Author's Notes: Okay, one last warning to the idjits who didn't read the one at the end of the last chapter: Depictions of M/M sex are present in this chapter. If you find such material objectionable, please don't read below this note. Thank you, Rembot

To everyone else, I hope it's good for you, too. wink

SMS: Short Message Service - Chapter Three

Stiffness and confusion clouded Pallin's body and mind when he finally woke from his drug induced slumber. Brief glimpses of his return home passed through his head, along with an unusual sense of dread, but he couldn't recall what it was he'd been running from. He tried to gather his scattered thoughts, but all of his mental acuity had been replaced by a chemical stupor. Foggy as his mind was, he wasn't sure he could trust his memories anyway.

With achy, languid movements that revealed how weak he had become, he turned his head to survey his surroundings. The walls were bare except for the Citadel's ever-present comm devices, and the furniture around him was arranged at exact angles. There was little in the way of color or decoration, and the few personal articles he saw were neatly organized. He realized with some relief that this was his home, so at least some small part of his traitorous mind was still functioning.

He tried to move his arms and legs, but the former were bound behind his back. From his slouched position in the living room chair, the best he could do was to kick at the floor to right himself. The awkward arrangement he was currently in was hurting his back and shoulders. As his talons slid across the smooth floor, he wondered how long he'd been laying this way. After working himself into a sweat for several minutes, he finally managed to make it to an upright posture. He was encouraged by this small success, because with it came a degree of clarity.

His omni-tool was missing.

Whatever it was that held his hands, he could feel it digging into both wrists. If he were wearing his omni-tool, it would have provided a barrier against the uncomfortable bonds. That revelation quickly led to another as the drug began to wear off - the watcher. That's why he'd come home in such a hurry. He had been trying to avoid the very person who held him now. But something was still missing…

His attempt to piece together what little he remembered was cut short as the comm on the wall rang. It lit up and the bright flashing sent Pallin's world spinning. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, and when the ringing stopped a mere second later, he concentrating on listening. Someone had picked up the line.

"Hello?" a smooth voice echoed from the kitchen, "No, this is Detective Chellick. I'm afraid he's a bit…tied up at the moment, but I'd be happy to take a message."

Chellick. Everything came rushing back to Pallin with that name, and the turian felt himself flush with anger and embarrassment. He glanced at the comm to make sure the line was still active before struggling his way to his feet. He didn't know where he could go with his hands tied up the way they were, but he had to try something. Tense and frustrated, he crept as quietly as he could to his bedroom. If he could just manage to get his hands free, the spare pistol in his nightstand would come in handy.

"No, everything's just fine," he heard Chellick tell the caller, "The Executor is in good hands. No, thank you. Bye, now."

Now that his distraction was gone, Pallin picked up the pace down the hall. His home wasn't large enough to hide in, he had to get his hands free to fight back. He took a moment to look over his shoulder frantically, and it was that move that proved to be his downfall. A wire caught his right foot and sent him falling to the floor without even his hands to support himself. He took the fall square in the jaw, and the impact knocked the wind out of him. Cursing mentally, he rolled onto one side in pain, trying vainly to cradle a busted knee.

"Ah-ah-ah," clucked a familiar voice as a set of talons clicked the floor in front of his face, "Can't have you damaging the goods, Venari."

Pallin rolled onto his back with some effort and glared at the white turian.

"You drugged me," he hissed through his sore jaw.

"Yes, yes I did," Chellick admitted flippantly, "But don't worry, I'm here to nurse you back to health."

The white turian crouched and helped Pallin sit up against the wall.

"You sent those messages," the Executor added.

"I did."

"Why?"

Pallin was about to pound his companion with more questions regarding his sanity, but the sudden intense gaze Chellick locked on him made him stall against his will. Something in the detective's emerald green eyes told him he was trespassing on dangerous territory.

"Why?" Chellick repeated, "Why?"

The white turian flustered for a moment, something Pallin had never seen him do before. Normally he had a barbed comment or back-handed compliment for every situation. He could dance around any conversation with ease, yet here he was, without words for once in his life. After opening and closing his mouth several times, Chellick resorted to a quick slap across Pallin's face. The Executor's eyes flew open in shock.

"You stupid, stubborn man," Chellick foamed, "Haven't I been trying to tell you that all day?! Did you even bother to read the card I sent? Or did you send it to the toxicology lab for testing right away? Hah. Figures... Work is all you think about anymore, you don't care at all for the people around you, only your image as the Great Executor Pallin."

Chellick stood up, leaving the Executor in a undignified heap on the floor. The white turian paced in a small circle, his head darting back and forth in anger.

"You know, I used to think you were something special, Venari. You saw potential in me all those years ago, when everyone else at C-Sec was ready to ship me off to the labor colonies. Maybe you never trusted me," he said, pausing to give Pallin a thoughtful glance, "Maybe you still don't, but you stood up for me when no one else would. That has to count for something…"

"Chellick, listen to me -" Pallin interjected.

"No! You listen. You're always the one giving orders, always the one in control. Well, I'm in control now. I've worked so hard over this past decade trying to get your attention. Trying to pay you back for the kindness you showed me once, but it's never enough for you. You continue to go about blindly, demanding more and more of me and your other officers, without ever acknowledging our gains or our feelings. That's why I had to send those messages, Venari. That's why I had to trick you into coming here. That's why you're tied up on the floor instead of sitting with me at a nice dinner like I would have wanted. It was the only way to make you listen to me, and you still couldn't piece it together."

Chellick stopped pacing and drooped his shoulders. His voice was tired when he spoke again.

"You have your own pride and self-centeredness to blame for the unhappy state of your life, Venari. And I have only my heart to blame for what I've done here today."

Pallin fidgeted on the floor, unsure of how to respond to his friend's tirade. He slowly recalled the messages he'd received, and the anonymous letter he now knew had been penned by one of the people closest to him. He'd never imagined the letter was sincere, much less written by someone he'd known for years. A weighty sense of humility fell over him as he realized Chellick was right. Even after their ten year friendship and the hints Chellick had given him, he couldn't connect the letter with the man standing before him. Chellick might as well have been the stranger Pallin thought he was. He really had been blind.

"Will you untie me, now?" he asked quietly, unable to meet Chellick's eyes.

"I'd like to release you, but how do I know you're going to behave? You've already tried to run away once, and I'm not letting you go anywhere until I've made you understand."

"You said something about dinner," Pallin said, "I'm hungry."

Chellick seemed to relax, then nodded.

"I made your favorite."

.oO--Oo.

Pallin rubbed his wrists as he watched Chellick move about his kitchen with ease. The detective was busy finishing the meal he'd begun preparing while Pallin was knocked out, and Pallin was busy contemplating this new facet of their relationship.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked awkwardly, trying to mask his emotions behind a gruff tone, "About my eyes, I mean?"

Chellick glanced up from his work long enough to flash a playful grin.

"Oh yes," the white turian replied, "I hope the rest of you is just as pleasing."

Pallin flushed and flared his mandibles. He watched Chellick absently stick a talon in his mouth, licking off the bit of sauce he'd accidentally dipped in his hand into while replying to Pallin's question. The older turian's throat constricted and his skin started to burn a little. He blamed it and the tingling sensation in his loins on the drug Chellick had slipped him earlier.

"There," Chellick said as he sat a dish of hot food in front of Pallin, "All done. I hope you like it."

The white turian prepared his own plate and scooted around the bar to take a seat by his friend. Pallin pushed the food on his plate around, distracted by the odd, electric feel coming off of the turian next to him.

"It's not poisoned," Chellick said flatly.

"What? Oh, no, I…never mind."

Chellick shrugged and took a few bites of his food. Pallin tried to focus on the plate in front of him and eventually managed to follow the detective's example. He was pleasantly surprised to discover the food was delicious, much better than the hurried meals he was used to.

"This is excellent," he remarked. Chellick smiled.

"Well eat up, you're going to need your strength."

The rush of heat that bloomed in Pallin's face caused him to bring his hand up so Chellick couldn't see his reaction. What was wrong with him? He hadn't felt such foolish feelings in years. Such things were the pleasures of younger turians. Much younger turians. Besides, Chellick was his subordinate. To allow their relationship to become anything more than it was would be unprofessional. He warred with his emotions while Chellick cleared away the dishes. When Chellick touched him suddenly, it was as if a static charge rippled across his body.

"Those handcuffs really hurt your wrists," Chellick said apologetically as he inspected Pallin's forearm gently, "I would have padded them first if I'd known you were so delicate."

"It's nothing," Pallin replied as his legs rebelled against him and began to turn to jelly.

"You've scuffed your face a bit from the fall, too. We should get you cleaned up before those cuts have a chance to get infected."

Pallin was too weak to protest as Chellick led him to the bathroom. It was only when his companion started running water in the bathtub that he managed to pipe up.

"What are you doing?" he asked anxiously.

"Preparing to give you a bath," Chellick replied, "Warm, hot or room temperature?"

"There's a med-kit in the cabinet, there's no reason to-"

"You injured your knee in that fall as well. You've been limping since I picked you up."

"It's not that bad."

"Not yet, but it will be if you give it time to become inflamed. If we soak it in warm water with some salts, it'll keep the swelling down. Besides," Chellick said with a grin, "You've had a hard day. You deserve to relax."

When the bathtub was full, Chellick turned to him pointedly, but Pallin could only swallow nervously.

"Off with it," the white turian instructed. When the older turian refused to obey, Chellick put a hand on his hip and sighed. "If I have to pistol whip you to get you in there, I will, but that wouldn't be much fun for either of us."

Pallin looked at the steam rising off the tub and wondered if it was just the warmth rising off the water that was making sweat so. He took a step towards it, facing opposite of Chellick, and slowly began unclasping his polished C-Sec uniform. Chellick's hands reached up to slide off his chest piece as Pallin's common sense screamed at him for his weak-willed lapse in protocol.

"This can only end badly," he whispered, somewhat emboldened by the moisture-thick air that stood between them like a curtain. His eyes fluttered and he shivered when Chellick's breath caressed the back of his naked neck.

"Remember what I said in my letter?"

"To stop assuming the worst," Pallin replied.

"Good, you're starting to pay attention. I knew you'd come around."

Chellick traced a line of fire across Pallin's chest with his talons, and nuzzled his neck slightly, taking in the older turian's smell.

"Is that a yes, then?" he whispered into the hollow under Pallin's jaw.

Pallin tilted his head back and closed his eyes in defeat as Chellick's hands roamed lower.

"Just tell me one thing," Pallin said.

"Of course..."

"This won't turn out to be some one-night fling, will it?"

Chellick took his hands back and made Pallin turn to face him. To his shock, he could see tears forming in the turian's eyes, even through the room's misty atmosphere.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" Chellick asked softly, "That I'm here to hurt you?"

Chellick stroked Pallin under his chin and chuckled.

"We've been at each others throats for the past ten years, Venari. As charming as I like to think I am, I know that in truth, few people would put up with my antics as you do. No…I'm afraid we're stuck with each other." He wrapped his arms around Pallin and raised an eye ridge suggestively. "As such, I'd like to make the best of our time together."

Without another word, Pallin finished stripping and stepped into the bath Chellick had prepared. The warm water felt good against his bare skin, but Chellick's deft hands felt even better. He relaxed and allowed the younger turian to run a wash cloth across his every inch of his body. He closed his eyes and allowed Chellick to wander as he willed.

"You're remarkably fit, Venari," Chellick observed appreciatively, "But your nerves could use a little work."

Chellick's hands found the knots in Pallin's neck and shoulders, and in short order, he'd managed to soothe away the uncomfortable cramps. Once his work there was done, he traveled to another area in need of his ministrations. Beneath the water, Pallin was in a full state of arousal, his long-dormant sex drive called forth by the skillful touch and musky scent of the turian attending him. He ached with a long unfulfilled need, a need Chellick needed no coaxing to address. A small moan parted Pallin's lips as Chellick began to stroke him. He felt his body tighten up like a spring, but Chellick's slow rhythm unwound him again. The sensation spread through his veins like poison, and he could see his breath in hot clouds before his face.

Chellick picked up his pace methodically, sending Pallin higher and higher with each circuit along his length. When the older turian finally did come, it was with a sharp cry and a shudder than sent water splashing over the side of the tub. His whole body went limp, and Chellick smiled in satisfaction.

"You see now, Venari," he joked, "I'm good for more than catching criminals."

Pallin took a few moments to catch his breath before replying.

"And I'm better for more than being your victim," he retorted, "Are you getting in or not? The water's getting cold..."

SQUEE! I'll let your imaginations take it from here.

The End