Chapter 1

… Running…

It was dark, and the rain was coming harder… a flash of lightening let her see where she was, but only for a moment. Nearing the trees, and, oh good, there's the fountain. I'll hide behind there for a moment. He doesn't know the layout… ok that was stupid, of course he does, he would have investigated the lay of the grounds from his first days here. Still, maybe he doesn't know how far I've run, maybe I've lost him.

He had lost her, but only visually. He could still smell her. His visor showed him her heat trail, close enough he could see her breathe in the cool air. The rain wouldn't hide it, just as the rain wouldn't wash away her scent. He could hear her heart when he was close enough, pounding fitfully in her chest. He knew she feared him, and that was wise, but he was certain that it was for the wrong reason. He had no intention of hurting her, only of impressing upon her certain truths. What she should fear more than anything was that she might not be completely aware of all the repercussions of having provoked a full-grown male turian into an all out mating-challenge, the outcome of which would affect her for the rest of her days. He was, in fact, sure of that.

The Queen-Elect stopped at the fountain, and quickly tried to control her breath, tried to be still, tried to focus on what exactly was the plan, and knew there was none. She'd played in these gardens all her childhood, trying to get in as much pretending with her imaginary friends as she could before being called in for the next session of endless lessons, tedious and painful for a child. Her friends, as invisible as they were, still held her more closely in their hearts than any of her tutors and mentors, task masters and drill sergeants. She could pretend these friends that only she could see loved her, cared for her, cared about her and did not care about the embarrassing accident of her birth. But try as they might, none of her childhood playmates could remind her where to go next. The garden was walled in. When she'd kicked him—the chimera-looking being called a turian—in the face, her frustration overwhelming her, she had not expected him to give chase. He had been so completely cool toward her for so long that she truly believed he would simply write her off and leave, going back to his suite as he always did. All her best efforts to get his attention, to make him aware of her feelings for him, had been utterly wasted. While the treaty she had brokered was hugely beneficial for both of their planets, hers getting the turians' vast military expertise in righting her planetary defenses, his the technological advancements and raw materials that they needed to recover from what they had called the "Reaper" attack, this personal relationship that she had tried so hard to kindle was an embarrassing waste of time, and her heart was broken for it.

But Garrus did not back off, nor did he retire to his suite. Instead, he growled. Literally. Long, deep, reverberating in his chest, echoing off the hard stone walls. And in that instant Gracie knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she had kicked a lion in the face. A three hundred pound, six and a half foot tall lion with a genius level I.Q. A lion that just happened to walk on his hind legs. It was such a stark, terrifying juxtaposition from the melodic, hypnotic voice that he normally used when he was with humans that it hit her like a bucket of ice water. It screamed alarms at every human instinct she possessed, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was in a closed room with a large, dangerous animal… with teeth… and speed. And though she had in fact gotten lucky enough to catch him so off guard, and in the perfect spot under his right mandible, right where his corrective cybernetics were implanted, and successfully tip him over a table so that he was thrown off balance just long enough, and just perfectly enough, that she knocked him to the ground, he was still on his way back up as she turned and ran, panicked, for the only close exit, which was to the garden. She went over the balcony and through the nearest bushes as fast as she could go. Her years of training and familiarity with the garden helped her, but only for a short while. She had some distance from him, but he was fast. Unreasonably fast for a creature his size. It was with some sinking dread that she realized that if she had gotten away, or away this far, it was because he let her. And he let her because he knew that there was no way out of this garden, save back the way she came.

Give her a little room, let her get passed the worst of her fear, then move closer. He would only approach when he could be reasonably certain that his presence wouldn't instill irreparable terror in her. Garrus knew he had scared her, he had done it on purpose for her own safety. She had managed to piss off an alpha bull turian, literally kicking him in the face and knocking him to the floor, and instinct had seized him before he could stop it. Now that he had his bearings and better understood the situation, he relaxed, and wanted her to as well, or at least, as much as possible, given the situation. She was, after all, trapped.

Yes, he did in fact know the garden was walled in, and he would not let her get passed him and back into the palace. He would give chase toward the back of the verdant landscape, back to where he would have the privacy he needed. The female was physically able to accept him, he was fully aware of that, had confirmed this through research. He further reflected on something his old commander, John Shepard had said once, and if anyone would know, it was Commander Shepard… "Asari, human… where sex is concerned, I can say first hand that, at least down there, where it counts, there is NO difference." And Garrus had personal friends and acquaintances who had Asari mates. If a turian can mate an Asari, a turian can mate a human.

He had always known this. And so when he had accepted this assignment to this lost human civilization called K'OrSachea, and subsequently become increasingly aware of the interest that the young Queen-Elect had in him, he had found himself pleased with the knowledge. He had not wanted to inspire feelings in her that would lead them down a dead end road from a practical standpoint. He had no reason to feel revulsion or disinterest in this small, lovely creature… except that he had feared that she was not strong enough for him.

He had made advances, but they were met with demure acquiescence. This confused him. He had seen Gracie confront unruly and disrespectful commanders with strength and clarity. She refused to back down in the face of patronizing diplomats or inconsiderate ambassadors. She was unwavering in her demands for the rights and the considerations she pushed forward relentlessly for her people in the face of Elitists. She tirelessly negotiated for the sharing of available technologies, trade agreements, or machinery and resources that would help the turians. She had in fact put together this treaty for mutual assistance between Palaven and K'OrSachea, which had to have taken enormous courage. And yet, when he would come to her office and meet with her on any subjects other than governmental issues, she was sweet. Shy. And while he found it charming, and kept his council and watched his manners, he knew more each day that she was not strong enough for a physical relationship with him. And he dare not make any advances on her that might be misinterpreted by any onlooker. Rape or intimidation were absolutely out of the question, had not even entered his mind. Being a creature other than human, he did not know exactly how to court a human female or make her aware of his interest as well.

That last problem had solved itself back in the palace, though. The signal was there…. The scent, the stare, the challenge… the hunt that she dared him to finish….