AN: Figured it started with drinkin', it needed to end with some drinkin'. Also, I would not recommend drinking as much as Shepard and Garrus seem to. Apparently fighting the Reapers gives you super-endurance to liver damage and alcohol poisoning.
This will definitely be the last chapter in this fic. I needed to write something with a happier ending than some of the other stuff I've been writing lately. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy.
Drunken Fun
I Never
Shepard managed to stealthily avoid Garrus for the next few days. The first day wasn't hard. Hell, the whole crew was hungover and stayed in their respective quarters/lairs/random places they had decided to bunk. All she had to do was ignore the dull ache between her legs and the shiver that went down her spine whenever she thought about him.
The second day wasn't so bad either. They were still docked so all she had to do was get up early and head out. She cringed, though, realizing she had to resort to using Omega (not exactly known for its lovely scenery) as a hiding place. But she managed to purchase some much needed upgrades, so really, it was a great cover.
The next few days were a little more awkward. She had to resort to using the duty roster to find out when his shifts were, then planned her duties around avoiding him. It wasn't until the sixth day (technically, five days, twenty hours and eleven minutes… but who was counting?) that she actually saw him. She was just finishing her dinner and about to head down to talk to Tali and Jack when he came out of the battery.
She tried not to blush, gave a small smile and a friendly wave as she dropped off her tray. She maintained eye contact just long enough to see him nod towards her, then retreated – at a reasonable pace – to the elevator.
Before rounding the corner, she chanced a look back to see if he was watching her. He wasn't. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
Well, at least if he remembers anything, he's not letting it affect his work. That was a good thing.
Right?
Garrus had no idea what to think when he woke up the next morning. His thoughts were a blur and his memories of the previous night were more so. It gave him a headache just thinking about anything after the club, but he managed to piece together some images. Images of Shepard on top of him, moaning, calling his name-
But it was hard to actually believe that. Hell, any male on this ship would jump at the chance to fuck Shepard (and Garrus had the nagging suspicion that some of the females would too), but she usually didn't mix business with pleasure. And certainly not with aliens. Not with him.
So he let it go. As best he could, anyway. Didn't let his mind linger on the fact that he hadn't seen her since then. Told himself that night and his increased use of the shower were in no way connected. That he'd spend more time in the hot water than necessary, jerking off to memories that wouldn't fully form. Pretending the steamy drops of water were her hands working their way down his body. What the hell did any of that have to do with Shepard?
In the end, he had to admit to himself that something had changed, whether or not anything had actually happened. His nights were lonelier, his days were longer.
Slowly but surely, he found himself spending more of his free time with a bottle in his hand. Somehow it was the only thing that made his head less cloudy. Whenever he drank, he could still feel her hands on him, could still smell and taste her.
Which is how he found himself halfway between drunk and passed out a few weeks later, sitting alone in the mess hall. Not that he minded the alone part. He'd noticed how he had become worse company than usual lately, too distracted for conversation, no matter now trivial. He was quietly nursing a beer, listening to the gentle hum of the engines and the dimmed lighting when he heard the elevator move.
Up from engineering. Stopping at the CIC. Up some more. Top level. Only one person who would head up there this time of night…
He was on his feet and waiting for the elevator before he understood what his plan was. What was his plan, anyway? Go up, barge in on the Commander as she tried to go to bed? Demand a pity fuck and then be just as miserable tomorrow when she kicked him out of her cabin?
He still hadn't come to any decisions as he found himself outside her door.
Slowly, he counted to ten, trying to calm down. You can still turn around, Vakarian. No need to make a complete fool out of yourself.
But then he imagined her in her underthings, climbing into her bed…
Way to think with your dick, he berated himself as he knocked on the door.
The door was too thick, he couldn't hear any movement on the other side. Maybe she was already asleep. What was probably relief swept through him as he leaned on the door for support.
He almost fell on his face when the door slid open.
"Garrus!" Shepard cried as she tried to help him maintain balance. "Are you alright?"
"Fine! I'm fine!" he stammered as he more or less fell into her room, the door whooshing shut behind him. His heart was beating faster and his breathing was more labored than it had been a minute ago. It's because you almost fell. Not because the Commander's hand is still on your arm, he reminded himself.
"Do you want to take a seat?" She gestured to the couch with her free hand. "I was just about to go over some reports, but I don't mind the distraction."
Just a distraction, he thought bitterly. "Sure," he tried to be lighthearted. He concentrated on getting down the stairs without tripping – a feat for anyone even a quarter as tipsy as he was feeling.
As he took a seat, Garrus took a moment to appraise the Commander. Shorts, a tank top… and nothing else as far as he could tell. Because that's totally going to help me focus.
She flopped down a few feet away from him, going for nonchalant. Did turians even do "nonchalant"? She almost giggled at the mental image.
Shepard wasn't sure what this was about. Something was obviously on his mind.
- Or someone.
- Quiet, you. If he wanted something… like that, he would've mentioned it weeks ago.
- Well, Miss I'm-the-Commander-so-I'm-always-right, why IS he in your quarters at this ungodly hour looking all cute and awkward?
- Oh please, Garrus is perpetually cute and awkward and has never had a good concept of time. As far as I know he wants to discuss his latest set of calibrations.
Before her internal debate could go on, she realized that neither of them had said anything out loud since sitting down. "Something you wanted, Garrus?"
"Uh…" Hearing her speak snapped his attention back to her. This probably wasn't a good idea. Whatever had inspired him to come up here… Well, now that he was here, it had abandoned him. His nerve was gone and his insecurities were back. "Spirits," he leaned back and buried his face in his talons, "I need a drink."
Shepard smiled. "Well, that's something I might just be able to help you with, Officer Vakarian."
He couldn't help but watch her as she opened a minifridge next to her desk and pulled out two bottles. His mandibles twitched in amusement. "You just happen to have dextro-alcohol in your cabin?"
"Wellllll," she was pulling shot glasses out of the top drawer and filling them each to the top. "Tali's been coming up so we can catch up and reminisce and all that stuff us girls do, and last time she forgot her booze."
"Hmm, I'll drink to that."
"To Tali forgetting her... 'Flotillan Ale'? God, that sounds terrible."
"Good a reason as any."
An hour and five shots later and Shepard had caught up to Garrus' respectable buzz. They'd been babbling about who knows what (they sure didn't). Really, it was whatever came to mind except what they both actually wanted to get off their chests.
"I've never laughed at one of Joker's 'jokes.'"
She let the vodka wash away her annoyance. "Yeah, well… I've never been to Palaven."
"You're cheating. You may as well say 'I've never been turian.'"
"Drink up, Vakarian."
He made a face. This really was cheap liquor. And he always thought Tali had had good taste... "I never died."
"Ass." She took another shot. "I never got three bands of mercs to team together to take me out."
"You're still young." He chuckled and took his drink. "I should get a goddamn medal for that one by the way." His fingers twitched on the glass as the liquor burned its way down. He was surprised he could still feel it. "I've never been made a Spectre."
"C'mon Vakarian, don't be too jealous." She took her shot.
"Weren't you reinstituted as a Spectre?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "I think that means you need to take another-"
She laughed and winked. "Only 'cuz you're so cute, you turian bastard." She didn't see the way his eyes widened as she said it. "Speaking of- I've never kissed a female turian." She half-hoped he wouldn't notice she'd had to specify the gender…
His eyes never left hers as he took a drink. "I've never kissed a male human."
She blushed. Oh god, did he… She took a drink. "I've never bitten anyone during sex."
He moved closer after he swallowed. "I've never fucked someone under my command."
She didn't bother taking a drink. He was a couple inches away now, but like hell she was going to back down. "I've never fucked my commanding officer."
"I've never-"
Shepard didn't let him finish. Instead she pulled him in by the collar and kissed him, running her tongue along his jagged teeth. She pulled away briefly, foreheads still touching. "Bed. Now."
"Yes, m'am."
It was surprising that they even managed to get their clothes off, disoriented as they were. Not to say they didn't fumble and tear some things.
When she was finally undressed, he gently tossed her on the bed. He took a moment to look her naked form over. Spirits he actually wanted to remember it this time. And Spirits, she was beautiful. Alien, yes. Different, yes. But still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
To say she was terrified when he looked at her like that was an understatement. She'd rather face Saren again than face his rejection right now. Why would he want her now that he knew it was her?
But then he was inside of her and she completely forgot her worries. It just felt too damn good for her to sustain coherent thought right now.
"I've never wanted to fuck a human until I met you," he growled as he started moving in and out. His talons were digging in, finding the same spot they had claimed a few weeks ago. "And I'm going to make sure you never want to fuck another human ever again."
"Cocky… bastard," she grunted, trying to meet his pace but god she could barely keep up. "Just… shut up… and go… deeper…"
Each thrust was hard and just on the brink of being painful. He seemed intent on forcing their way to a mind-shattering climax. The aggressive display surprised her – it was something that had been missing the last time. Granted, he had been barely conscious… But still, she was surprised he had it in him to be so… primal.
As she got closer and closer, she felt her moans getting louder and louder. One hand clenched at the sheets, the other desperately grabbed his cowl.
He was starting to wear himself out. He could only maintain a pace like this for so long… But he ignored the cramp beginning to build in his leg and kept going, letting her cries drive him on. When she arched into him, when he felt her core convulse around him, heard her shout his name in ecstasy, he finally let his body find relief. He pulled her close as he filled her, growling in a satisfied way he knew was anything but human.
Garrus rolled onto his side, Shepard following. She hooked one leg around his waist and rested an arm on his back. He watched as her eyes closed lazily and her breathing slowed. He cradled her gentle against his chest, taloned hand stroking her human hair.
For the first night in a long time, they both slept soundly.