Of Spars and Tiebreakers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Garrus and I don't own Shepard. I don't make any money off of this - I just do it for fun. Mind you, Shepard's personality is mine and mine alone. Don't steal her or I may bite.

Isabelle Shepard was, to put it lightly, in a mood. Stormy grey eyes could melt the hull and had effectively warded off any concerned well wishers. As she moved through the ship her gate was full of dark purpose. Miranda would say Isabelle was in "Iron Clad Bitch" mode; a name the crew was fond of using, and equally fond of getting the hell out of dodge when the mood rose in their Commander.

Her ship was in top form, every upgrade in place, every crew member prepared for the possibility of death. What had her grinding her teeth and wanting to pulverize the next person she saw was completely external. The Illusive Man had sent a message to her terminal- saying in no uncertain terms to get her ass moving and get the job done. This was her damn ship - her mission - her fucking crew and when this was all over the Illusive Man was going to know just what she thought of him.

The molten path Shepard had been cutting through the galley came to a halt as she barreled into the resident gun calibrator - Garrus Vakarian.

"Whoa Shepard. Who the hell shoved a stick up your ass tonight?" He rumbled in his strange but enticing flanging voice.

" Fuck you Garrus, you know who! The Illusive - fucking- Man."

All she got in response was a snort and amused fluttering of mandibles. Huffing and pushing herself out of the Turian's reflexive embrace she slide a hand over her civvies, smoothing out non existent wrinkles in a show of dismissal.

"I swear Shepard; its only the people in command positions that can work you up to this state."

"Oh bite me Vakarian." She shot back, eyes hard but slowly giving way to amusement.

Garrus shook his head, taking in her predatory stance, the tension thrumming through her. Making a decision he tilted his head and issued an invitation.

"If you're that pissed, take it to the floor - spar with me."

Isabella only had to consider it for a split second before the intense hot and compelling need to beat the hell out of something answered for her.

"Lead the way."

The walk down to the cargo hold was relatively silent, save for the occasional snide comment and the barking replies that followed. The human commander and turian sniper had been fast friends in their mission to stop Saren and the friendship had been easily rekindled after her death and rebirth.

-_-_-_-_-GV-_-_-_-_-_-IS-_-_-_-_-_-

There was something distinctly off about his commander tonight. Garrus couldn't put his finger on it exactly but she was virtually singing with stress, rage and tension he'd never really put into an equation with Shepard before. It was messing with his head on a level that he - as a Turian- didn't want to consider, and as her friend concerned him.

It was what had compelled him to ask her to spar, and even now as the last mat was being set into place and heavy armor started being shed - he did not regret. This was something humans could take from Turian culture - a good spar every now and then was cathartic and let you get your head back in the game.

However, when Garrus looked up, having finally shed the last of his armor, he felt his mouth go dry and every male aspect of his being look up and say hello. Shepard was sitting in a split, twisted at the waist to face her left leg and was bent forward to her foot - stretching. While he'd known most species apart from his own were flexible in extreme ways, to see his commander execute such a move was strangely …erotic.

"Are you just going to stand there and gape Vakarian or are you going to limber up?" Isabelle inquired, standing and immediately bending backwards until she looked like she would break in half. Grumbling a reply, Garrus made short work of his stretches, straightening when he saw Shepard had completed her own tantalizing display.

'Tantalizing….did I really just think of my best friend and Commander as tantalizing?' he muttered in the confines of his head as he took a defensive stance.

-_-_-_-_-GV-_-_-_-_-_-IS-_-_-_-_-_-

Isabelle studied the sturdy turian, sizing up his defense and the best way to start this. She wasn't eager to engage talons or leg spurs - but seeing as this wasn't an actual fight she couldn't employ more underhanded tactics like going for his softer plated waist. Finally deciding to just go, she threw two punches at his face, sharp and short, enough to get him moving and not actually meant to land on target.

The spar erupted from there. Soon fists were followed by feet as the momentum evolved. Her breath came in controlled heaves, a fine sheen of sweat coated her honey toned skin. A good ten minutes in even her mood was lighter - hard jabs became playful, kicks became less violent and uncontrolled.

As Garrus picked up on this he eased back as well. Now she took the time to take in the rather impressive visage that was her friend. Even with his cybernetics, Garrus was handsome. He stood at least a head if not more taller than her and was rather nicely built for a turian. Its not like she was an authority on such matters but in her own opinion, having interacted with Nihlus and Saren, she vastly preferred her turian's build over theirs.

It was the commander's musings over the sniper's physique that landed her flat on her back , wrists pinned and at a distinct disadvantage. Growling at her stupidity she looked at the smirking turian.

"Yield Shepard?"

"In your dreams Vakarian"

Planting her feet firmly on the mat, she heaved her hips up in an attempt to dislodge Garrus. He laughed as he lost his grip on her wrists and the spar started anew. After some fifteen minutes, they both noticed that some of the crew had heard their banter, growls and grunts of exertion, meandering down to see what exactly was going on in the bowels of the ship.

Bets were being placed now, Chakwas and Mordin among the minority of betting for Garrus to win the bout. Miranda and Thane were no where to be seen but Yeoman Kelly and Tali cheered with enthusiasm for the Commander.

The spar dragged and dragged, Isabelle had executed some of her favorite and most distracting moves only to be countered by Garrus' reach. Grumbling she decided to start using her own height to try and tip the scales.

Dancing into his personal space, she began landing open handed hits on his plated torso, shifting like water away from the turian's attempts to grab her. Confusion was clearly getting to him, mandibles held close to his mouth and normally amused blue eyes starting to take Isabelle seriously once more.

They'd been at this for nearly two hours now. Two exhilarating hours! Garrus reveled in each landed hit and each dodge. All the stresses of the last nine months melted away, thoughts that had plagued him for days righted themselves and got filed away.

The only problem now was that there were bets being placed; a show to put on and for the life of him - he could not focus. She. Was. God. Damned. Sex. In. motion. And it was severely screwing with him. They'd fought together before, and that was a fact that made these reactions strange. He'd seen her fighting millions of times now, it had never effected him like this- not once.

Her soft hands were landing blows on his plates - it was heavenly in a strange sort of way. Were he with another turian it would be no more than an open handed blow. But with her - Isabelle - Valkyrie Commander of his life - it was turning highly erotic with a speed that would soon embarrass him.

Flipping through his options, he managed to grab the slippery female and take her to the mats. Wrestling her into a figure four hold he waited patiently for her sign of yield. Growling when she would not give it he pulled a bit tighter ad waited.

The crowd was nearly silent, waiting to see what was going to happen. Would the commander break it, go completely primal on the turian, or admit defeat? After some tense moments, she sounded her defeat.

"I yield…" She muttered, and was instantly released. Cheers and groans sounded in the crowd; but neither participant of the spar paid any mind.

Storm grey eyes, intense and searching, met feral blue and a new, shorter, nearly unseen spar took place. Only one keen eyed Salarian took any notice.

"Care to try this again….without the crowds?" Shepard murmured, counting on Garrus' superior hearing. Her words though seemingly innocent, were delivered with a smile that sent pleasant shivers up and down the man's spine.

"Lead the way" he shot back, voice dropping an octave, a deep rumbling chuckle bubbling forth when the Commander's eyes dilated ever so slightly.

It was going to be a very interesting night.

A/N: Well what do you think? The steamy bits are coming. The fight isn't actually all that well described I know. But with a lack of resources and no practical experience I felt it best to focus my attentions else where. Leave a review!