A/N: I have NO idea where this idea came from, but it wouldn't go away until it had been put to paper. Sorry for anyone who has their fluffies destroyed as a result of my suspicious mind, and this is very much NOT set within the Teandraverse. Just a little blurb until the new chapter posts in Tenebrea, sometime around Friday. :D

To Tame a Mercenary

Chapter 1- Judge

I watched her retreating form, trying to balance personal want and mission parameters with the concept of loyalty to a commanding officer that had been beaten into me since birth.

So far, I'd been able to avoid lying to her outright about why I was really here. She had taken my presence on the Normandy at face value; had never questioned the situation she'd found me in on Omega. On some level, that in and of itself was strange, considering that no tactician was going to allow himself to be trapped in that building when he could have taken a tactical retreat to regroup. True, turian society drew a very fine line between tactical withdrawal and surrender, the latter of which was punishable by death, but something about that whole damn scenario should have caught her attention.

She may have been human, but she'd spent a long time learning everything she could about all the races who had joined her on the SR-1, and she wasn't stupid by a long shot. Something should have struck her as odd, and the fact that it didn't only helped enforce the rightness of my mission.

She'd put me back at her right hand without qualm, taken me on every skirmish; listened to my advice on tactics and maneuvers. The longer I spent back in her presence, the more I believed once again that it was truly the Commander Shepard responsible for Saren's destruction. As such, I'd almost felt it to be my duty to break up her argument with Councilor Velarn when we'd gone to meet the Council. They'd been overlooking the obvious, and the terse and highly encrypted message I'd received after that meeting had been irritating, but also had been worth it. Defending her could be blamed on my cover, and therefore excuse me from the repercussions of speaking against a superior officer.

Until I realized that I was in over my head.

I had treated Shepard as a soldier, telling her stories of battle prep just like any other, never anticipating where she would take it. At her words, "Why don't we skip right to the tiebreaker?" I found that a whole new group of problems had entered my life. Almost panicked, my mind had railed against blowing my cover in spite of my own lack of attraction to humans, managing to sputter out some not quite eloquent assent.

After she'd gone, though, I'd started to consider the implications of such a joining. The results couldn't be pretty.

Turians do not view sex as an emotional commitment. Sometimes you may feel something for the person your with, but watching Shepard and Alenko on our first mission together had been more than enough exposure to assure me that the act had a completely different cultural meaning than to my people. Her blatant offer to 'blow off steam' had devil-may-care air about it, a fuck-off to the lover who scorned her on Horizon, but I also knew her well enough to know it wasn't. Commander Shepard did not invest herself in anything halfway. It was all or nothing, and it had only taken five minutes of consideration to realize that if I went down this path, there was no turning back; and if she were to discover my dual-purpose, my life would probably be ended before I could ever explain myself. That is what she had done to that man in Chora's Den when he'd threatened to expose her somewhat sordid past.

So I'd tried to reason with her, encourage her to try something closer to home, only to have her say, "I don't want something closer to home. I want you. I want someone I can trust."

If I didn't know better, I would think I heard an emphasis on that last word.

I'd bought myself some time, asked her to wait, convinced her I was nervous about the idea of being with her; the truth of the matter was I was nervous what my handler would think. He'd approved of the completion of my mission on Omega, and to this day I wasn't entirely convinced that Aria hadn't pulled strings to get me there in the first place. But that was speculation for another day.

Regardless, for better or worse, I was in this to the end; and I'd be lying if I didn't say there wasn't something of an exotic attraction to the woman. But the council was probably not going to approve of this new development at all.

Human Hero and Turian Tactician: two Spectres tasked with saving the galaxy. One by acting as she always had, and one by making sure the first wouldn't betray us all to Cerberus in the end. She was unaware of my own status, assigned while she was MIA for two years, and keeping my cover required that she never be made aware of that purpose.

And yet…where does the mission end and personal obligation begin? And how much loyalty did I owe to the profession I had desired since childhood when compared to everything she and I had endured in our romp across the galaxy? That was a matter for much thought, and something I better figure out before we prepared to hit the collectors where it hurt.

Returning to the Citadel had seemed an inevitable choice upon her death, and I'd found that my actions in the fight against Saren were well regarded by the Hierarchy. While most turian candidates spent years trying to gain the Council's attention in order to achieve their official Spectre Candidacy, my own was streamlined, putting me on my first mission within two months. That mission had been given by Councilor Velarn himself, thereby putting me above my father's reproach. Even forcing him to grant me a measure of grudging admiration, in spite of his absolute hatred of the Spectre Service.

"Garrus Vakarian," the councilor holds himself regally, my own parade rest precise and crisp due to the pride I associate with the entire event, "First of all, I would like to congratulate you on your newly acquired status. Your record indicated you may be well suited to this profession, and I'm glad to see that our beliefs were well justified."

I continue to hold myself at parade rest, remembering to keep my military bearing in spite of my joy at his words.

"For your first assignment, I have a mission of the utmost importance. We've received word that a man we have been hunting for two years has resurfaced, a spy for a loyalist group. He's on Omega, and may have information about their movements and current plans for sabotaging the political structure on Invictus. You will need to get close to him, earn his trust, and feed us any information you discover. Also, be prepared to make Aria aware of your presence and purpose, as you would not want to have her believe you are there to investigate her."

"Yes, Sir. The name of the target?"

"I have forwarded all the information to a private vessel we have provided for you, but after this you will need to rely on the Vakarian Clan funds, which we have persuaded your father to grant you access to once more. The target is a man named Lantar Sidonis."

I had tracked the mark and gotten the information, all the while being able to justify my actions because they cemented my association with the rock's pirate queen. Just prior to that bastard's betrayal, however, a new set of mission specs had come in.

Primary Mission is still priority, and the last set of intel you provided proved more valuable than we could have hoped. However, there are rumors circulating that an old associate of yours may not only still be alive, but working for a pro-human organization you've crossed paths with in the past, by the name of Cerberus. Should these rumors prove true, then be advised you are to abandon all other assignments in favor of accompanying this individual and gaining her trust by whatever means necessary. We must assure galactic stability, and make sure she is not a traitor to the Council.

Little did I know that my target had planted that last set of information. He destroyed the team we had built, set me up to die next, only to have his plans destroyed by the very woman who was to become my next assignment.

He was dead now, on order from the council, though the Commander had taken no steps to stop his demise after my story of his betrayal.

But all that had led to this, and I had to wonder if I were any better than the man I had spent two years hunting.

Shepard trusted me, albeit without good reason, and following orders was something that had never come naturally to me. It had become obvious she wasn't under the influence of the corporation that had built her; she spent too much time telling them to fuck off for that. She also, while angry with the council, was dedicated to the mission they had given her; took pride in her status as the first human Spectre. There was no reason to continue the Council's charade, other than their orders not to blow cover.

But I had an immense respect for Shepard and her 'get the job done at all costs' attitude, so to continue to observe her in the name of the Council was starting to burn. In the end, I did have the executive power to take action myself and inform her, but to do so would be to risk her wrath.

And possibly her bullet. If she viewed my actions as a betrayal instead of duty, she'd shoot me on the spot. I was confident in my abilities with a weapon, but any battle between myself and the Butcher of Torfan would be more than likely to tear the hull apart.

So better to wait, and bide my time. Perhaps circumstances would present themselves to make it a more intelligent strategy to inform her.

In the meanwhile, though, what in the hell would I do about her 'offer,' if you could call her blatant advances and offer?

Well...I'd said I'd do some research. There was certainly no harm in that, was there? I could always claim cold feet in the end if I found the idea too crazy to attempt.

And watching porn would have to be one of the best mission assignments I'd ever had the misfortune of receiving.

A/N: Update as of 1 Jan 11: I am changing this to in progress, as there have been several requests for this story to continue.