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Of Spars and Tiebreakers	By : MsShadow Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 6184 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not make any money from this work and I do not own Mass Effect nor its sequel or its characters. They belong to Bioware

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Of Spars and Tiebreakers.
Summary: Isabelle Shepard is pissed and Garrus being he good friend he is�Decides to help.
Author Note: I hope you all enjoy this little tale of mine!

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Isabelle Shepard was, to put it lightly, in a mood. Stormy grey eyes could melt the hull and had effectively warded off any concerned well wishers. As she moved through the ship her gate was full of dark purpose. Miranda would say Isabelle was in �Iron Clad Bitch� mode; a name the crew was fond of using, and equally fond of getting the hell out of dodge when the mood rose in their Commander.

Her ship was in top form, every upgrade in place, every crew member prepared for the possibility of death. What had her grinding her teeth and wanting to pulverize the next person she saw was completely external. The Illusive Man had sent a message to her terminal- saying in no uncertain terms to get her ass moving and get the job done. This was her damn ship - her mission - her fucking crew and when this was all over the Illusive Man was going to know just what she thought of him.

The molten path Shepard had been cutting through the galley came to a halt as she barreled into the resident gun calibrator - Garrus Vakarian.

�Whoa Shepard. Who the hell shoved a stick up your ass tonight?� He rumbled in his strange but enticing flanging voice.

� Fuck you Garrus, you know who! The Illusive - fucking- Man.�

All she got in response was a snort and amused fluttering of mandibles. Huffing and pushing herself out of the Turian�s reflexive embrace she slide a hand over her civvies, smoothing out non existent wrinkles in a show of dismissal.

�I swear Shepard; its only the people in command positions that can work you up to this state.�

�Oh bite me Vakarian.� She shot back, eyes hard but slowly giving way to amusement.

Garrus shook his head, taking in her predatory stance, the tension thrumming through her. Making a decision he tilted his head and issued an invitation.

�If you�re that pissed, take it to the floor - spar with me.�

Isabella only had to consider it for a split second before the intense hot and compelling need to beat the hell out of something answered for her.

�Lead the way.�

The walk down to the cargo hold was relatively silent, save for the occasional snide comment and the barking replies that followed. The human commander and turian sniper had been fast friends in their mission to stop Saren and the friendship had been easily rekindled after her death and rebirth.

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There was something distinctly off about his commander tonight. Garrus couldn�t put his finger on it exactly but she was virtually singing with stress, rage and tension he�d never really put into an equation with Shepard before. It was messing with his head on a level that he - as a Turian- didn�t want to consider, and as her friend concerned him.

It was what had compelled him to ask her to spar, and even now as the last mat was being set into place and heavy armor started being shed - he did not regret. This was something humans could take from Turian culture - a good spar every now and then was cathartic and let you get your head back in the game.

However, when Garrus looked up, having finally shed the last of his armor, he felt his mouth go dry and every male aspect of his being look up and say hello. Shepard was sitting in a split, twisted at the waist to face her left leg and was bent forward to her foot - stretching. While he�d known most species apart from his own were flexible in extreme ways, to see his commander execute such a move was strangely �erotic.

�Are you just going to stand there and gape Vakarian or are you going to limber up?� Isabelle inquired, standing and immediately bending backwards until she looked like she would break in half. Grumbling a reply, Garrus made short work of his stretches, straightening when he saw Shepard had completed her own tantalizing display.

�Tantalizing�.did I really just think of my best friend and Commander as tantalizing?� he muttered in the confines of his head as he took a defensive stance.

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Isabelle studied the sturdy turian, sizing up his defense and the best way to start this. She wasn�t eager to engage talons or leg spurs - but seeing as this wasn�t an actual fight she couldn�t employ more underhanded tactics like going for his softer plated waist. Finally deciding to just go, she threw two punches at his face, sharp and short, enough to get him moving and not actually meant to land on target.

The spar erupted from there. Soon fists were followed by feet as the momentum evolved. Her breath came in controlled heaves, a fine sheen of sweat coated her honey toned skin. A good ten minutes in even her mood was lighter - hard jabs became playful, kicks became less violent and uncontrolled.

As Garrus picked up on this he eased back as well. Now she took the time to take in the rather impressive visage that was her friend. Even with his cybernetics, Garrus was handsome. He stood at least a head if not more taller than her and was rather nicely built for a turian. Its not like she was an authority on such matters but in her own opinion, having interacted with Nihlus and Saren, she vastly preferred her turian�s build over theirs.

It was the commander�s musings over the sniper�s physique that landed her flat on her back , wrists pinned and at a distinct disadvantage. Growling at her stupidity she looked at the smirking turian.

�Yield Shepard?�

�In your dreams Vakarian�

Planting her feet firmly on the mat, she heaved her hips up in an attempt to dislodge Garrus. He laughed as he lost his grip on her wrists and the spar started anew. After some fifteen minutes, they both noticed that some of the crew had heard their banter, growls and grunts of exertion, meandering down to see what exactly was going on in the bowels of the ship.

Bets were being placed now, Chakwas and Mordin among the minority of betting for Garrus to win the bout. Miranda and Thane were no where to be seen but Yeoman Kelly and Tali cheered with enthusiasm for the Commander.

The spar dragged and dragged, Isabelle had executed some of her favorite and most distracting moves only to be countered by Garrus� reach. Grumbling she decided to start using her own height to try and tip the scales.

Dancing into his personal space, she began landing open handed hits on his plated torso, shifting like water away from the turian�s attempts to grab her. Confusion was clearly getting to him, mandibles held close to his mouth and normally amused blue eyes starting to take Isabelle seriously once more.

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They�d been at this for nearly two hours now. Two exhilarating hours! Garrus reveled in each landed hit and each dodge. All the stresses of the last nine months melted away, thoughts that had plagued him for days righted themselves and got filed away.

The only problem now was that there were bets being placed; a show to put on and for the life of him - he could not focus. She. Was. God. Damned. Sex. In. motion. And it was severely screwing with him. They�d fought together before, and that was a fact that made these reactions strange. He�d seen her fighting millions of times now, it had never effected him like this- not once.

Her soft hands were landing blows on his plates - it was heavenly in a strange sort of way. Were he with another turian it would be no more than an open handed blow. But with her - Isabelle - Valkyrie Commander of his life - it was turning highly erotic with a speed that would soon embarrass him.

Flipping through his options, he managed to grab the slippery female and take her to the mats. Wrestling her into a figure four hold he waited patiently for her sign of yield. Growling when she would not give it he pulled a bit tighter ad waited.

The crowd was nearly silent, waiting to see what was going to happen. Would the commander break it, go completely primal on the turian, or admit defeat? After some tense moments, she sounded her defeat.

�I yield�� She muttered, and was instantly released. Cheers and groans sounded in the crowd; but neither participant of the spar paid any mind.

Storm grey eyes, intense and searching, met feral blue and a new, shorter, nearly unseen spar took place. Only one keen eyed Salarian took any notice.

�Care to try this again�.without the crowds?� Shepard murmured, counting on Garrus� superior hearing. Her words though seemingly innocent, were delivered with a smile that sent pleasant shivers up and down the man�s spine.

�Lead the way� he shot back, voice dropping an octave, a deep rumbling chuckle bubbling forth when the Commander�s eyes dilated ever so slightly.
It was going to be a very interesting night.
GVISGVISGVIS
The post spar haze clung to the duo as they stood in the elevator. Grey depths with an orange glow, slid over Garrus� body in slow, intense motions. The turian in question was leaning as he usually did, arms crossed over his chest, one foot on the wall opposite the Commander.

�Shepard�

One word had her looking up at Garrus, lips tugged into a grin. �Yeah?�

�Looks like both sets of armor could do with some cleaning�� He rumbled deep in his chest, mandibles splayed in what Shepard has begun to equate with a smirk. Laughing throatily she crosses her own arms and leans her weight to one side, left hip jutting out.

�Why, you offering to clean it?�

�Not exactly Shepard. I was thinking we could put our own wager on this next little spar we aim to have.�

Intrigued, Isabelle stayed silent, motioning for him to continue with a sweep of her hand.

� The rules are simple - we go all out, just no broken bones or lacerations, who ever wins cleans the other�s armor in addition to their own.� Shrugging as he spoke, Garrus waited for the Commander�s opinion. He waited only a few moments to hear her speak.

�I like upping the stakes�but really, armor cleaning? We aren�t Cadets anymore Vakarian.� Smirking she saunters over to him from her spot on the opposite side of elevator.

Garrus feels his blood start to rush, even without the fringe and plating he is so accustomed to, he is now far more aware of why Humans are considered apex predators now. Isabelle, should She be so inclined, could pull a knife; a gun; hell she could even hit him and he wouldn�t even see it coming. All Garrus could see was a honey colored red head, with eyes like gems, blood red lips and generous curves encased in black spandex.

Hell yes, Isabelle Shepard could do whatever she wanted to Garrus right now and he wouldn�t even know what hit him. She knew it too, her hips were swaying more - he swears its more than usual- and she�s leaning - touching his chest - with the tips of her fingers.

�How about this, Garrus,� Her breath is warm, surprisingly sweet as opposed to odorous like most of her species. The turian wonders what she�s been eating, fruit perhaps, certainly not meat�.

�You win - you get me for a day , I win - your ass is mine for a day.� Isabelle is smirking, face so close he can see the small, hairline scars that her reconstruction left behind, her voice is washing over him in waves of warm sensuality and he can�t think.

They stay locked like that until the elevator stops at Shepard�s room, EDI can be heard in the background, enquiring as to why they�ve yet to leave the small enclosure. The sound of the ship VI jolts Garrus from his stupor.

�Sounds like a wager.� Vakarian rumbles low in his chest.

Smiling in victory, Shepard steps back and exit�s into the hall, red hair falling over her shoulder as she shoots a now shy look over her shoulder, waiting for Garrus.

�Well, come on Garrus, before EDI sends out a search party.�
Garrus followed Isabelle�s mesmerizing hips into the Commander�s room, blood rushing around his body at a million miles an hour. He took in every move she made and every breath she took.

�How have I never noticed her hair? It looks so�.strange, shiny, probably soft�I can smell it from here, all flowers and electricity�Probably from her guns.� He mused, depositing his bag of armor by the door.

�So Garrus, this is going to be pretty tight.� Isabelle started, voice light, eyes direct and teasing.

�Uh�Yeah�I guess if all else fails we can just wrestle.� He retorted before his brain caught up with him and how it sounded, with him here in her bedroom. Mentally groaning, Garrus waited for the Commander to make a comment, when she didn�t he looked at her - failing completely to stop a growl from ripping through his body and out of his mouth.

There she was, on her knees, stowing still dirty armor under her bed of all places. A pert bottom wiggled at him with each move- as Shepard was seemingly unable to just stow the suit in one sweep. Each piece was carefully extracted from the pack and then slipped beneath the bed, causing her to bend over further, bottom wiggling in a near obscene manner at the turian.

�What the hell are you doing Shepard?�

Looking up with wide, innocent - too innocent- eyes the Commander answers, �Stowing my shit? When did that become against the rules?�

�Under your bed?�

�Where else would you put it, I don�t want my locker dirty and there isn�t a whole lot of room to put this stuff anywhere else�.So I figured this was the best place to put it, I mean it�s a tight fit�.�

Garrus didn�t even let her finish the sentence - he pounced. Tackling her to the ground, wrists pinned neatly in one of his larger hands, Garrus hovered over her.

�Thank God, I thought I was going to have to strip for him to get the point.�

Isabelle bucked instinctively, having never truly liked being at the mercy of another. It was a rather poor attempt to dislodge the turian on top of her however, his eyes were like magnets, drawing all her focus, even the breath from her lungs as they just�watched each other.

Neither noticed that they were moving closer, Isabelle craning her head up, struggling slightly against his hold on her, Garrus leaning down, taking in her soft and feminine scent. Before Garrus knew it, he had his face buried in the Commander�s neck, nuzzling, taking deep breaths of her scent and marveling at it.

�So sweet, completely female and not all submissive�Dominant�Mate�.�

Isabelle blinked, the haze induced from just looking at Garrus dissipating, leaving her to wiggle and bite back a moan as his rough skin brushed repeatedly over her neck. It felt divine! Why hadn�t she thought to rile him like this sooner?

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Foreheads touch gently, smiles bloom across each face in their own way before Isabelle leans up and presses her soft lips to Garrus� hard mouth plates. It feels�decedent, like the softest silk brushing over his skin. When she pulls away, he mourns the loss of her lips, dipping his head, following them blindly. Barely allowing a soft giggle to escape to the air; Garrus presses his mouth to hers again- pulling back a little when her wet tongue pokes a him.

�Shep-�

�Izzy� She cuts him off with a smile.

�Izzy� He agrees, just as Shepard surges forward and takes claim of his mouth, tongue slipping between lips and sharp teeth to stroke at it�s counter part.

The feeling is quite alien to Garrus - Turian�s don�t do this sort of thing. Sharing saliva in this fashion was - gross- at least before Izzy Shepard came around. Tenatively he moves his tongue along her�s mimicking movements, emboldened by a soft moan travels from Isabelle. They kiss like this until the Commander can no longer breath steadily, pulling away reluctantly to gulp at the air, eyes bright, face flush, soft breasts pushing at Garrus� chest with each breath.

�Prehensil and forked tongue - I like it� She breaths, lips curling into a devilish smile between breaths. Pleased, Garrus catchs himself preening at her obvious pleasure from a simple kiss before taking control of her mouth again.

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Isabelle was enjoying her self. Being pressed against Garrus was so different, he was all hard edges and strength, nothing soft about him except his personality - and recently even that had hardened.

But making out like two randy teenagers wasn�t precisely what they were supposed to do. Planting her feet on either side of Garrus hips - earning her a strangled growl, she bucked hard, sending the unsuspecting male tumbling to the side. Following, she landed on top of him, giving a firm head butt before rolling away and taking up a crouching stance at the end of her bed.

Garrus lay dazed for all of a second before adrenaline and every battle-mate instinct bred into his species surged in his blood. Rolling and croushing mimicking the renegade spectre he�d come to be entranced with. Both waited, staring the other down and suddenly , Shepard sprang with a low growl. She wasn�t armored like he was, no talons - what was she doing?

Isabelle was caught easily and slamed into her armoir, held loose by his talons around her neck, she punched him straight in the face. To her surprise he only snarled in her face and turned her head to the side. Stepping close, Garrus was as close to her as he could be without them actually having sex.

�This is going to hurt..� He rumbled in a sing song way and then bit down with lighting speed on her neck. She yelped - couldn�t help it, his teeth were fucking sharp, and it stung!

The yelp from his newly marked mate, calmed Garrus somewhat, urging him to lick almost apologetically at the wound, so clear and prominent on Shepard�s neck. As he did so, a pleased rumble started in his chest and talons that had previously held her in place, now explored her back and sides.

�What the Fuck was that Vakarian?� Isabelle demanded breathlessly, all the fight taken from her, pleasure sparks running up and down every cell of her body now.

�You�re Mine now Shepard�Mine�

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Of Spars and Tiebreakers