AN: This is a fill for the masskink meme. Saw the prompt a little while ago and was intrigued by it. As usual for my masskink fills, M rating is for smut.

Thinking of adding a second chapter that would be Garrus' POV.

Drunken Fun

Shepard wasn't one for drinking. Not usually anyway. Sure, she'd have a beer every now and then, but she usually didn't set out with the intention of getting drunk. Apparently she was the only member of her crew like that.

The Normandy had docked at Omega a few days ago to deal with Morinth. Because it had been a stressful couple of weeks – but then again, when wasn't it stressful when you're trying to save the known universe? – Shepard had told the crew they were on shore leave until further notice. Miranda had been upset, but Shepard reminded her that at the moment they didn't really have any leads on the Collectors. Until the Illusive Man got them more info, there really wasn't much for the crew to do except kill random mercs (fun) or scour random planets for minerals (decidedly not fun).

Which was how Shepard came to be sitting at the bar at Afterlife, watching half her crew dancing (though from most of what she saw, dancing should be in quotes) and throwing back drink after drink. Jack was all over Jacob, much to his chagrin. Miranda, even though she had protested so vehemently the idea of the crew coming to the club together, seemed to be enjoying Jacob's discomfort as she danced nearby with a couple very good-looking men. Joker was sitting at the table closest to the dance floor, subtly shooting spitballs at Grunt whenever the krogan's back was turned. Kasumi was trying to show Tali how to dance, and despite her best efforts was failing (that quarian just had no rhythm to speak of).

And then there was Garrus. Although Shepard would have paid tons of money to see him on the dance floor (there was really no limit to the amount of credits she'd lay down), he was at the other end of the bar talking to one of the turian bartenders. She could tell from his body language that he was telling war stories. When else did he look that animated or excited unless it was describing how he'd sniped some unsuspecting enemy through the eyes?

She unconsciously licked her lips. She'd been harboring a crush for the turian ever since she'd found out he was Archangel. Goofy, adorable but capable Garrus from the Normandy SR1? Great friend and trusted ally. Badass Garrus holding off three gangs of mercs? Alone? For days? Hot.

Shepard took another sip of her drink. It was something fruity and green that she didn't really care for, but Kelly had ordered it for her and she didn't want to hurt the Yeoman's feelings. Wincing slightly at the too sweet slush, she continued to eye Garrus. Something about his lithe form, his intense eyes… Nevermind the graceful way he moved on the battlefield… And that voice…

Yeah, no doubt about it. She had it bad for her gunnery officer.

As the hours went by, Shepard slowly finished off a couple more drinks. Nothing excessive. She was a little tipsy, but she was in much better condition than the rest of the Normandy crew. Every now and then one of them stopped by to say good-bye, usually leaving in groups because none of them were sober enough to walk to the ship without leaning on each other for support. Even the prim and proper Miss Lawson graciously accepted Grunt's help back. And it was just too hilarious watching Jacob have to carry back both Joker and Jack.

It was late in the night when she realized she was the only one left. Even though she hadn't been dancing, she was enjoying the music and being able to just sit there and not worry about anything. It had been easy for her to get lost in that sort of freedom, the lack of responsibility. She motioned for the bartender to give her one last round, which she polished off in a couple gulps. Shepard felt a little stiff as she stood up, stretching slightly.

She didn't notice him until she had almost passed by.

Apparently Shepard wasn't the last of the crew to leave. Because there he was, cradling what must have been his twentieth drink of the night (if the number of empty glasses around him were any indication). He was swaying slightly, but not with the music. It was more of the "I can barely stay upright" type of swaying.

She raised an eyebrow. "Garrus?"

He turned to look at her, then gave a smile. At least she thought it was a smile. She wasn't great at the whole turian expressions thing, but she was usually pretty good at reading Garrus. But the drunken look in his eyes made her unsure.

"Shep-" he hiccuped slightly. "Shepard." His normal cadence was made all the more seductive by the slight slur. What had started as a smile turned into an outright grin as he visibly checked her out head to toe. "I missed you."

She blushed a little. "Alright, Garrus, I think you've had a couple too many."

He shook his head and laughed slightly. "I'm fine *hic* fine, Commander. Turians *hic* turians handle their liquor a little better than *hic* than you *hic* humans do."

"Well, that's good to hear soldier." God, why'd he have to be so cute when he was drunk? It'd make it easier for her to keep a straight face. "Even so, why don't we get you back to the ship?"

"Mm 'kay," he said, pushing away from the counter.

She honestly could never remember him even taking a drink, much less being this drunk. It was almost endearing to see him stumble to his feet. He only made it about half a step before he started to fall. She caught him easily (though damn if he wasn't heavy) and positioned his left arm around her shoulders. "Alright, big guy, let's get you back to the Normandy."

He babbled the whole way back. She couldn't make out half of it. Sometimes he'd say something about mercs, sometimes Geth, sometimes C-Sec. She was really confused when he mentioned her "flexibility" and his "reach." Honestly, she wasn't paying much attention to him. He really was heavier than he looked, even in his civvies, and even if she was only a little buzzed, it was hard walking in a straight line while supporting him.

Shepard wasn't even sure how they made it down to the main battery. She was somewhat relieved they hadn't passed anyone on their way through the ship. Even EDI hadn't made an appearance. The idea of the Commander helping one of her subordinates to his room because he was too drunk… The implications were too embarrassing and she didn't really want to think about. And her face went scarlet just thinking about how scandalous Kasumi or Kelly would make it sound if they were the ones to catch them.

She sighed in relief as she set him on the edge of his cot. She'd never asked him why he preferred sleeping in here over the crew quarters. She was extremely curious, but didn't want to pry into something that was too personal for a commanding officer to want to know.

Garrus slumped back against the wall, watching her with a dazed expression. He didn't seem to be quite all there at the moment. She had expected him to thank her or at least say something to acknowledge the fact that she had practically carried him across Omega.

It had felt amazing to have her arm around him. To feel those strong muscles under those smooth, hard plates. She'd touched him before, but always in battle. Always pushing or pulling each other to safety. And always through armor. No time for hands to linger. To secretly explore his back, trailing slowly down to his hips and that glorious turian ass…

Her hands twitched slightly as she thought about it. She looked him over. His eyes were half closed, his breathing was becoming deeper. He'd probably be asleep soon. And he was drunk. Chances of him remembering any of this? Slim to none. Right?

Of its own accord, her hand went up to his fringe. She paused for a second. Wondered if this was really a good idea. But in her tired and somewhat inebriated state, she couldn't find a reason to stop herself.

It's now or never, Shepard.

Gently, barely even making contact, she stroked the full length of his fringe. His bare skin had the texture of leather and the feel of a soft, pliable metal. God was this a bad idea, because now all she wanted was more.

Before she had even finished that thought, he seemed to wake up just a little bit. Enough to purr slightly and lean his head into the pressure of her hand. She really couldn't help herself from doing it again, a little harder this time. He leaned forward now, resting his head against her abdomen.

She kept stroking his fringe, alternating between hard and gentle passes, each time earning a low rumble of contentment from deep in his throat. After a few minutes though, she was beginning to become worried.

This was a dumb idea, Shepard. He doesn't even realize what's going on. You'll be even more head over heels tomorrow, and he won't even have any idea that this even happened. She sighed slightly and thought wistfully, he probably doesn't even realize it's YOU.

"Mmm… Shepard…" he muttered as he nuzzled her slightly. One of his arms came up and wrapped around her waist. She could feel a taloned finger start to make gentle circles on her back.

She really didn't know what to make of this. She went over the facts in her head.

1. He was drunk.
2. She was rubbing his fringe.
3. He seemed to be enjoying it.
4. He was rubbing her back.
5. Hell yeah she was enjoying that.
6. Don't forget – he's still drunk.

Shepard frowned. She should just leave now. Let him think this was a dream if it even made it through his drunken stupor. Forget that she was enjoying the somewhat intimate contact with the guy she was totally infatuated with. She'd had fewer drinks. She still had control of all her mental facilities. She was his commanding officer. Goddamnit, she should be the responsible one here and just walk out and head to her quarters and finger fuck herself into a good night sleep.

In her defense, she really was about to follow through. She only looked down so that she could unhook his arm from her waist. She had every intention of tucking him in and then leaving the battery.

But as soon as she saw his massive erection, that plan went out the window.

Normally, it would've bothered her more to be taking advantage of him. He was drunk, as she kept trying to remind herself. But goddamnit, he wanted her right now. And right now she really did not care if it was just the alcohol. He'd probably want any female that happened to be stroking what she was now pretty sure was a turian erogenous zone. But as fortune would have it, at the moment that female was her.

So instead of leaving – which the sober, rational part of her mind was telling her was still the best option – she got on the cot and straddled him.

He seemed surprised but didn't protest. In fact, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. He put his forehead against her chin and gently nipped at her neck.

Her mind was exploding. Heat was building everywhere. This was too good to be true.

That's because it is – pull yourself together, Shepard, before you end up ruining your friendship!

But it was easy to ignore that part of her as her hands traveled down his back to the bottom of his shirt. She tugged it up slowly and he leaned away from her just long enough for her to pull it off. She let it drop somewhere nearby, not really caring where it went. She was too busy soaking in his beautifully toned chest. It wasn't quite human enough to be attractive in the same way, but it had an exotic appeal to it that she couldn't ignore.

She finally lifted her eyes up to his face to see him watching her intently. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she was worried he'd sober up any moment now.

Shepard smiled wickedly. Her only recourse was to keep going, get him so turned on that he wouldn't care if he suddenly realized what was going on. He was only a man after all.

So she started kissing his mandibles, gently tonguing them while her hands explored his fringe and neck. He grunted his approval and pulled her hips closer to his erection. One hand gradually made it down to his waist and teasingly caressed his cock, which quivered slightly at the contact.

"Shepard," he moaned into her hair.

Just hearing him say her name like that gave her chills. If she hadn't already been wet in anticipation for him, that alone would have done it.

She could feel his talons move down to the hem of her pants. He tugged at them in impatience, and she pulled away from him. She got up just long enough to pull them off and help him out of his – and taking the time to admire his leg spurs – before adding both to the growing pile of clothes by his terminal.

He pulled her back on top of him. He seemed to have no problems finding her entrance and positioned himself to enter her. He looked her in the eyes, a question there. When he found whatever answer he was looking for, he continued.

Her breath hitched in her throat as he entered her slowly. She bit her lip as he eased his way in. God was he big. She could barely hold him. It probably should have concerned her more, but she was too busy enjoying the ridges that lined his cock to care. Finally, he was completely inside of her.

"Garrus," she moaned as he pulled her up and lowered her down again. "Oh, Garrus…"

He seemed to like hearing her say his name because his talons dug into her and a predatory look came into his eyes.

It took them a while to set a good pace. His movements were a little choppy, the beer and liquor still swimming through his veins. But when they finally found one, they met it with barely strangled moans and cries.

He was biting her neck, her shoulder, her ear… Scratching her back, her thighs, her legs… She was kissing him, digging her nails into him, begging him for more. He filled her better than any human male she'd been with, combined sex and fighting in a way that appealed to her as a soldier.

When she came it was screaming his name into his neck. She really hoped she hadn't woken up any of the crew… She could feel him finish inside her, spilling his seed deep in her core and she moaned at just the thought of it. It sent shivers down her spine to hear him grunt her name.

He had passed out almost immediately after. The combination of booze and sex was too much for him. She disentangled their sweaty limbs and got off his little cot. She gingerly laid him on his side and pulled the blanket around him. She knelt beside him and ran her hand down his scarred cheek then kissed it gently.

As she pulled her pants and boots back on, she couldn't help but watch him sleep. He looked so peaceful. She wished she could just snuggle up against him, hold his warm body close…

But in the end, she thought it was easier to go with her original plan. Let him think he'd dreamed the whole thing. Or whatever he happened to remember. It'd be easier than having to explain how his superior officer had taken advantage of him while he was too drunk to understand what (who) he was getting himself into. So she left the main battery and slinked to the elevator, silently thankful that it was still too early for her (hungover) crew to be up for breakfast.

While Shepard made her way into the elevator, little did she know that Garrus' sleeping form was reaching out for his partner, only to find she was gone.