of hugs, kisses and more before her morning coffee, innit?"

She lowered her head to avoid his gaze and her mandibles yawned slightly open again. Something she often did when he threw her a compliment that took her off-guard. She laid her mouth on his shoulder and hummed shyly, squeezed his body a bit against her, and closed her eyes to seemingly better enjoy their embrace. He smiled warmly as he watched her, tendrils of mushy remembrances kindled anew in his mind. He remembered her clinging body when he slept in her bed. The sight of her gentle smile as he opened his eyes at the start of a new day. Then, as he began to spend more and more time at her place instead of his own, how she would cuddle, tease, and play. It all culminated in a whole day spent amidst tangled sheets and sweat-soaked pillows...

He gulped hard, remembering what transpired that feverish day, spent almost entirely with their bodies intertwined with one another and in one another. Was it so long ago that she asked him to pull her out of her messy bed with a hug?

With time, trust and the development of their tryst, her stoic and alien posture would make way to a soft and hearty one. Then once out of her bed, she regained composure and her certain aloofness. As if putting her stoic turian theatre mask back on for the day.

A rocklike fortress that sheltered an exalted, sometimes vulnerable heart.

He wondered if all turians were as affectionate as her when they're not being the last pillar of hope in this crumbling galaxy.

A darkened thought crossed his mind. A crumbling galaxy. A burning galaxy. He frowned, unable to quell this mounting, sinister worry. Not knowing what time it is paled in comparison to not knowing if they'd make it together at the end of all things. If anything would happen to her... The sweetness of his memories began to sour.

This war was a black hole that captured all light.

He bit his lip and gathered all his focus back on her. Back on her silhouette. On her body. On the taste of her skin. On the depth of her eyes. On the warmth of her caresses. Anything to chase away the ghosts of uncertainty. He let out a nervous, almost sobbing laughter that attracted her attention.

He turned his head to face her. Deep green eyes with a feline-like pupil that scrutinized him with affective curiosity, looking to understand why he was laughing in such a way. His mouth distorted in a wide grin, and he let her visage become his beacon.

"Kiss me, you're beautiful." he let out, instinctively and strongly, almost like an exclamation.

The thin line of her mouth curved into a slight smile and she brought her mouth to him with natural flair. She closed her eyes and he mimicked her, readying his mind to focus on his every sense. He felt the flat, limestone-like texture of her lips smoosh against his. For a time, they simply held still together, locked in place by this delicate connection. Then, without realizing, he began to gently push against her, bumping his nose against her flat own. The exotic shape of her lips loosened lightly and her breath fell in him, hot and heavy. Sweetly intoxicated, he focused all his being into this sensual imprint : on the calming rhythm and subtle wail of her breath, on the little bead of her saliva that rolled down under his tongue, on the muted and wet clicks that accompanied their exchange.

He smiled to himself, letting himself drown in the comforting closeness to her.

A simple, plain and quiet kiss in a suspended moment. To share something sweet and uncomplicated with her, an alien girl from another planet, so distinct and yet so relatable. That was all needed to make him feel happy and dizzy.

Breathless in more ways than one, he pulled away from the pleasant kiss to breathe in. Drawn in the movement, she let out a small surprised sigh before catching herself. Squeezing her arms around him, she half-opened her eyes and mandibles, heaving quietly through her half-opened mouth as if she meant for the kiss to continue. Her look, at that precise moment, was an adorable snapshot of relaxed beatitude, one that disappeared just as quickly once she regained her focus and composure. Her mouth curved into a smile and she leaned her forehead forward, gently bumping into his own and bringing her eyes to his level. Lively, shining eyes of a deep green hue, of an exotic and alien architecture. Her face had taken over his entire field of view, enough for him to discern the subtle rise and fall of the strange slits that crossed her nose bridge. Her mandibles clicked, and she lightly twisted her head askew, rubbing her plated brow against his forehead. He sighed contently, happily basking in this intimate mood.

"Always so lovey-dovey... Always so... cute and spiky." he mumbled absentmindedly, almost to himself. However, as beautiful as she was at this very moment, the strain of twisting his neck to the side had become too present. He turned away and rolled his neck carefully side to side, stretching a few of his cervical bones in a dull pop. She grasped the top of his shoulders with her long arms and pushed her brow gently against the back of his head. He smiled and chuckled quietly at her curiously clingy attitude. It felt as if she was doing anything in her power to anchor him to her and the creaky leather couch. However, the comfortable prospect of laying there again with her was soured by the fact that he'd only wake up later in a renewed layered of sweat that would stick to the cushions even harder.

"C'mon now, lazy bum." he teased, "We've been stalling long enough."

She let out an indifferent groan before attempting to pull him back to her.

"Wasn't it your idea that we should probably share a shower sometime soon?"

"Hm mh... But then you fell asleep right here."

"So, uh... Wait, now that I'm awake, what's keeping us from going to-"

With a small display of strength, she attempted to playfully wrestle him backward, cutting him off with a yelp. He barely managed to catch his balance by tensing his abdominal muscles. He grabbed her arm and leaned forward, gathering his strength to rise on his legs and bring her with him off of the infernal couch, even if it meant carrying her on his back.

"Ah! I'm sliding!" she said aloud, squeezing her arms over him in search of purchase. He felt her weight roll on his back as she began to squirm and turn behind him. She let out a mirthful laugh, and the strange note of her flanged giggle went straight through his heart. Her joy brought a twang of wholesome warmth and fun inside him. He huffed loudly but fell back on his rear, brought back down by a pull of his turian lover. She was as strong as he remembered her to be, but was even heavier than he expected. The abrasive texture of her ragged exoskeleton rubbed on his back, slightly nicking at his naked skin, yet there was a distinct sense of comfort at feeling her weight on his back. To feel her presence and hear her so full of life. Laughter and a variety of strained grunts mixed as a little game of back and forth ensued, where primitive human might went up against a variety of crafty turian tactics to keep him at bay. The roughhousing continued, her taloned feet batting and sliding on the ground as he tried to throw her off balance by raising and sometimes tickling at her exposed thighs. Then, finally, with a final surge of vigor that threatened to throw him directly over the low coffee table, he managed to rise and bring his alien lover in his tall wake.

He stumbled a bit, one of his feet comically lodged in a colorful wrap of synthetic cloth on the ground, but he was standing nonetheless. From touch alone, he could make out the outline of his svelte alien lover, still snuggly embracing him from behind. She gave him a last hugging squeeze before relaxing. Her arms loosened over his chest and she leaned her body away from him, lowering her own shoulders over his. Then, with a quiet snicker, she laid her chin right on top of his scalp, almost tauntingly. Not that he minded, he always enjoyed that height difference with her.

"You wild... idiot. You were ready to throw yourself over." she admonished in a tender, affectionate tone. "If I hadn't been there to rein you in..."

"That's how it always was, innit?" he answered in a wide smile, "You always had my back when I charged recklessly forward, always was the brain to my brawn."

"Brawn?" she scoffed, squeezing him against her, "Last I remember you always lost to me at the team's arm wrestling tournaments."

Jogged by her words, his mind reeled back the memory of those informal C-Sec competitions. Her dour face across him, brow so low over her severe eyes. Her mandibles clenching in furious focus, the slits over the bridge of her nose opening wide to take air. She always was so serious about this "game", while he took it in stride. He always lost against her, it's true, but partly because it was hard to laugh and flex at the same time.

He remembered her beaming, prideful look when she always emerged the winner. As if she reveled in her superiority over some primitive species. Still, maybe this was the reason he kept losing those arm wrestling matches.

At that time, he probably didn't realize it yet.

How much he liked her genuine, happy smiles.

He put his hands over her long arms that crossed over his chest, brushing over her taut skin in a gentle, wavy caress.

"Yeah, I admit it. You always was the better half. Stronger, smarter..."

"A better shot." she whispered.

"Probably the cuter half too, now that I think about it. Beautiful silhouette. Bountiful asset."

She snorted aloud and hugged him tightly against her in silence.

"You won, y'know?"

"Won?"

"Won me over. Fair and square."

"Hm."

A silent pause, and another squeeze.

"You know, for a while, even when I slept I kept dreaming about you."

"... Hm?"

"Sweet dreams they were. To go with a sweet lady."

"... What kind of dreams ?"

"Many. Some mundane. Some a bit lewd. Somewhere I just dreamt about going for ice cream with you. That one, that one is still my favorite of all."

"..."

She pushed her chin at the top of his head, then began to slightly rock to-and-fro, keeping him right there against her inside the cradle of her arms. The hard ridges of her thoracic plates prickled against his spine and shoulder blades, but he did not care. All he cared was surrendering himself in the feeling of her body against his, of this tender embrace. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander backwards, to a happier time that felt like a lifetime ago.

In the whirlpool of sweet, distant memories that played in his mind, a few familiar faces flashed before him. Absent friends. Some disappeared. Others dead. He saw smiling faces of his turians, asari and salarian colleagues.

A chill crawled down his spine at the melancolic memory. Somewhere deep within is mind, a nagging feeling crept closer, getting more and more clearly defined. An aching, unforgivable fear. Deep and profound, like a distant summer storm.

Because as much as he remembered those faces, his friends were still dead or unreachable.

Gone.

It could always happen to him.

It could happen to her.

He stretched his cheeks apart, grinning wildly as if he could ward off his worries from an insolent smile alone. Suddenly, a wave of panic rushed upward, crawling over his skin like a slithering ink. With a gentle but pressing jerk of his shoulder, he freeing himself from her embrace that suddenly felt somehow claustrophobic. He turned to her, his hands squeezing tightly around hers, and offered her his widest, toothiest smile yet.

"Let's not waste any time making new good dreams and memories then, eh?"

Her deep green eyes were round and wide, looking straight at him with a quizzical glint. For a moment, she appeared a bit confused by his reaction, but soon enough her mandibles relaxed along her jaw and she let out a sigh.

"It's a deal then." she said, cocking her head slightly on the side, "You and me... We're in it together, right ?"

"Absolutely." he answered eagerly with another grin, trying to supress the gut feeling that she was reading his sudden unease.

She marked a small pause, seemingly scrutinizing the depth of his eyes in search of something that seemed to bother her. Then, she craned her head high and let out a small despondent hum.

He frowned, his smile almost faltering from her aloof attitude.

"You stink of sweat." she admonished, matter-of-factly.

His frown deepened, and his smile widened in surprise.

"What?"

"I think it's the couch. Feels like we both smell like it and... Hm."

"Huh."

"Other things too."

"Hm."

They exchanged a long look, idly sniffing at each other. Then, as he realized that his skin did indeed smell like synthetic faux-leather that has been bathed in salt, he nodded at her.

"Let's go shower. Right?"

"Right." she nodded back, mandible tensed around her face.

She brushed around him and hopped forward, toward the far wall where the stairs to the second floor rose. He watched her stride away with a chuckle, and then crouched down on one knee to gather his haphazardly discarded clothes. While he wasn't shy of walking around naked around his turian lover, the slight draught that was blowing through her flat felt quite chilling. Plus, it was only polite to put on something that would hide his modesty.

"What are you doing?" she called out to him, incredulous.

He grabbed a buckle and tugged at the snarled up pile of clothes on the ground. "I'm looking for my pants." he plainly answered.

She stopped in the middle of the steps and looked his way.

"You're looking for your pants?"

"Yeah."

She leaned against the wall, cocking her head on the side as he unfurled what seems to be some kind of black stretchy synthetic fabric.

"Those are mine." she quipped with a discreet chuckle.

"Oh."

He pulled at the tight elastic fabric a little more, oddly fascinated by the piece of cloth in his hands.

So that's what turian underwear looked like.

"Why are you looking for your pants?" she asked, a light tinge of mockery in her tone.

"Well... To wear them!" he obviously answered.

"To wear them... in the shower?" she taunted.

He stopped in his tracks. She had a point there. There was no use putting on clothes now to undress less than a minute away from now.

"Hm. That's right."

Squatting over the pile of fabric, boots and clothes, he put one elbow on his knee to rub at his chin, idly frowning at nothing in particular.

She must have found the sight quite amusing, as he heard her snicker aloud at his primate-like stance.

"Then... I need pants for after the shower, right?"

"Hm. I wouldn't know about that." she coyly responded.

He turned on his toes and craned his neck to the side to look at her. She was standing on the step, back against the wall, watching him with a strange air of bemuse exasperation. Then, pulling her hand from behind her back, she pretended to look at her talons.

"Where we're going after our little shower, I don't think we'll need clothes." she mused aloud, mandible slightly twitching against her jaw.

A pause.

"Oh."

Oh.

He suddenly felt very dense. And slightly excited at the prospect.

He sprung up like a coiled spring and skipped to the stairs in all his naked glory. He didn't have to force himself to smile this time as he was positively enjoying the whole situation and the fact that his tough stern turian girlfriend allowed herself to be snarky with him. She was waiting for him mid-steps, looking down athim with her air of alien haughtiness. She let out a content huff and turned to continue climbing, but kept still as he walked on the first step.

She was still watching him over her shoulder, a lively glint in her eye. He frowned slightly, having the distinct feeling that he was being played, and his eyes traveled naturally from her own, to the harsh ridged geography of her back bones and plates, down to her slender waist, and then down again.

To her toned, taut backside that was barring his way.

He snickered. Now she was flaunting her assets.

And she even had the gall to slightly shake her hips side to side!

She knew that he always had a thing for her tight, supple behind. And she was now putting that knowledge – and his own attraction for this peculiar part of her turian body – to tease or taunt him.

And it was working.

He tried to skip the steps to reach her, fixated with the new idea, put his hand and knead her insolent bum, stomping over with gorilla-like grace. She let out a mirthful laugh and dashed to the top. In hot pursuit, he watched as she strided away to the second floor, making her delightful bum jiggle with each of her steps. He was so fixated on the exquisite movement of her rear end muscles that he missed the last step and threw himself off balance, sending him almost crashing on the hard floor. He cursed aloud, catching himself on a half-knee, half-elbow, and saw her spin on her heel to face him.

For a brief moment, she seemed to have been worried about his gauche fall, but soon enough her eyes squinted with mischievous intent, her mandibles jittering on her side as she quietly snickered to herself.

"Come here you!" he yelled, a happy, dopey smile on his face.

Pushing suddenly on his legs, he bolted in her direction, but his tall partner turned and ran just as quickly. She disappeared out of sight a few strides over, around the door leading to the shower room. Running around stark naked, like some kind of rampaging wild monkey, and hearing her hoot with joyful laughter as he rushed ever forward was doing wonder on his mood.

With a last bump of his shoulder against the narrow wall, he bounced back and bursted through the open doorway in the bathroom.

She was waiting for him with arms outstretched and a knowing smile, and he ran right into her ambush. In his final momentum, he deftly threw his arms around her waist to bring her close against him, and she did the same around his shoulders. He bumped his cheek against the hard plates of her chest and felt her belly press against his own. They spun around, embraced tightly against each other, and she let out a genuine, light-hearted giggle as she squeezed him right against her wide collarbone.

Then, as they slowly moved to a stop, he hugged her waist a little tighter and laid a kiss right on the hard ridge of her jugular notch. He felt her long fingers run upward along his nape, then gently brush against his hair to tenderly scratch at the back of his head.

"Oh no, dear me. You caught me." she coyly whispered.

"Hm hm hm!" he crooned in triumph, sliding the palm of his hands around her taut waist. "Was getting caught part of your plan?"

"Of course." she admitted, matter-of-factly, pinching his shoulder between her talons as his wandering hands rolled against the comforting firmness of her glutes.

"Well congratulations, you got yourself caught. Now what's the next step of your master plan?" he grinned, spreading his fingers as wide as possible to better knead and squeeze her delightful ample behind. Her skin was warm and firm, the muscles underneath slightly tensed at his touch.

She huffed and hummed in faked outrage, but she still swayed her hips slightly to follow the motions of his hands. He curled up his fingers, and from just the tip of them he began to playfully tap against her rear to make her tight rump quaver up and down. She caught his gaze and frowned, sighing at his antics, but seemed to not complain about his attention.

"Alright, had your fill now?" she gently admonished.

"I would never tire of playing with this." he answered with a boorish grin, giving her rump one last strong squeeze before relenting.

She tsked and gently pushed him away. "Now now, we're here to shower. Let me warm up the water before we hop in."

"A'ight."

She leaned forward and affectionately pushed her plated brow against his forehead before she broke their embrace and turned to the shower panes. As his eyes traveled from her tight rump to the bridge of her spine to better drink in her alien beauty, he then turned to observe the familiar environment of her shower room.

The narrow, box-like shower room was as clean and sterile looking as he remembered. Its walls were dark in color and made of stainless steel, lit up by a relaxing – if not dull – dark blue neon light. On one side rested the humdrum lavatory bowl, with its famous Council-approved universal seat design. Next to it was the wide, square sink, over which laid a tall mirror. Finally, on the opposite side, the double transparent panels that marked where the shower was located, with its drain, rectangular black shower head and the impressive collection of multi colored bottles, vials and phials that constituted a young turian woman's toiletries. Inside the shower, his tall turian lover was looking rather focused on the dull blue and red lights of the shower hydrant, her hand outstretched under the fine running stream of misty water that pearled around her arm and shoulder.

At first sight, the room felt cold and spartan, but he knew from first hand experiences the small secrets of her shower room. From the corner of his eye he caught the couple of tiny, gaudy stickers on her mirror : an angry looking one-eyed turian warrior with cartoonishly huge pauldrons and an oversized rocket launcher on his shoulder, and under it the sleek silhouette of a turian frigate, with three red stripes on its left wing. The villain and his ship, from a run-of-the-mill action flick that was somehow one of his turian lover's favorite.

They were his gifts to her in the first months of them being a thing. A stupid thing it was, in retrospect, to gift her what he won from the back of a box of chocolate cereal. But yet here they were, still decorating her mirror after all this time.

Somehow, he could not explain why, but the presence of those two little vignettes on her mirror reassured him. They were a link to a happier, calmer past.

"Water's good."

She hummed contently behind his back, stepping inside the steel cubicle from where a heavy, whirling mist was rising. Pulled out from his reverie, he quietly followed suit, sneaking in between the crammed glass pane and the blank wall, trying to carefully not bump against any of the colorful bottles lined at his feet.

"Ooh, oof, hot!" he gasped, surprised by the warmth of the pulverized water that prickled at his naked skin. Some things didn't seem to change at least : showers with her were always like this. A little too hot, a little too steamy, more sauna than shower. Maybe it was turian anatomy meaning hot water felt better on their tough skin, maybe it was just his lover's own preference for boiling baths to melt into, he did not know.

And he did not mind, even when she started giggling as his pantomime as he huffed and puffed, hopping on his feet as he got used to the hot steamy water. He was sharing a shower with his tall alien partner, and it was the comfort he needed most.

"Are you alright? Do you want me to lower the temperature?" she asked with a slight smile.

"No, s'fine, t'tally fine! Temperature super fine!" he lied through gritted teeth.

She let out an amused snort and turned to fiddle with the lights on the wall. Then, with a knowing squint, she shifted back to him to slide her arms around his waist and pull him close to her. He instinctively mirrored her, nudging her taut belly close against his, and pushed his cheek against the hard ridge of her wide collarbone. The powerful stream of water that was falling on them felt slightly tamer, less scalding, more comfortably hot. He felt her lean her neck forward and her flat, edged mouth gently push against the top of his head. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, finally relaxing in her gentle embrace, letting his muscles and bones get transfixed by the warm water. Then, slowly, he inhaled, held his breath, and exhaled again.

The steam was filling his lungs, and he was almost getting used to the torrid temperature. She turned her head and he felt her wide, rough mandible gently brush against his scalp as she squeezed her arms around his waist.

Nothing could beat being hugged by the woman one loves.

"Yeah, that's really fine." he muttered with a smile.

"Hm mh."

They gently rocked themselves from side to side, letting the water fall on their backs, washing away their sweat and grime... And hopefully their worries too.

However, somewhere at the back of his brain kept him from truly, really relaxing. Woe is a tenacious reef and an enduring foe. It is not so easily shaken, not even through this kind and warm embrace. It was maddening though. A thorn where he kept prickling his mind on. The fear of war and death would not shake away so easily.

And he could guess, from the way her posture was still so stiff and tense, that for all the tough and proud and assertive act she was showing to him, his lover was probably going through the same troublesome mindset.

They needed to make the most of their precious time together.

Because he knew that it would be short.

He slid his hands down her spine and hips to squeeze at her buttocks, finding comfort in the feeling of the firm and strong curve of her flesh. As if he could chase away the cloud of doubt that still overhang, he playfully kneaded and patted away, using her rear like some kind of mystical -and bountiful- drum.

She leaned away, glowering at him with her usual stern gaze, mandibles tightly shut along her jaw. Her mandibles twitched and she let out a giggling hum before frowning down on him in faked outrage.

"You really can't keep your hands away from there, can you?" she half-admonished.

He craned his neck up to look her in the eyes. Her beautiful, exotic eyes. She seemed to watch him expectantly, as if waiting for him to say his line. To answer with a quip, a joke or a comment about her rear, like he would usually do. She cocked her head on the side, mandibles yawning slightly open, seemingly perplexed by his non-reaction.

He smiled at her before straightening his legs and pushing on his toes, stretching his neck as forward as he could to catch her mouth with a kiss. He closed his eyes as his lips smooshed against the thin, edged line of her own. The wet, limestone-like texture of her mouth felt as refreshing as ever. She muffled a short surprised sigh that rolled behind his lips, and her arms squeezed around his waist. He slid his hand in the small of her back, pulling her lithe frame snugly against him. He pressed his head a little further, a little closer, to better feel the prickly fire of her breath, the softness of her kiss that took hold of his senses.

"I love you." he whispered against her, the words blending in smoke and mist.

A shiver travelled down his neck and spine. It was but a shallow kiss that caromed against the hard bone-like plates of her lips, but it was enough to soothe his mind and muffle his perception of time and space. She opened her eyes a few seconds after him, the triangle gap of her mouth still left slightly open from the surprise. Her eyes were looking down at him with affection, and somehow a little bit of longing, as if she expected the kiss to last longer. Under the palm of his hands, he felt her waist move, her balance change slightly as she let her weight rest on a single leg. Her poise softened, her shoulders slumped ever so slightly as her muscles relaxed... finally.

She always seemed so on edge, all the time alert and at the ready, ever since he woke up. Maybe even from when he saw her at the threshold of her apartment door. It was precious to at long last see her relax and soften.

Her mandibles twitched against her jaw, yawning slightly open before clicking shut with her mouth. The thin line of her lips curled into a smile that echoed in her eyes, but there was also something new in her expression. Something that has been revealed or unlocked somehow, that he was having trouble reading. Affection. Longing. Tiredness. Sadness.

She let out a short, quiet hum amidst the droning sound of the shower, and then her mandibles twitched again. It really looked like she was caught off guard by his sudden display of tenderness. Then, a slight frown of her brow plates, and she took him in his arms in a tight hug. His cheek pushed against the hard ridge of her collarbone and his chin scraped slightly against the jutting edge of her gorget-like sternum. She put her hand at the back of his head to pull him closer still, gently scratching at his nape as she began to gently sway her body back and forth. She squeezed her other arm strongly around his side, like one would do with a cuddly toy, and let out a soft giggling whimper.

Together, in this tight embrace, they slowly swayed to-and-fro. A shallow and mellow tango under the harsh pressurized mist of the shower.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deep against her wet neck, answering each and everyone of her squeezes with a few of his own and following her shuffling steps. The rushing water pearled across their skin, running and flowing freely over their form.

A part of him felt like this was a memory in the making, etching itself in his brain for years to come. Naked tenderness. A peaceful and precious moment, cathartic in essence.

"I love you too." she spoke softly, wringing his waist with her slender arms before breaking the embrace. She leaned slightly backward and shuffled her weight on her other thigh. A constellation of little beads of water studded her angular face, rolling over her smooth cheekbones and dripping down from the tip of her mandibles, pooling in the crucible formed by her bowl-like neck cage. Her green eyes looked at him with an inscrutable, almost distant expression. A mask of solemnity fell on her still face.

She was thinking about something.

Something that preoccupied her greatly.

He cocked his head askew and raised an eyebrow. Surely, it wasn't his surprise kiss that chipped at her trademark turianesque tranquility. He felt that she was getting eaten by her own thoughts and worries, as if she wanted to say something to him that was stuck in her throat.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently pinching the taut skin of her waist between her fingertips.

His words took her out of her reverie and her eyes lit up. Thin cat-like black pupils becoming wide in her deep green irises. The small slit on the bridge of her nose opened sharply, and her mandibles clicked hard against her jaw.

"Huh? Yes, of course." she lied with a soft smile, curling her fingers against him and slightly scratching his skin.

"Hm."

He frowned and pursed his lips. Trying to read the expression on his partner's face. She let out a throaty chuckle at his intense staring action and moved her hand at the top of his head to suddenly roughly tussled at his short hair -and turn his head away from her face.

"Oi! What-"

She giggled again, catching his nose between her two long fingers and tugging it sharply toward her.

"Ow!"

He retaliated by pinching harshly at the exposed sensitive skin of her sides. She yelped and laughed, twisting her slender body to wriggle away from his onslaught.

"Ah! Ow! Stop, you're going to make me slip!" she pleaded, putting the palm of her hands over his torso to push and make some distance between them. He obeyed and let his hands fall and rest on the hard ridge of her flared hips.

"What was that about?" he asked with a slightly concerned frown.

"What was what?" she answered with an incredulous smile.

"You know! The hair ruffling, the nose pulling!..." He cleared his throat and squinted, a little knot forming in his stomach as he uttered "... The sad eyes."

She smiled again, mandibles tensely shut against her jaw. Her eyes laid upon his with a soft expression.

"The usual. Don't worry about it. We're not here to worry, are we?"

A rhetorical question. He felt that he should not push further.

"We're here to wash ourselves so that we can go back to bed together." she quickly added, matter-of-factly. "Back to fresh cuddling and snuggling."

He chuckled, surprised by her choice of words, and decided against contradicting his tall turian lover. He slid his hands back on her rear, back where he felt they belonged so well.

"Alright, fine. Let's wash then." he loudly exclaimed, with two gentle slaps on her tight behind to punctuate.

She sighed, lazily batted his hands away and turned to the side, squatting down to examine the rows of colorful bottles of body wash or shower gel. She picked up a pliable red tube from the line and held it out to him.

"Here, use this one."

He grabbed the tube from her hand and inspected it. On it was depicted a bountiful, glistening cluster of Sur'Kesh jungle berries. A relatively cheap brand of universal shower gel that promised to accommodate every body type and levo-based skin chemistry. Scientifically tested in prestigious Salarian laboratory to leave your skin healthy, clean and smelling like tropical sunset over the wild jungle canopy.

"Salarian shower gel?" he chuckled.

"It's the only soap I have for levo."

She rose on her legs with her own bottle of body wash in her hands. Hers was black and wide, with a striking lightning bolt and bold turian lettering on its side.

Somehow, hers looked strangely virile in her hands compared to his.

"It could have been worse." she said as she noticed his frown, "I could have picked up some Asari shampoo... Although..."

"Huh?"

"It would have done wonder for your oh so sensitive, oh so soft levo skin." she teased, stiff and stone-faced. "Skin so delicate and fragile that they need some Thessian nenufar special care."

He chuckled, popping open the seal of the tube and producing a dollop of sparkled green gel on the palm of his hand.

"Yeah yeah, but you love it when this soft and delicate levo-skin rubs against your rough and rugged dextro shell, don't cha." he retorted with a grin.

"Hm. It's true. I do." she coyly admitted, energetically spreading a generous amount of soapy, blueish foam over her forearms. "Maybe I'll pick you something that gives you some of that rough and rugged edge for that soft and smooth skin of yours."

He snorted. It seemed like she was in high spirits after all. The Salarian wash felt invigorating, even if the mentholy, tutti frutti scent was a bit heady. A lightly perfumed froth was now covering both of their bodies, and a heap of bubbles was now amassing at the shower drain. The gentle atmosphere felt deliciously serene in this cramped, steamy steel box, amidst the droning sound of pulverized water. He rubbed and pinched at his neck and shoulder muscles, making a wide circling motion with his head to pop and free his sore vertebrae. He sighed heavily. Letting his body and mind soak and cleanse itself from exhaustion.

"Can you help me?" she asked.

"Hm? Sure. For what?"

"My back." she answered, "Can you give me a hand?"

"Yeah, what do you need me to do?"

"Here." She held out a strange square grey sponge to him. Picking it up, it felt supple and rough in his hand, like a mushy pumice stone with sandpaper texture over it. She then turned away, presenting her back to him and in a surprising display of flexibility bent her arm to thumb at her wide bone plates.

"Give me a good scrub there, please. I can't reach there easily..."

A little smile crept up on his face. He has done this before with her, in this very shower. As he began to rub the little abrasive sponge against her, he contemplated the beautiful and exotic architecture of her exoskeleton, at the way the jagged edge of spine blended with the wide flat plates of her back blades; how the curved lamellar-like rib-bones overlapped to accommodate the slow rhythm of her breathing... And of course, as he could not stop his eyes from wandering, how the taut and discreet musculature of her lower back stretched downward to form the magnificent curve of her buttocks. Her body was always a marvel to look at, one that would make him remember how otherworldly and alien her anatomy can be. The delicate way all those bones grew and interlocked around her body was nothing short of a wonder. His eyes followed the race of a few droplets that weaved in between the grooves of her plates.

A strange, far away memory bubbled back to his mind. An old extranet thing he saw once. A wannabe space poet that wrote that the turian skeleton was the work of a cosmic blacksmith, using the turian soul as kiln to forge their body in bones and metal around it.

He nodded to himself as he scratched at the narrow interstices of her backplates. Maybe that wannabe poet was in to something in the end.

After all, he for one deeply fell for the body and heart of the one he was now so carefully grooming.

"You want me to do your front too?" he asked, swiping along her spine in a long smooth motion.

"Oh. Sure." she answered, turning on her heels to face him again.

She presented her front to him and held her arms halfways up, hands just slightly over her shoulders, frozen in place in a somewhat awkward pose. She stood so stiffly on her long legs that water had begun to pool in her wide bowl-like neck and was now waterfalling over her breast. He grinned, trying his best to stifle a laugh at her adorable, almost comical pose, but he could not stop himself from snickering at this proud display of cosmic blacksmithing.

"What is it? What's so funny?" she questioned with a frown, her mandibles twitching nervously ajar.

"Nothing, Miss Citadel Presidium Cascade." he teased, pressing the small sponge tightly against the thin cleft of her sternum.

"Miss-? Huh?"

"Oh, sorry. Maybe you'd prefer Miss Rain-Catcher Chalice?"

"Huh?"

"You're catching on water standing around so stiff, you know ?"

"... I-. Hm. Tch."

In her eyes flashed a small glint of confused vexation before she rose her head upright. For a moment, she seemed to search for a retort, but she simply closed her eyes and turned her head away, exhaling loudly and conjuring up the allure of the proud of haughty turian that would definitely not admit she got teased by a primitive lifeform. He glanced at her face, recognizing the hint of a turian smile on her face. For all her high and mighty attitude, she did not budge nor relax from her awkward pose, allowing him to continue carefully working on grooming her thoracic plates. She was pretending to sulk, playing the princess while she was tended by him.

The least he could do was indulging her in this light game of back and forth.

"Aw, come on, love. Don't sulk." he chuckled, eyeing up at her "It's alright, innit?"

"Hush. Sponge me." she ordered without deigning to glimpse him.

He smiled and complied, running the small abrasive sponge along the length of her wide and round clavicle, racking his brain all the while to find a new way to tease her.

"Could you maybe bend forward a little bit? I can't reach..."

She opened one eye, glancing back at him with a wary expression.

"Yeah. I can't wash my face in your neck." he teased, grinning ear to ear.

"Bite me!" she quipped back with an exasperated sigh.

Yet, her remark made him stop in his track.

How did he not think about doing that before? It seemed... An oddly natural thing to do with a turian.

Would this be a good way to tease her later?

"Is that a Turian thing to say or..."

"Hm?"

"Would you like that?" he asked in all seriousness.

"What?"

"Biting."

Her arms relaxed slightly around her sides. It seemed that the question managed to break through her haughty composure.

"You mean..."

"Biting. As in... My teeth against your skin. Like you sometimes do with my ear or shoulder when we make l-"

"Oh. You're serious."

Her arms fell back to her hips and she looked back at him, giving him an incredulous look. Her mandibles fluttered slightly open, like they usually do when she's searching for her words. He had stopped sponging her to better look at her naked body, taking note of where her exposed skin would fit the best to experiment his novel idea.

"Why not? Ain't that a turian-thing ? Biting sounds like something turians would do between each other." He casually claimed with absolutely no proof.

"Do humans bite themselves for fun?" she asked in return, perplexed by his line of thought.

"Depends, innit? It can be used for playfulness, for... Huh... Asserting dominance or something like that. Some girls like it, some girls don't. Which one are you?"

"Do you want to bite me?" she quickly retorted, dismayed.

"Would you like me to?"

"I-... Huh..."

Now she was looking positively flustered. Part of him was quite happy to have managed to break her turianesque stiffness through teasing like this... And another part was also, somehow, genuinely curious about it. She seemed oddly concerned by such an innocent, out of the blue question... So maybe something about biting played an important part in turian dynamics?

"It's as you say, I guess. Some girls do. Some girls don't..." she mumbled, averting her eyes away from him and idly scratching at the right side of her neck.

He squinted, a victorious grin creeping up on his face as he instinctively made a mental note of the spot.

"So turian ladies like biting and being bitten..." he said, squinting hard and rubbing his chin between his fingers.

"What's with you and biting suddenly?" she gripped with a frown. "It's not like-"

"Hm?" he smiled victoriously.

She held her breath and stopped. Her gaze became fierce as she seemed to catch up with his game. Then, she straightened her back and held her head high, looking down at and towards him.

"It's not like your puny teeth would leave much of a mark." she remarked, yawning her mandibles wide open to flash her dagger-like fangs to him. "And besides, it'd be hard for you to reach it in the first place."

He idly scratched at the cusp of his chin, monkeying around and playing the fool.

"Reach what, your neck?"

"My ne-"

Her word died down in her throat, and her eyes widened in the dawning realization that she had been had. For a moment, she looked fiercely angry, then desperately regretful... Then, her shoulders slumped, she closed her eyes and sighed before finally admitting defeat.

"If you must... Don't break your teeth on my plates, please"

Her neck then. That was the weakspot to remember for later.

Maybe he'll get to see her squirm delightfully again.

Sparkled by the thought, his imagination began to fill his mind with a rather lewd fantasy of sound and movement. A phantom image of her body under his, with his mouth against her neck. An image vivid enough that he felt a jolt pass through his manhood, slightly stirring his flesh from slumber.

Suddenly very aware of the natural reaction of his body to his meandering thoughts, he cleared his throat and tried to pull away from his tall lover. However, after giving a quick glance downward, she seemed to catch on to his sudden stiffness in posture and anatomy. She let out a quiet chuckle, shook her head from side to side, and gave him a sly smile.

"We'll have plenty of time for... that later, dummy." she teasingly admonished. "Hold on until we're finished showering, alright?"

"Of course. Just can't wait to play the game of who bites who." he quipped back, trying his best to ignore the lascivious ideas that were blooming in his mind by shampooing his head with redoubled zeal.

She gave another theatrical sigh and turned to the colorful array of bottles and conditioners. Crouching down to inspect them, she closely reviewed the rows of tubes and flasks, and a stern frown soon began to fall over her face.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked, energetically rubbing bubbly foam under his armpits.

"Yes. I was sure I still had some left..."

"Huh?"

"I don't think a human would know." she mumbled, slightly frustrated, scratching her chin with her thumb talon. "It's a small red and white tube... It's... How to explain... Calcium cream."

"Calcium cream?"

"Yes, it's for my plates. To keep them young and healthy." she explained, matter-of-factly, "It's a turian thing."

He raised an eyebrow at the idea of a turian beauty product. His sense of curiosity was rustled by the mere concept of it. Questions began to bubble in his mind...

About the necessity of it all. And his inability to picture what an old version of a turian would actually look like.

"That doesn't make sense." he wondered aloud.

"Hm ?"

"There are old turians?"

"Why yes. Like every species in this galaxy, there are indeed old turians."

"I can't believe it. What do they look like?" he added, only partly feigning ignorance for he could not tell the difference himself. "Your kind look like they've been chiseled out of stone, I can't believe you'd change much with age."

"What, every turian looks the same to you? Can't tell the difference between us? Can't win at the « Name that turian » game?" she snapped back, making him fidget with his somehow specist admission.

"Uh, I just meant-"

"Idiot." she amicably shushed with a smile. "You'd notice if you knew where to look. Old people tend to have duller plates, all crackled over from the years. Brow plates droop and bend... Skin wrinkles around the eyes and neck... And most of them try to hide their back pain by stiffening up their waist as much as possible. Oh, and of course, their plates become more fragile and scratchy from the wear and tear."

He took a few moments to process what she told him, trying to recall some faces of other turians he crossed paths with. However, somehow, a part of him was still unconvinced that turians ever seemed to age. After coming to this revolutionary conclusion, he nodded to himself and turned his attention back to his lover.

"That's interesting. But you..."

"What is it?"

"You're young and healthy, innit ?"

"Thank you. I like to think I am."

"Then why would you need... Calcium? How does that even work?"

Her mandibles flexed against her jaw, droplets of water running along the edges of her mask-like face. After a brief silence, she turned her head towards him, letting her elbows rest on her long bent legs.

"What do you not understand? Can't a girl take care of her looks?" she asked, the tone of her voice taking on a teacherly hue, somewhat sullen. "It's about keeping my plates from becoming drab and brittle, to avoid the chip and wear that would make them harsh and rough. With it, my plates can stay supple and smooth to the touch."

A slight grin took shape on his face. The words supple and smooth were not necessarily the one he associated with turian skin care, but the insight on his lover's coquettish side was an enjoyable experience.

"Huh... Then what was that about me lacking that rough and rugged edge?" he teased her, "My bones' not soft enough for you?"

"Your squishy all over, it's different." she retorted a deadpan face.

A goofy chortle escaped his throat at her quick wit.

"Tsah! Good one!"

She rose on her long legs to face him again, her svelte silhouette a good head or two taller than him, and leaned her body towards him. Then, she brought her hands to the top of his head, where she laid her fingers against his hair and began to gently knead at his scalp.

"All that fuss about my stuff when humans are the one with rows upon rows of shampoo." she said, her voice trailing over the last word as if reading an alien language, "For long hair, for short hair, or fragile hair with thirty vitamins and sunshine! I can never understand how it all works on that fur of yours."

"It's to keep it supple and smooth to the touch." he proclaimed with a smile.

"Oh. Now I understand." she answered with a discreet giggle.

She pressed her fingertips against the short fuzz of his buzzed hair before slowly moving her hands around the side, along his temple and ears. The palm of her hand formed a frame around his jaw, and she began to gently scratch and coil her fingers against the longer curls of his beard. He pushed his chin upward to let her play with his beard, his hands still lazily slathering his side and belly with what was left of the thin washing foam.

Then, he crossed his gaze and suddenly froze in place.

She was wearing an expression of melancholy, even as she was twirling a wet strand of his beard around her finger. For a brief moment, she seemed out of it, glum and distant.

A pang of inky worry blossomed in his heart, spreading along his nerves.

"What is it?" he asked.

The sound of her voice seemed to pull her back from her contemplative stare. Her mandibles twitched against her jaw before yawning open, the small slits over her nose grew wide as she breathed in deeply. She craned her head high, the thin line of her mouth curving into a big smile and a spark of liveliness shone bright in her eyes.

"Nothing. I was wondering what you would look like when you grow older." she said as she moved her hands to his nape and shoulders, her tone of voice oddly cheery "You know, when your skin will wrinkle all over like some ancient parchment, and your fur will turn grey or white, or reddish and white and... And fluffy all over. That's how you humans change when you age, right?"

There was pain in her voice. A great and dry bitterness that transpired in how hard she was clenching her mandibles against her jaw. He gently laid his hand on her waist, feeling how rigid and stiff her posture had become.

"It'd be fun to watch you grow older. I wonder how big that beard of yours can grow. It's really nice to play with. I hope it will stay soft like this." she added, blabbering quickly and unfittingly, her gaze crossing over his features but averting his eyes. "It's easier to spot an old human than an old krogan, after all, don't you think?"

"Hey." he tried to interrupt.

"What, what is it?... You look worried. Is..." she said, without looking him in the eyes. Her mandibles quivered against her jaw for a brief moment, and she leaned back slightly away from him.

Don't run away now. He thought to himself, but directed at her.

She fell silent, her head turned slightly away from him, her eyes fixed at a nondescript point on the transparent shower panel. The sound of her breathing barely pierced through the droning sound of pressurized water, but it felt so much louder to him. She swallowed back a sob and stiffened her shoulders, her fingers curling around the top of his shoulders.

His heart felt suddenly small and dry with a heavy feeling of guilt. He was finally making sense and noticing the strange character of her overly joyful and merry behavior. As if she was doubling down, laying it on thick with the tough tomboy cop act that was taking danger and distress in strides.

After all, it was always him that put on the theatrics of blind optimism.

During this strange, eerie moment of silence, the tall and proud woman he called his lover seemed so fragile. Her lithe, strong figure had become like a tower of glass. An icy spire threatening to crumble into the cold sea below.

It only took a moment for her mask to fall, but it was enough to crack it and let the fear return in force.

"You're scared." he whispered, as tenderly and reassuringly as possible.

She closed her eyes and grimaced, mandibles squeezed tightly against her jaw. Her eyelids creased under her heavy brow, and her head flinched slightly away from him. He did not know if he read frustration or anger on her features, but her distress was as clear as the water raining and rolling across her mask-like visage.

"I am not scared." she breathed out through clenched teeth. "I am not. I will never."

Her fingers curled up on his shoulders, pinching his skin between her talons. Her brow fell ever further down her face, shadowing her gaze with her inner storm. He pressed the palm of his hand against her slender waist, feeling the strong, wiry tension of her muscles underneath.

"You know, it's alright to be sca-"

"I am not." she chopped brutally, surprising him with the steel and furious tone of her voice. She then fell silent again, her face locked in an expression of terrible, shaking anger. He gulped hard and gently moved his arms around her flanks, to better brace and embrace her at this moment.

"Let go." he murmured, pulling her stiff body against his. "It's alright, innit. You ain't alone in this."

The sound of the shower was his only answer. She opened her eyes, but was still seemingly locked in an expression of thunderous fury. Her gaze was unfocused and distant, looking far away behind him, behind the shower, behind her flat, behind the space station.

To something deep and dark.

"Look here. Look at me. It's alright. I ain't leaving you." he whispered to her, soothing his voice and trying to get through her inner shell.

Her mandibles twitched and her eyes focused on him for a brief half second before escaping. She turned her eyes to the side, averting him and braced her arm over his nape, bringing his face right against the upper edge of her chest.

As much as she looked like a perfect picture of a naked warrior-goddess, he felt like her body felt like candlelight in his arms. Burning but wavering. Threatening to crumble inside. Was it her turian pride and fighter spirit that lead her to bottle up the unfathomable depths of her emotion? She seemed to handle powerlessness and despair the same way the same way he did:

Poorly.

It wrung his heart to see her like this.

"Look at me, c'mon." he tried again to no avail.

He frowned, and gambled on fighting fire by fire.

"You ain't scared. Alright, have it your way, but you ain't me, you know?" he said with a sterner tone. "I ain't trying to hurt you or make you say something you don't want, but keeping up pretending everything alright when it's not is not a good way to... Handle things. You don't have to be so guarded, you know, not with me, please."

She let out a barely audible hum, but kept squinting away from him.

Fight fire with fire. It would be a gamble to fan the flame of her anger flame but...

"I know you." he slowly said, a wide acid grin on his frowning face. "I know you because I've fallen for you badly. Very badly. And I know that if my partner ain't scared she's sure as hell feeling something bad right now, and being all high and mighty and proud won't make any pain go away. So look it here at the strong turian lady, pretending to not feel anything about the coming end of the known world... 'cause she's hiding behind a mask."

Her eyes flashed back and locked with his. Two striking, burning emerald embers that knifed him with vast and thundering hatred in this very instant.

Fury incarnate... and a moment of disequilibrium.

"Got you to look."

He swiftly hooked his leg behind her own, in the nook formed by the long curved shinbone protruding from her shin. Then, with one arm securely braced against the small of her back, and the other moving to suddenly grab at the underside of her thigh, he suddenly applied motion to his trapped leg and hoisted her thigh with his arm, pulling against her back to force her to be unbalanced.

She may be a turian, heavy and steady on her feet, but even she couldn't find this common C-Sec close quarter combat technique. Something he learned from his turian training officer : How to quickly subdue turian suspects using hand-to-hand combat.

Effectively, the sudden and contradictory motions made her unbalanced on her feet, and she started to fall backwards, her pulled thigh making her slip on the wet steely floor. She let out a panicked yelp when her long digitigrade legs skidded out, making her almost flip back against the wall. As she instinctively tried to hold on anything, he felt a teeth-grinding, white-sharp pain in his back as her taloned hand ploughed across his shoulder line.

Quick to react, he gathered his strength in the arm that was bearing her waist and tugged her to him. What resulted was a strange suspended moment where she was stopped mid-fall in a very awkward contortion, with both legs bent under his own, one hand scratching and digging across the shower wall and the other against his skin. In an instinctive and impressive display of suppleness, she arched her back far backward and bumped the back of her bowl-like neck bone against the wall, finally stabilizing herself and planting her dangling feet to the ground.

Her eyes darted to his face, and the sullen anger of her expression was replaced with wide eyes and flared nostrils, full of surprise and confusion. Something warm streamed down his spine, sprung from the searing pain across his shoulder blade. Swallowing back a pained groan, he locked his gaze inside her, trying to reach his tall stubborn lover deep within.

"I'll fall with you, alright? I won't let you go, idiot. Let go. Relax. Breathe. It's a'ight, innit?" he tried to give her a smile, but he only managed to grin through gritted teeth. "Nobody's invincible, not even you, you know?"

"Alright alright! Let me-...! I'll slip!" she yelped, squirming against him like a vexed cat.

"You won't slip! I got ya." he scoffed, pulling on his arm to try to straighten her back "Just... Listen. I'll-"

A flash of panic crossed her features when she started sliding ever so slowly down the wall. He tried to counterbalance the change of weight, but his awkward angle meant a very skewed center of gravity.

"You dumb idiot monkey!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her left hand finding no purchase while it screeched down the steel wall. Then came the dire sound of her taloned feet scraping and slipping under him. The slow-motion fall then became a short and abrupt vertical tumble. She gracelessly fell on her rear and thighs, grunting and scratching all the way down, and he followed by plummeting right against her. His legs sweeped on the wet floor, still interlocked with her protubing shin bone, forcing his lower body to bend painfully on its side. His cheek scraped violently against her armored chest as well, and he could feel his wrist being painfully crushed under the angle of her hip-bone.

After finally registering the surprise and shock, they were left in a chaotic tangle of slippery bony plates and bruised, all grunting and grumbling. He groaned and pulled on a stuck arm, twisting his legs around to try to disentangle them from hers. Writhing around like two fish out of water, naked and covered in bubbly foam would probably look quite comical from an outside point of view, if it were not for the newfound prickling pain that bloomed across his skin.

"Ow." he grimaced, finally freeing his arm and leg after one final tug.

"What was -hrmpf- that all about...?" she mumbled, running her hand up and down her lower back, her voice more weary than angry, "What were you trying to accomplish..."

He grumbled, pinching the nape of his neck between his fingers "Huh. In my head my plan ran much smoother than this... Whole lot less hurting too."

"You probably are the-"

She gasped and froze as she laid her eyes on his face. A flash of fear shone in her gaze, and with a nervous flinch she scooted backward into a sitting position. Then, she carefully wrapped the palm of her hand around his jaw to turn it towards her. He could only guess from her worried expression -and the dull thudding pain in his cheek- that he may have bruised or cut open his face upon her chest.

"Oh no... You're bleeding." she softly said, thumbing the tip of his cheekbone with her talon. "Does it hurt?"

Her mandibles quivered in an adorable display of concern. He couldn't help but cock up a grin and attempt to play it cool.

"Nah. I'm alright. Nothing's broken. Besides-..."

She frowned, and let out another anxious drawn breath as her eyes focused on his shoulder. She winced at the sight, sliding her hand from his face to trail over the scratch.

"And your shoulder too! Oh no... I scratched you badly." she mumbled, her flanged voice taking the color of slight guilt.

"Bah. Don't worry about it." he boasted, turning his body sideways to rest more comfortably on her side. "I'm used to it at this point, it's alright. It's just a scratch and a bruise. Nothing's bad."

She didn't answer, but judging by the way her mandibles twitched and her brow rested heavily over her eye she did not feel reassured by his words.

"But... It must hurt. And you're bleeding. You could have... really hurt yourself."

"Don't worry about me, you lovable dolt. Maybe we humans are squishy, like you said... And we bleed easily but it's fine. Totally fine." he followed, his voice full of cocky boastfulness. "But what about you? Everything okay? You don't hurt?"

"You idiot, I'm... Look, I don't want to think about how you could have... hurt yourself. What if you..." she trailed off, idly pinching off a particularly pointy ridge of her wide clavicular bone between her fingers.

For a brief moment, his mind briefly wandered to a worste-case scenario featuring a punctured throat over a jutting turian bone. Yet, the grim idea felt almost comical. He chuckled to himself, somewhat finding the irony of pricking himself upon his spiky girlfriends' stabby bits.

He buried the stinging echoes of pain deep down his mind to better focus on his lover. She was the one needing reassuring. She was the one that needed calm.

She needed to know he really got her.

"Look, see the bright side of it." he grinned, trundling his shoulder carefully to stretch and soothe his muscles, "I'll get some new scars. Scars with history. Like the other one you gave me, the love scars. And I know you turian ladies love scars."

"How can you possibly be joking about it!" she admonished as she hugged his body tightly against hers, her voice now more angrily exasperated than truly panicked, "You're bleeding in my shower right now, look!"

She pointed to the drain, where a thin and light stream of red was weaving in the bubbles toward the steel drain.

"It's alright. It'll close in no time and I'll just have a bruise on my cheek." he kept snickering, trying to counter her overreaction by his old-school nonchalance. "It's not the first time we had that thing happen, innit?"

He would know, after all, and the half dozen of little thin scars that criss-crossed over his back could vouch for him. Engaging in any kind of heated or rough corps-à-corps with a naked turian lady was a recipe for disaster. At least if one was not mindful of a few peculiar spikey bits and quirks...

Not that he minded.

She grumbled, frowned, and hugged him a little closer. With the adrenaline rush over, she took a deep breath and calmed down, and soon enough the same air of sullenness creeped over her features. He gave her a gentle smile and covered his hand over hers, interlocking with her long fingers.

"Why would you do such a... Brash. Idiotic thing." she muttered.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why would you do that? Why would you trip me like that?"

There was no anger in her voice, but instead a certain form of weariness.

"Why did I trip you?"

"Yes."

"Uh... It wasn't my aim to trip you. I wanted to... Hm."

He idly scratched at his wet beard, twisting a few strands of hair around his finger. He felt her shuffle behind his back as she straightened herself against the wall. Then, she laid one hand on his back to gently pull him toward her, guiding him to lay his back completely against her chest.

"I wanted to bring you to my level, and then kiss you. Basically." he continued, matter-of-factly, "Didn't totally go that route considering how we slipped all over the place."

She stayed silent for a few second, let out a long and heavy sigh.

"You could have just asked. Why would you do that to kiss me?" she sighed.

He mulled over what he wanted to say next, feeling strangely reluctant to give her this answer. His eyes trailed off to the other wall of the shower, covered in condensed droplets, and his mind to the droning sound of pulverized water that poured over two silent forms, spooning sadly under a warm shower.

Because you looked scary. He thought to himself. Just like that old little story about the oak and the reed. Because you were that oak in the storm. Because you looked like you could not fake it anymore. Because you looked like you were about to break. Because you looked like you were about to cry.

"Because I didn't want to see you cry." he solemnly said.

She let out a harsh, sardonic hum, like she usually did when she thought he was mocking her, and waited for his jab, for his tease.

It never came, and she knew he was serious, and she fell silent again.

"It's like... We've been together for quite a bit, even before we got together. And I'd like to think I know you." he began, now talking from a deep instinctual desire to lay upon her the weight of his thoughts. "I know how much you're a good cop. Conscientious. Devoted. A real workaholic that doesn't do things halfway done. A good shot too. Saved my hide a couple of times. Always was on my case about me not being passionate enough for the job. At least at the beginning. Eh."

He chuckled, but she didn't react much.

"You're patient and open-minded and all but... I also know who you are when you're not a C-SEC good cop. How you can be sometimes aloof. How you can be grudging. How you can sometimes stop being patient and be both short-tempered and quick to anger. How you can be scary when you're angry too."

He frowned and cleared his throat. He didn't even feel like he was speaking anymore, the words kept rolling over his tongue, bursting free after being kept inside for so long. For too long surely. The sentences conjured up almost by themselves, redrawn from a canvas of memories with her in the center. He closed his eyes to better focus on the hazy portrait of her he was drawing inside his mind.

"You're strong on the inside and on the outside. A real iron lady. But I know you have a soft core because you let me see it. You're sensitive. You're a worrywart. You like cute things and big dumb action holos. But you've always been cool about it. All stoic-like. Always in control. Always with that kind of haughty elegant air of turian superiority. You're strong and you know it, or at least you want people to see it that way. Sometimes you are a little too solemn as well, but you hide it well. Back when we partnered, you were the cool stoic cop and I was the sloven loose one. But it felt natural, you know? Natural order of things. The turian's the cool one. The human's the loose one. At least that's how I saw it. You've always been the cooler one."

He chuckled merrily, but silence was her only answer. She was listening to him intently, keeping still behind his back, seemingly letting him run the river of his words to its end. Like she often did. Like she always did.

"That's why I think I know when you... Pretend." he sighed, letting the next flow of words join the rest under the misty shower water. "Between you and me, I feel like I was the happy, bumbling, optimistic idiot one. Always joking. Always teasing you... But things happened, right? And nothing will ever be the same. Ever. And I stopped being bumbling and happy, like everybody else."

His tongue felt strangely too wide and too cumbersome. As if the mere memory of all that was lost and the despairing lack of hope was made manifest in that sour taste in his mouth. He began to speak a little slower, trying to feel the weight and importance behind every word he would choose to reach her.

"That's why I felt like... You were pretending. Like you put on a show of still being in control. Of being the same strong and unbending cop that is cool under fire. And at the same time you act like... Blindly optimistic. It felt like you were stealing some of my lines! Like as if everything is going to be a-ok and we'll grow old enough to see my beard turn white. That's what tipped me off. I felt like you were lying... to me or yourself. You're not perfect. You're not... an invincible beacon of strength. You told me about your chems, how you kept pushing your body to keep being that trademarked cool turian cop. Not afraid of anything. Except you're staring straight into a star and saying it's totally not burning your eyes. You can't keep going on like this. You told me that you already pushed your body too far just a few weeks ago... I just wanted to show or tell you to stop pushing your mind so hard as well."

He heard the clickety-clack of her mandibles quivering against her jaw. A barely audible, trembling hum escaped her throat, but she did not argue with him this time. Instead, she squeezed his body against her.

But the force behind her arm was both lacking and despairing. More like she was holding on to him than embracing him.

Behind him thundered a sound he would not expect to feel so terrifying.

A simple, sad sniffle.

He had to be careful. To not uproot her beautiful, inspiring strength. It was an almost selfish kind of wish to keep her being that beacon of his. Maybe if he didn't want to see her cry was because he wouldn't be able to bear seeing even her fall to despair.

She was the stronger one, and he had to take care of her strength, to feed and nurture like one would feed a dying fire.

"Everyone is overtaken by what's happening. Everyone's affected in one way or the other. And it's alright because I know you. And I know you're strong enough to admit it. 'told you were the coolest one and it's the truth. I just want to... make yourself stop staring at that star so hard. To stop you from burning from inside-out from pretending everything's alright when it's not. Nobody's perfect, and that's alright, innit? Because I'm there for you to finally let go of some steam. To be your own worrywart self if you want or anything. Because I trust you. And because I love you so fucking much."

Too bad. His voice cracked into a high-pitched moan on that very last word, somehow robbing them of their grandiose. He didn't even expect to blurt out such a confession so easily. It felt like a waterfall of thoughts and memories overtaking him.

A real shower.

He cleared his throat, shuffled a bit on his rear to find a better position, and let his eyes idly focus on the swirling shower drain as the stream of consciousness trickled back through his mind.

"I don't know what's going to happen. But I know that if anything happens I want it to be with you. With us together. Because even in the face of the end of the world as we know it I'll keep trying to make you laugh and smile. Because I don't want to see you cry."

So, The mill stopped. The river ran dry. The words didn't came anymore and he was left feeling empty and slightly stupid, surprising even himself at how overly verbose yet composed he had become. He felt utterly drained. Unable to pinpoint the nature of a strange, dizzying emotion that was stirring under his skin.

"There. I think I said just about everything I had in my heart right about now." he mumbled, shoulders slumped, watching the last few soapy bubbles of foam disappear down the shower drain, amidst a thin dash of red blood.

"I simply asked you why you tripped me up..." she said with a low, soft voice.

"Huh. I'm sorry about that."

"No, don't be."

He felt her slightly shuffle behind him, leaning her upper body forward until she could push the flat of her nose at the back of his head. He felt a gentle, affectionate nuzzling rub before she turned her head to lay her cheek against his hair.

"There is a truth in what you said. It makes me sad, somehow." she followed, her tone slow and forlorn, "It's... painful to hear that truth. I want to say to you that you're wrong, that I am not blinding myself, that in this moment you have to keep going, keep strong for everyone's sake. But..."

She exhaled and paused. Then, after a small silence, took a deep breath before continuing.

"...But I have to keep stubbornly believing in this convenient lie. That we can still do something, anything to keep on going a little while longer. To keep holding on hope. Focus on the things that I think are worth protecting..."

Another pause, accompanied by a gentle, knowing nudging push of her nose against his scalp.

"You think I am scared, but I am not." she followed, a strange, longing smile in her voice, "At least that's what I keep telling myself. The truth is... a little simpler. I feel... Angry. Most of the time it's anger. Anger for a lot of things."

She recognized this strange, gentle way she was using to explain her anger. An icy and calm tone, yet still soft-spoken and gentle. A voice like cold iron, slowly being thawed by a deep, burning fury. He knew that was the voice she conjured when she was overwhelmed with her emotions, a crack in her attempt to bury her inner turmoil under the mask of stoic indifference.

"I'm angry at how unfair it is." she spat, squeezing him tightly against her, "Angry about Palaven falling. Angry about Earth falling. Angry about Cerberus cutting through the Citadel like hot plasma through snow. Angry about people I care about dying and having to keep going on, for everybody else's sake. Angry about all the misery building in the Wards and the Docks and having to keep standing guard like an unfeeling statue in front of empty embassies... Angry about, when we finally go try to do some good, we're confronted with apathy or hysteria. I'm angry about having to debate with other officers if we should let petty thieves and small fries prey on those refugees to focus on the bigger picture. And... And I can't bear hearing the Volus ambassadors cry behind locked doors anymore."

Her words flew like his did, free and unburdened by guilt. Her voice cracked on her last sentence, and it sounded to him like an iceberg snapping under its own weight. Her words gave him a chilling insight on what was truly gnawing at his lover's wellbeing.

"I'm sick and tired, and exhausted from having to do this cold, ruthless calculus everyday. Because, in the end, you know... I am not a very good model Turian, not at all. I can only think about myself."

He frowned, suddenly confused at the turning nature of her words. He instinctively opened his mouth before he could think up any intelligent words, but before he could say anything she let out a bitter scoff, and her voice turned from glacial to shaking, weavering.

Crumbling from within.

"Because, in the end... I don't want to be alone. I want you. To be with you. Spend time with you and forget about everything else, like before. But it's just that. A delusion. A dream, right? Like staring at the sun. But what if the sun was the only thing worth staring at? Maybe it's true that I'm fooling myself, because I want to pretend we can be happy. Together."

She let out a wicked, desperate snicker that turned into a mad sob.

He could feel his heart being wrenched by her words, by her despair, by this pipe dream of a happy ending to all. A cold shiver ran over all of his body, and a strange sense of vertigo took hold of him. He felt dizzy. Adrift. Rocked and knocked around as if in a sea storm.

The water didn't feel warm on his skin anymore.

And he could only frown, his face stuck with an ugly, pained grin on his face.

"I'm sorry." he feebly mumbled, trying to resist the increasingly difficult urge to cry.

"Sorry for what?" she cackled behind him, "You're the one who unleashed total obliteration of all civilizations on a galactic scale? Don't be sorry, you imbecile. You're not at fault."

He grit his teeth. Somewhat feeling deeply guilty of not being able to do more for her. He was the one who snapped at her in the first place, barking at her like an angry hound about opening her eyes and lying to herself.

It turned out that her eyes were open the whole time. And she was stronger than him for not having bent under the weight of it all, like he did.

Behind him, her breath had gone ragged and wailing. Her fingers, interlocked with his, were shaking and squeezing too hard. He could feel the print of her mandible pushing against his head.

She was crying.

An intense chill transfixed his body, born of a feeling of shame and guilt. His throat felt eerily dry, and he could barely keep his lips from trembling.

"I'm sorry because I made you cry." he shuddered, giving in with the tears himself.

"It's unfair. It's just unfair to be robbed like that. I want more time." she followed, her usually low voice taking in a high, almost mewling tune. "I want more time to spend with you. I want to be able to look forward to getting drunk and laughing at stupid games with the squad. I want to go back to when we could spend an entire day doing nothing and not worrying, and just wake up to snuggle and... And... And me getting worried about those feelings I feel for you."

She ran her hard cheekbone against his head. Her intent was affectionate, but there was a despairing urgency to her rough motions.

"That's why you're an idiot if you think I'm not selfish." she added, her voice weak and hoarse, "Since I saw you there, standing in front of my door, popping out from out of nowhere, I wanted to grab you and keep you for myself. I didn't realize how much I missed you until faced with the possibility of seeing you go away. I didn't want to lose you again. To see you go not knowing if I'd ever see you again. I wanted you here so I could forget all of this. To keep that little hope from disappearing completely and... have a chance to be happy again. Maybe that's why you think I pretended to... be something I'm not. Maybe I did. But all I wanted was..."

She paused, let out a long, sobbing exhalation, and cleared her throat. He heard her swallow back a whining moan as she seemingly tried to calm her nerves.

For his part, he abandoned all delusions of control, and was left crying and sobbing in the cradle of her long arms. Tears mixing with pulverized water, all falling toward the metal drain in a shallow whirlpool.

"... I wanted to have a fighting chance." she meekly whispered, "And being able to face up what comes next with you by my side. Like before..."

The note of despair that colored her words felt like a cold, sharp jab in his heart. He leaned forward, passed his hand over her bent knee for support, and quickly rotated on his heels to kneel face-to-face with her.

He never saw her so despondent. Her shoulders were sunk low, mandibles weakly trembling against her clenched jaw, and her round green eyes looked at him with a pained expression. Water rolled and dripped over her angular features, gathering in a shallow pool formed by her widened neck-bones. The shower made the trail of her tears invisible, but there was no doubt she was crying.

She sniffled and swallowed back a whimper, then watched him in silence as his own face crumpled into a twisted grimace of distress.

Gently, carefully, he leaned forward to clasp the side of her head in the palm of his hands. Locking his thumbs just behind the articulations of her mandibles, he pulled her ever so slowly to him until he could rest his forehead against her hard, plated brow. Now, eye to eye, he began to speak with a low, warm and smiling tone, hoping to placate the fear and sorrow that thundered through his lover.

"Hey hey hey. I'm here now, innit? And I'm not leaving you any time soon. We're together now, and I ain't quitting you."

He closed his eyes and affectionately rubbed his brow against hers, listening intently to the echoing sobs that she kept from leaving her lungs.

"It's like opening a wound to better look at it so you can better heal it, yes? What's hurting you and me is out here now, and just like the water it's going down the drain. We will find a way, you and me, together, just like you said, just like before." he whispered still, "Now nobody has to pretend anymore. Just need to... let go. Then I'll pick you up and dust you off like you do for me. And we'll think about something. Together. Yeah?"

She let out a strange sound, like a muffled whimper, and her hand swiftly slid over his shoulder to grasp behind his nape. As she pulled his head closer, he fell her warm breath over his chin, and he instinctively knew to purse where to find and connect with the thin sharp line of her lips.

The rushing water that still fell atop them made the kiss feel slick and wet, and the minty smell of her sporty body wash was overwhelming his senses. It was a modest shallow kiss, where lips simply laid atop lips, but there was a quiet sense of comfort in this gentle intimacy. Still, with the way her mandibles still clicked against her jaw and how her fingers curled nervously behind his head, he could feel the muffled desperation and tenseness of his lover.

After a few moments of stillness, she forged on ahead with warm intent, pushing and nibbling at his lips before breaking off and leaning her forehead against his, her wrists still interlinked over and around his shoulders. She breathed in, long and deep, with her eyes closed. She opened her eyes at the same time she exhaled, locking her gaze with his, and an ember of her resolute will kindled back to life. She let herself slide to hook behind her thighs and shuffled on her rear, scooting slightly away and nodding to her side as an invitation. He sat cross-legged beside her, on the cold wet steel floor of the shower, and leaned against the knobby carapace of her shoulder.

Looking at nothing in particular, he began to reflect and ponder in the quiet moment. It felt strange, and almost a little bit comical, to sit side by side with his alien lover like this. There was a slight, biting irony in trying to find a way to stave of the coming oblivion with his manhood flopped boorishly between his legs and his entire body smelling like a ripe salarian fruit salad. But at least now he could now shoulder the future with her.

"So. What's the plan?" she softly said.

He did not have a clear answer. His own original plan was a selfish one, to run away from the Citadel and find an empty rock to drown himself in cheap alcohol and await the final obliteration. A bitter frown fell upon his brow as he tried to think of something better than flat optimistic platitudes to tell her. He scratched at his cheek, rubbed his chin vigorously with the palm of his hand, but every plan he wanted to propose to her began the same exact way.

They would need to go far away from the Citadel.

"Would you go back to C-SEC with me?" she asked, turning her head towards him. "I could put in a good word with the Chief. Get you back on with the team."

Her mandibles clicked and opened slightly ajar. Her eyes darted quickly over his face. She seemed to still hold on dear the little security and order that the C-SEC would provide.

He frowned. To survive this whole thing, getting away from the center of attention of the entire galaxy would be the first step.

"No. I don't think that would be a good idea." he answered dourly, "We have been doing our best, but it's not enough. It won't be enough. With each planet that falls there will be a new wave of desperate refugees and people that will try to close their eyes and pretend everything will be alright."

He cleared his throat. The bitter taste of painful memories forming a knot in his throat.

"C-SEC has been stumped twice before. First with that Geth warship thingie a few years ago that waltzed straight to the Presidium Tower. Then with those white and gold murderers that came and went like they owned the place. Both times we did everything we could. Both times we were gutted and left to pick up the rubble and pretend everything's alright, pretend we're not living in on a giant space station we barely know about."

She was listening intently to him, solemn and silent. And so he continued, letting a little bit of the paranoid idea that bloomed in his mind in the last few days tinge his words.

"Even the Councillors barely know what to do anymore, and that's not counting on what happened to Udina." he grumbled, unwilling to conjure up in his memories the dire events that transpired during the Coup, "For all we know, the entire Citadel ain't the technological marvel that the Protheans built to be the center of their empire, but a giant death trap where you could reap all of the galaxy's leaders in one fell swoop and leave the entire galaxy in shambles... We've almost been had before, and I don't want to be on the frontline when the war will come knocking full force on the Citadel's door."

She turned away from him, an introspective look on her face. She probably thought about it. Like everyone at C-SEC did. But maybe she was still holding on to that turian hope of being able to make everything right by sheer discipline and will alone. Still, he found it strange that she was so silent. He expected her to argue with him, to try and convince him to fall back in the ranks and try to do something...

He wondered what she was thinking about.

"Have you ever been in a storm?" he asked her.

"Huh ?"

"A storm. Like on a planet. A typhoon. Hurricane. Blizzard. Anything like that?"

"Hm. Once. Back when I was doing my classes on an arid moon. A sandstorm rose and swept around our base for a couple of days." she answered.

"When I was a young lad, a giant typhoon passed over where I lived. Everything was pretty much flooded everywhere. A real big mess."

"What is your point?" she said, turning her head towards him, her mask-like face not showing any peculiar emotion. He took a long breath in, cleared his throat, and answered.

"My point is that when you're in a storm, you must dig in and brace... and wait it out. That's all there is to it. Prepare, dig in, brace and wait it out. Running around with guns, standing around guarding warehouses or embassies, or catching the looters that bolted away with fancy new holodecks won't do anything to stop the wind and rain or... snow or sand. Innit? That's for after the storm's over."

"Hm hm?"

"When you're in the middle of the storm, you're just left to wonder if everythin' will hold on and for how long it'll last. It has to take its course, and you can't do nothing about it except maybe dig in deeper..."

"What do you mean?" she asked, squinting at him, mandibles clicking softly against her jaw.

"I say, maybe those Protheans on that Ilos planet had the right idea. You saw the documentaries, right? All those rows and rows of casket-like things in those ruins. The biggest and best preserved Prothean ruin in the galaxy that was only discovered a few years ago, at a time we thought the Citadel was their greatest work yet. Somehow, I think they tried to weather a storm as well. Tried to dig in, brace, and wait it out. It didn't work out in the end for them but..."

He idly kept scratching at his dank beard, twirling the strands between his fingers as he was searching for the right words.

"It's like having some earth beneath your feet to dig a hole and hide would always be better than staying on a giant metal thing drifting in space."

He turned toward her, searching for the depth of her eyes.

"That's what I think we should try to do, you and me. Find a place to dig in and hide. Away from here, the Citadel and all that misery building up. Away from this death trap. With some earth or sand or snow beneath our feet to dig a hole and wait for the storm."

"Hm."

She looked at him with her usual stone-faced stern frown, but he could see in her eyes that she was thinking about his words, taking them into consideration, mulling them over...

"You think we would have more luck than those Protheans on Ilos?" she asked, a light color of caustic sarcasm in her flanged voice. He thought about it. There was probably no chance of surviving, yet...

"I don't know, but you asked me what would be my plan, and my plan would be to cozy up in a comfy cave at the far end of a forgotten rock and wait out the end of the world, bundled up with you in a warm blanket, with a hot cup of chocolate and coffee with it."

She let out a hoarse, mocking snort... Before quietly giggling to herself as she turned away from him.

A small smile crept up the corner of his lips, and he felt somehow proud of having managed to make her laugh in such a moment.

"You do realize that being in the turian military means we'd still be out doing exercises and sorties during sandstorms, blizzards and nearby solar eruptions?" she retorted with barely a concealed hint of smugness in her voice. "We would just change the routine to how to locate and extract a wounded teammate during a sandstorm. We would not be afraid of a little extreme conditions if people depended on us."

His smile faltered. Damn those turians and their ruthless efficiency at being unreasonable, he thought to himself.

"But I see your point." she followed, "And even if I don't fully agree with it... I..."

Her mandibles flexed low and ajar, unveiling the row of her dagger-like fangs. Her eyes darted along the opposite wall, not focusing on anything in particular. Frustration was easily readable on her features. The words kept dying in her throat in indistinct, quiet grumbles.

"I may have thought about a plan." she whispered stiffly, her long fingers knitting nervously over her knees. "But I don't know if it would be any good."

She was eyeing his hand, and he instinctively understood to lend it to her. Her palm closed around his, and they stayed still for a while, their interlocked fingers laying on the wet floor between them. He did not dare say anything. This seemed like an important moment for her, one not to rush.

"Listen. Listen close. Because I loathe what I am about to tell you, and I'll probably only be able to say it once." she sighed, looking both distraught and guilty. "A few weeks ago, one of my old comrades from my service fireteam contacted me. He works for Armax Arsenal, and we talked a while and... we argued a lot too. He tried to convince me that there's a better place to make a difference than C-SEC. That it would be better to leave the deadlock situation on the Citadel altogether to work for Armax Arsenal... "

She paused, as if the mention of the famous turian weapon manufacturer corporation left a sour taste in her mouth.

"According to the information he was allowed to tell me, there's a lot of traffic going through the Annos Basin, through the Horsehead nebula. Something big is going on. Cargo ships full of high-end construction material going to and fro. Corporations lending most of their resources to shipyards and construction centers. They are recruiting en masse and..."

She turned her head to him. Her mask-like face was dour and stern, but he noticed the way her mandibles trembled softly around her steely features.

"There would be a way... for me... to join his security team at Armax Arsenal. Join the war effort in a small way. Away from here. Away from the team at C-SEC... Away from the Citadel..."

His throat felt eerily dry, and a creeping sense of dread spread tendrils across his spine. Despite her wording exactly what his heart desired, a true way out of the Citadel, it still felt like gambling on a unknown parameter.

But then again, it was a gamble worth taking.

Because she had it.

Her ticket out of the Citadel. Something to latch on outside of the colossal, cold station that kept closing its eyes on the war.

"Go for it." he said, squeezing her hand inside his, "Go for it without looking back."

"You don't understand, don't you?" she snapped back, leaning on her other arm to better face him, "Leaving the Citadel now... It would feel like deserting everyone left here! I'd leave the team when they need me to become some kind of... corporate goon. And... And-"

"No, luv', you have to let go of this line of thinking." he calmly answered, moving his hand to gently caress at the smooth, rugged curve of her cheek. "C-SEC alone won't be able to save the Citadel. You, yourself, won't be able to carry all of C-SEC on your shoulders. Think of it as a way to make an actual difference, just like you say, just like that friend of yours said."

"But-"

"It's really not like you to doubt like that, innit?" he said with a grin.

She fell silent, her heavy plated brow finally relaxed and her side mandible pushed slightly against the palm of his hand. Her gaze was still intimately locked with his own. He could see the doubt and apprehension in her deep green eyes.

He smiled at her and took a deep breath.

There was something important that he wanted to know...

"Besides, what I really want to ask you is... Is there a place for me on that way out?" he asked, trying to conceal his worry behind another crooked smile.

She blinked rapidly, as if surprised by his question. Then she frowned and let out an indignant huff. She looked at him like she would at a dumb, useless life-form. An entire palette of various degrees of scorn quickly crossed over her features, and his smile crumbled into a worried grimace.

"You're dense, aren't you? I'm asking you because I wouldn't be able to do this alone. I'll need you!" she emphasized, bringing her face so very close to his, "I'll need-... I want you to come with me. I- We'll find a way. I don't care if I have to smuggle you inside a turian torpedo, but I wouldn't be able to leave the Citadel if you're not with me. I need you, and I need you to... want to come with me."

Now he understood.

He was her push.

Her reason to be selfish.

A shame he missed his line. All he could do now was nod and quietly chuckle at his sightlessness.

"Alright. I got it. I told you before, dinn' I? I ain't leaving you anymore."

She closed her eyes and exhaled, leaning forward to bump her plated forehead against him.

"Good. That's good. At least now..."

Her shoulders shook, a strange, deep chortle escaped her lips.

"At least if that goes wrong I'll be able to blame it on you."

"Pfhah!"

She had a way to surprise him with her own unexpected brand of humor. They shared a soft, gentle laugh together, forehead against forehead, as the water kept flowing over their skin. He opened his eyes to see that her face had become his entire world. A set of thin cat-like pupils was watching him attentively. The red streak of her markings making a beautiful contrast with the emerald green of her eyes.

She was warmth and comfort incarnate.

She leaned her head slightly on the side, half-closing her eyes and barely opening the thin line of her sharp lips to welcome a new kiss. His hand moved in the nook behind her mandible, pulling her closer...

However... Out of the blue came a sudden, horrible mechanical noise. A short, screeching horn-like note whose tone made him jump and his skin crawl.

What was that noise?

He turned his head away from her, desperate to find the location of this sound that took him so by surprise.

Then, from out of the blue, came a light-hearted, overzealous synthetized asari voice.

"This is an automated forewarning ! You have used more than 80% of your monthly quota of – HOT WATER HEATER – HYGIENE AND DOMESTIC USAGE. Please be mindful of your consumption of -WATER- during your stay on the Citadel. For more information on your local residential allowance, please refer to-"

"...ThankyouIknowdonotbothermewiththisagain." his tall turian lover speedily blurted out, drawing a beautiful arc with her fist to pound against the small black digital screen above her head.

"Thank you, have a nice day!"

She let out a weary sigh and let her hand fall back to her side. She threw a meek glance toward him, mandible clicking softly against her jaw. The romantic and gentle mood had been shattered, and both of them were left curled up and tense from the abrupt interruption.

"What was that horrible noise." he asked, "It's the first time I heard a house VI screech like this."

"I don't know why it started doing that. Maybe the speaker's inner electronics got fizzled when my place got wrecked..." she answered with a shrug, "...We should finish up here. We've been here long enough."

"A'ight."

She swung her body forward and rose on her long legs in an impressive display of flexibility and abdominal strength. She then threw her hands upward and tensed up her entire body in a feline-like long stretch, making her exoskeleton and spine crack and pop in a satisfying manner. She let out a satisfied hum, leaned backward to make her last vertebraes settle in, and turned towards him, lending her hand to boost him up.

He caught her extended arm, rose and stood beside her, and heard his bones play their own little chorus of crackling and popping. It felt good to be standing again. As he made a few circling motions to soothe his sore neck, she tapped on the digital black screen and silenced the shower stream.

"We'll talk about... what we should do later, alright? I still need to think." she said, facing him again, a somber glint of doubt making a shadow in her gaze.

"...A'ight. No problem. We can talk later." he answered with a reassuring smile, pressing his hand against her waist.

"Good."

Her mandibles clenched shut, droplets of water running along their edges to fall in rhythm inside her widened collar. Her matte skin and bone plates were shimmering nicely under the soft white light of the room.

She turned away and opened the clear panel of the shower, hopped over the small elevated buffer and skipped to the wide sink box on the far wall. There, she grabbed the lone crimson red towel that rested over it and unfurled it around her shoulder.

"Got the last one." she chirped, swaying her hips around in a cute tease. He joined her and leaned over the sink, examining his face in the mirror as she was vigorously ruffling the towel around her body.

Shoulder slumped, a clumpy wet beard and heavy dark rings around his eyes all contributed to make him look like a sad, mangy monkey. The small, thin scars that once criss-crossed his cheeks had healed nicely and were barely visible now, even if the memory of what caused them was still here, buried in his memory like an ugly jack-in-the-box. He gave a toothy smile to the twin brother that faced him in the mirror and watched as the grin grew wide and devilish. You still got it, he quietly thought to himself. All in all, he wasn't looking too terrible, especially with this sharp new buzz cut... or at least, he hoped so.

Maybe he could use a shave, at the bare minimum...

… He still hated shaving.

After drying up her thighs and legs, she hooked the red towel around her shoulder, like one would do with a royal mantle. Stone-faced, she looked at her reflection in the mirror gauging herself. She lifted her chin, straightened her back, flicked her mandible and shaped up to attention with practiced ease. From the corner of his eye, he saw her frown and squint before leaning in close. With the tip of her taloned finger, she traced over the wide streak of her markings, scratching at a spot on the side of her flat nose.

"Looks good to me." he told her, not seeing anything wrong with her facial markings.

"Hm... Maybe it's a little drab now." she mumbled, straightening herself to better examine her reflection.

He turned to the mirror to stare at their silhouettes, side by side. The two of them made quite the pair, dangerously close to the cliché buddy-cop duo of the tall stoic one having to put up with the smaller jokester partner.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You're not bleeding anymore, but…" she whispered, glancing guiltily at his back "there will be a few marks."

"Don't ya worry about it. I'll just slap some medi-gel on them." he assured her, not feeling any kind of pain from her previous scratches. The water had probably played a role in making the wounds look worse than they truly were.

"What caused you to accuse me?" she asked nonchalantly, directing her question to his reflection.

"Huh?"

"When you said I was "scared". What caused you to think of that?"

"My beard. It's what you said about my beard." he answered, scratching at the culprit with a lazy gesture.

Her mandibles clenched shut and a frown fell upon her brow.

"What do you mean?"

"I suspected something was wrong when you complimented my beard." he followed, grinning at her, "You used to always hound me about it. Because most of the human officers were clean-shaven and it made me look scruffy and primitive."

"... I did?"

"Yeah. You stopped not that long ago."

"Hm."

She looked back at his mirror image, fixing an inquisitorial gaze onto his face. Her mouth began to draw a small curve, accompanied by a meek mandible flick.

"Guess your beard grew on me. It looks... well... How to say."

"Oh?"

"Fluffy?"

"Aww. I think my beard ain't the only thing that grew on you, eh?"

She let out an indignant snort and threw her towel at his face.

"Don't push your luck, dummy." she laughed.

He chuckled with her, wrapping the red cloth around his head. The soft fabric was slightly humid and soaked in the tangy smell of her sporty bodywash. Almost without thinking, he took a deep breath as he ruffled the towel through his beard, taking in his lung this heady perfume.

"I'll wait in the bedroom. Dry up well, alright? I don't want to sleep on dank sheets."

"Understood."

"Oh, and in case you forgot..."

Through a half-open eye, he saw her lean slightly to his side and swiftly slide her arm behind his back.

Smack.

With a meaty clap the feeling of her hand came over his rear. She brought her mouth close to his ear, close enough to feel her hot breath fall straight to his core.

"I love you." she whispered with a teasing squeeze, barely brushing his lobe with the edge of her lips.

She laid her mouth upon his cheek and swiftly turned away, disappearing behind the closing bathroom door. Leaving the warm mark of her kiss and imprint of her hand like signatures in his mind.

All that was left in this narrow, steamy room, was a naked man, grinning ear to ear and frozen in place by the loving hex his tall alien girlfriend had lain upon him. Her overtly forward display of affection made him happy and slightly excited. For a welcome moment, dark and foreboding thoughts had been replaced by new, lascivious images.

He began to vigorously dry himself, looking forward to join again with the woman he loved in the cozy nest of her own bedroom, where so many good memories have been forged in the crucible of her bedsheets...

You still got it, he quietly thought to himself.