A/N: This is the same story I wrote months ago but with a few edits.

Again, this has also been deleted by me before, despite being the best (and racy-ist) story I've ever written.

And also again, I apologize for everyone who read and reviewed my story. I was a fool to do so! DX

And also, also, I want to thank everyone who read and will read this story. Thank you! :D

"Got a minute to talk?"

Shepard greets Mordin in the usual manner, starting up another one of their regular chats. She's always the only one stopping by to see him after missions during her attempts to get to know the team better. She'd ask him questions about his life and he'd answer whatever he could. It was a simple thing, and supposedly a simple relationship. But strangely enough, he couldn't help but to feel more trustful towards woman more and more with each conversation. Talking to someone for a while just does that, he induced.

"Certainly. Something you need?"

"I'd like to discuss something of a sensitive matter with you. Something medically related." Shepard puts her hands together and rubs her fingers nervously. A small nervous habit that she kept with her all her life, but has rarely shown.

"Of course. Grab a seat." Mordin continues to keep his eyes on his console, trying to keep himself occupied with his work. He reserves part of his attention for Shepard; just enough to satisfy her simple questions. "Please don't mind me working. Need to keep busy with experiments."

Shepard refuses to talk with most of his attention on his beloved experiments. She believes she has a very delicate issue on her mind that needs all of him to be all ears. "Actually, I'd prefer it if you came over here to speak to me up front. It'll be difficult to talk while you're working."

"Current study a high priority, Shepard. Very important. Would prefer to not stop during experiments."

"Couldn't you make an exception? Just this once? It'll mean the world to me..."

He moves his eyes up away from the console, and glances into Shepard's direction. What was more important than this, he thinks. He doubts, but avoids wanting to assume. He puts a pause on his latest test and makes his way around the table, swinging around the corner. "...Alright. I'll comply. What are your concerns?"

"Well, I suppose you're already familiar with how my taste in partners can get quite varied from time to time. I just want to be cautious and prepared for the next person I plan to erm.. target."

"Oh? So you seek sexual advice then?" He's slightly surprised. He knows that Shepard can be become quite adventurous when it came to relationships, but doesn't know the full extent of how far her interest will go. Most likely a harmless request, but it could still be anything. Something worth seeking this level of medical attention for. He's slightly unnerved, but intrigued.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Who do you have in mind?"

Shepard feels part of the privacy behind her situation being threatened, despite it being such a common and basic question. "Actually, I'd prefer to keep that part a secret. It's a very personal thing. I don't want to give you a lot of details. It'll be too telling."

Mordin stands there wondering to himself. Why the secrecy, Shepard? He isn't so unused to secrets. As a scientist, he would commonly run into "secrets" that science would always provide answers for. Figuring out secrets is just part of his game. But playing around with them and causing more secrets to arise aren't. "Please Shepard. Not in the mood for guessing. Will need specific information to be able to provide a professional opinion."

"Just bare with it for a while, alright? I'll do what I can." She brings up her hands, palms facing Mordin, making a pushing gesture that brings a sense of yielding."He's a little erm.. different than the others in his own species. Other than the obvious physical differences and his shortcomings, he's quite strong in character. Really. But it never hurts to be careful, right?"

"Of course. No harm ever came from not being careful." And now she's just playing around with clues. He tended to do that during his experiments as well. Laying down the pieces before him, hoping that the pieces will eventually give out an answer. Always hated it. Still hates it. But he admits, it'll be interesting to see how Shepard handles this. "Any more you can tell me?"

"Judging by the way he carries himself, I would say that he's quite comfortable with the limitations of his own body. But he's also a little self conscious about getting himself handled too roughly. Not necessarily in bed, but in any tough situation. I wouldn't come to you if he was indestructible after all."

He's humored by that description. Sounds just like him. It reminds him of all the times he panicked on speed whenever he felt a bullet wound or had his metal collar like apparatus chipped, usually before another array of bullets would finally come to shut him up. Unpleasantly, some of those bullets would sometimes be sent through the less than pleasant tank bred Krogan, Grunt. "Just wanted to put him out of his misery" he'd always tell Shepard. Out of my misery, my rubbery light toned behind, he'd think.

He loves how Shepard had decided to make fun of him like that. No matter the situation or topic, he always loves any decent attempt at a joke, even if it's towards him or his work. He tries to hide the amusement from his expressions, although he could never handle emotions well. He ends up breaking a slight smile anyways, wanting to return the favor by humoring her back."Don't intend to go soft?"

"I ain't a softy. Never will be." She notices him and rewards him back with a smile. He always knew how to make her smile. His voice and speed talking comforted her sometimes.

"But I'm willing to try to be a little gentle. Wouldn't want to break him after all." She gives him a wink and playfully tries to flutter her eyelids, trying to appear to be mischievous.

He takes a step back in shock and surprise. "...Shepard!" He sees her eye movements as... highly suggestive. He blinks back quickly in flattery. No one has tried to woo him into bed for years now. Granted that he knows that Shepard is only pulling his leg here, but he can't help but to be flattered by the idea. Him and Shepard. Together. In the same bed. Sure enough, he can't feel love or lust like other species can, but a salarian's sense of curiosity is always the strongest. "Will need to be patient! Things will come eventually. Just as you'll expect it to. No need to rush."

"I suppose so. But I doubt things will be so predictable anyways once I have him. He's always full of surprises. He probably has one up his sleeve right now." Her voice still has a sense of suaveness and faux seductiveness to it.

He develops another unsubtle smile. He can't erase this cheeky smile off his face no matter what he does. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Just have to wait and see."

"That's fine with me. But I don't like waiting for long." She turns around, not letting her eyes leave Mordin's sights until she begins to move towards the hallway door.

He notices a fine, casual feminine stride. Hips subtly swaying from left to right relaxed; arms also swaying along with the rhythm of her steps. Something unlike the usual macho military swagger she normally jots around the Normandy with. He remains standing at his position, blinking quickly at the closed door before moving back to his desk, now more distracted than ever.

...

Things became quiet on the Normandy after passing through the latest 24 hour cycle. The ship is currently on route to a random system in a cluster everyone has already forgotten the name for. Everyone on board is now busy doing their own business, with no crew members allowed to linger outside in the mess hall or allowed to get out to chat up each other. It's just like every other day at this hour. Silent and empty. Bleeding with efficiency.

Mordin should love this environment the same way he always does on a normal day at this time. But instead he feels anxious, afraid, and excited even. He feels everything that would send him a shiver down the spine and makes his hands twitch on his console. Why all this unnecessary movement?, he thinks. It has only been yesterday since Shepard came by and teased him like no one else has ever done before. She metaphorically touched in all places he never knew existed. He doesn't believe that he was enraptured by the woman. At least, he doesn't believe it so. He doesn't know what he feels. He has a desire for Shepard to visit him again and yet... He had to be a salarian.

His twitching becomes relieved with the sight of Shepard passing through the door. He grins at her, only to receive her sharp, tense eyes in return, her emotion unmoving. It nearly ruins the mood, but Mordin knows how to persevere.

"Enjoyed conversation from yesterday. Was very intriguing. But I'm afraid we didn't cover much of the details. Care to start where you left off?"

"Sure thing." She ducks down underneath the table and grabs the extra bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy. Mordin found it peculiar that this woman would want to get drunk now with none of her usual drinking buddies around and with the unlively atmosphere. He doesn't stop her as she pulls out two glasses and pours the liquid into them.

"I think he has a bit of strength in him now. He's clearly been through a lot, physically and mentally but I feel like he's softening up now. He should take something that'll make him as tough and rigid as he used to be. Or at least how he claims to used to be." She slides the glass to him. He unanimously accepts and looks down at the liquid. He doesn't normally drink alcohol. It makes him think the unthinkable, do the undo-able, and end up in positions he'll eventually regret for a long, long time. But with Shepard, he finds it alright. His trust in her is deep enough to assume that she won't take advantage of him when he's most vulnerable. He takes a sip.

"Would this only be temporary? Planning a one night deal?" He finishes the glass. He feels woozy, which is generally not a good sign. His mind suddenly gets filled with all sorts of ideas, with no real way of separating the bad ones from the rational ones. He gets the delusion that he's feeling smarter, inspired and uplifted.

"I know a real relationship won't last between the two of us." She's next to finish her glass. She sets it down and spills more liquid into it. "I've always had an eye for him. But he never looks up at me. We talk, but I feel like it never goes anywhere..." She slouches a little onto his desk, supporting herself on the table with her elbow and forearms. She still has a grip on the glass. "I don't know why, but I feel like something was suppose to be there from the beginning. But we're both different people. And we have so much in common. We're both so blunt and hardhitting. Maybe we're just too similar. I don't think it'll ever work either way."

"I agree. That level of emotional attachment is hardly ideal. Too many distractions can hinder work." He finds more brandy in his glass. He doesn't know how it got there. He disregards it and takes a few more sips.

"But I've been waiting for something with this guy for a while now. And I still want him. I want him now. I'm tired of waiting. One night is all I need to be satisfied. I just want him to be satisfied with it as much as I will be." She stands up and straightens herself up. She stumbles a little in her drunken splendor. "Please help me make this worth it. Please send me all those crazy erogenous zone brochures and instructional videos and notes and whatever for me to look at so I can make this good for me and- ..h-him." She stares at Mordin with sullen eyes, sunken in tiredness and drunkenness. They almost make her seem desperate. "I wish I can stop beating around the bush with this. But my heart feels something ugly whenever I think of mentioning his name. It's sort of ridiculous really. You know what it is and I definitely know what it is. But there's something about the saying someone's name that's kind of powerful, you know?" She puts her hand to her forehead in a sudden headache. "Uggh.. I must look like an idiot to you right now, at least compared with your.. *hic* smartness."

"Shepard." He lifts her chin with his fingers, until his eyes finally received the attention he believe they deserve. "I think you truly represents humanity's finest, although you are hardly the ideal. So many flaws, yet stronger in other aspects." He tilts his hand a little, examining her face as her head moves with the foundation. "Clumsy, hard headed , responds too easily to sexual stimuli, and yet you're capable of understanding the concepts of passion, love and empathy. Not unusual to have multiple personality traits in sentient species, but with one with so many and with varying degrees, it's fascinating. Truly a remarkable individual."

He slowly relinquishes his hand when he becomes confident that Shepard would not look down again, lifting a finger at the edge of her chin as a reassurance. He steps in a little closer to her, and brushes his hand against her left cheek. "I feel something for you too. I doubt it's anything more than curiosity and intrigue, but I'm willing to try. If you request it, I am here to provide. Just say the word and I'll come to your special attention."

It was that small innuendo that finally gets her attention. "What was that Mordin, I don't even... know. I don't know what you just said, I can't even think..." She takes another try at thinking again, against her drunkenness and her woozy feelings. Her head begins to pulsate in pain again.

"Perhaps this will make it clear." Mordin plants a kiss on her forehead, despite salarian lips being very unsuitable for kissing.

Her eye lids open up a very alert state. She hits his hand away from her cheek and quickly steps back. She holds up her palms of her hands in a defensive Hold it! gesture. "What? You think I would- no! Just no!"

Mordin stands back, bewildered by her sudden act of rejection. He blinks rapidly, not knowing how to act on this feeling of shock. He studders when he opens his mouth, unable to formulate comprehensible sentences with all the thoughts in his head moving faster than he could speak.

"No.. Mordin. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. mess around with your feelings like that. But I wasn't referring to you when I said all.. those.. things."

"Then who? Who were you referring to?" He stops his blinking. He leans in towards her direction, bending his back into a confrontational stance. "And why lead me into this? All the teasing, all the hints, all the flattery. All just parts of some misleading charade!" He lifts a finger and malevolently points it in Shepard's direction. "You could've written it down. Name on paper would've sufficed. But instead you decided to play me . Y-you- harlot!"

Shepard steps back a little, still looking as stupid and clueless as ever. She can do nothing but stare blankly and shrug. "Like I said, I'm sorry. I was trying to explain it to you, but things just lead from one thing to another pretty quickly. And I was just trying to be funny. That's all. It was never serious."

Mordin relaxes from his tense position. He takes a second to recompose himself again before saying another word. He breathes in deeply, looking up and away from Shepard. "Fine. I suppose that's good enough. No need for further explanations. So tell me. Who were you referring to?"

"Mordin-"

"Just tell me who it is." He turns his head back down to her and stares into her eyes in an instant.

She becomes uncertain of what to say next. She couldn't fabricate a lie this time, or twist things around any longer. She can see that Mordin is already fed up with it all and quite frankly, she's tired of the charades too. She couldn't find a way to weasel herself out of this one. Might as well step out of the box.

"Joker. It's Joker." She expected her heart to finally be alleviated from the feelings, but it only made things worst. She feels more of the nervousness and weight around her chest developing from the sheer silence.

Mordin takes his time to think. Joker. Yes. Of course. How silly of him. Everything she said, every description she threw at him, every little assumption, fit Joker perfectly. Some of them fit Joker much moreso than it did with him. Of course she never would have referred to him. Why would she want a rusty old salarian? And Joker. It all made perfect sense to him. What a fool Mordin was. He's instantly humbled by the truth.

"The pilot. I see. Makes sense, yes. More sense actually." He makes his way back around to his desk, putting his mind back into his console. He begins typing again. "Vrolik's syndrome very delicate. But Cerberus implants are enough to sustain him for almost every kind of stress. Sexual contact shouldn't be a problem"

"I-"

"Sending EDI instructional vids and forwarding medical notes. Can supply lotions and special remedies if necessary. Painkillers will be supplied in Med Bay."

"Listen to me Mordin. Please don't be bitter about this. I know I was wrong for misleading you into this and I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Best to never discuss this again. Pretend it never happened. Need to forget." He digs his eyes deeper into the orange screens, simultaneously working on analyzing Joker's Vrolik's syndrome and in his own work. He shamefully deletes his numerous bookmarks on Human/Salarian relationships, erogenous zones, positions, and the vids. "Was there anything else Commander?"

"No. I guess there isn't. I should go now." She turns away and moves towards the door out to the CIC. She stumbles out of the labs and out towards the CIC, bottle in hand.

"Good luck, Commander."