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Never Again	By : ArcadiaJones Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 5322 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or ideas of Mass Effect. They belong to Bioware, and I am making no money writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
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Author’s Note: All right, so just a quick little detail on this story: I wanted to write a story that went through the entirety of a Shepard/Garrus relationship, starting with the first game and going through the end of the second. That being said, I will be focusing everything on those two, and thus a lot of the Mass Effect storyline will be overlooked (such as comrade missions, etc. in the second game). I’ll do my best to give everyone their say—though you will notice a large lack of a few characters that I never really liked—but this story is for Garrus.

No matter how this ends up, I hope you enjoy the read!

One

He could remember every moment he had ever spent with her, from their first meeting on the Citadel—watching her throw her weight, unafraid of anything—to all the nights they had spent on the Normandy SR-1, getting to know one another. They had started as teammates bonded through necessity and mutual gain: they both wanted Saren dead. But that connection had deepened, until he found himself calling her his friend—best friend, even.

Shepard was always there with the sound advice, the comforting shoulder, the wry joke. He found it odd at first that she always wanted to talk to him; after all, how much could an ex-C-Sec officer and a Spectre have in common? How much could a turian and a human share, except for a past of bloody conflict and constant aggression? It didn’t make any sense to him, and he tried to dissuade her from coming down to see him, but to no avail. No matter how vague or cold he might act, she would always show up again.

It didn’t take long before he began looking forward to her visits; when she didn’t visit, he would sometimes leave the security of the hold to find her. He had spent many nights in her cramped quarters, sharing a bottle of wine or talking about some facet of turian culture that she was interested in. It didn’t really matter what they were talking about, just so long as they were close.

Now he stood in front of her cabin door, on the eve of what might easily prove to be their last night alive. Ilos waited just over the horizon, and Garrus Vakarian was just coming to terms with how he felt. Thinking about it made him feel foolish; after all, it was a given that turian/human relationships couldn’t work if only for the allergic reactions the two species could ignite in the other. But still he found himself drawn here, distantly wondering what it would feel like to hold the fiery redhead in his arms. To feel her beneath him.

Mustering his courage, Garrus knocked on the door. A moment later, the metal frame swished open and there she stood, clad in a pair of loose pants and a tank-top. It was the most informal he had ever seen her dressed, and it was turning him on. Shepard looked up at him, a smile breaking across her strong features.

“What’s up, Garrus?” she asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

The way her clothes hugged her figure…

“Erm, can we talk?” Garrus began thinking of anything and everything that would calm the fire raging in his stomach.

Nodding, Shepard swept her arm out in a gesture that invited him inside. He accepted the invitation gratefully, stepping inside while she closed the door. He had been in this room a million times, so why was it that this time he felt so out of place? Noticing his awkwardness, Shepard ushered him into a chair.

“Take a load off, buddy,” she said. “You look stressed. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, we will be arriving at Ilos soon,” he reminded her, lowering himself into the offered seat. “Maybe I’m just worried about the mission?”

Shepard snorted derisively. “If that were the truth, you would come out and say so. You seem nervous about something, and since I know you’re no coward, I’m guessing that it has nothing to do with the upcoming confrontation. I’m listening if you’d like to get this weight off your chest.”

Weight off his chest, indeed…this shirt was beginning to feel a little cumbersome. It had seemed so easy, planning what he would say in the elevator. Walk in, take her in your arms, and profess your feelings. Simple as that! But of course, when it came to reality, things were never that easy. With her green eyes watching him, he couldn’t remember how to speak. Didn’t even know if he could speak anymore. All he could do was stare dumbly at her, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

Shepard watched him closely, trying to read him. She had come to know the turian well since they had started working together, and thus she knew it wasn’t like him to act so awkward. Normally they talked so easily with one another, so why…

It dawned on her. The way he couldn’t meet her gaze, the constant fidgeting, the darker blue tinting the scales of his cheeks… Garrus hadn’t come here to talk; he had come here to confess.

She had been going through her own self-evaluation of her feelings, and Shepard knew that there was a very large part of her that wanted Garrus in a much more intimate way. For the sake of their friendship, she had not pursued her feelings any further than taking the simple pleasures of talking with him, being close to him whether it was down in the cargo hold or in her cabin. But now Garrus was showing a side of himself she had not thought to see; if her feelings were reciprocated…then it was possible that she could finally rid herself of the painful heat that constantly burned in her gut every time she saw him.

Garrus was still ruminating over an answer when Shepard suddenly stood and walked over to him, leaning over his chair so that their faces were mere inches apart. His eyes widened in shock, knees trembling as her scent—that heady mix of warrior and woman—washed over him in intoxicating waves. If she kept this up, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his hands from touching her.

“Shepard…what…?” he tried to scoot backwards, but she just followed him, green eyes boring into his soul.

Words were useless now; the only way Shepard could make herself understood was through action. It was the same way they had met, and the same way they had connected through every mission, working in perfect harmony. And so she silenced his sputtering by pressing her lips against the smooth scales of his mouth. Shepard hadn’t been sure how kissing an armored species like a turian would work, but he seemed to respond to her touch—taloned hands resting themselves on her narrow hips.

She pressed her tongue against his mouth, willing him to open up. Garrus complied uncertainly, then gasped as her soft pink tongue entered him, rubbing up against his own twitching tongue before exploring further. His taste was exotic, as she had expected; a mix of sharp spices and musk. Shepard had kissed plenty of men in her day, but none of them compared to the flavor of her turian.

Garrus was speechless; it was much this same scenario he had hoped to enact while journeying to her cabin, but never had he believed it would actually happen. His hands stroked the taut muscles of her sides beneath her shirt, a part of him wishing that he could just tear the offending piece of cloth away. But he still wasn’t sure what to do with what she was offering, and wasn’t sure if she really wanted to take it any farther. Besides, there was always that pesky allergy-thing to take into consideration. He could already feel his mouth beginning to swell, and finally he forced himself to break away though his groin screamed at him for an idiot.

“Shepard…we can’t…” His breath came out in short, rough pants—hands trembling as he held her away. Looking up at her, Garrus cursed himself. The soft flesh around her lips was already beginning to turn a light red, the lips swelling up slightly.

“We can do whatever we damn well please, soldier,” she growled, fighting to get closer.

“No, we can’t!” he said more forcefully, tightening his grip. “There’s a reason that you don’t see many turian and human relationships.”

Shepard cocked a curious eyebrow at him, and he sighed. “Go look in the mirror.”

She obeyed, making her way over to the bathroom. When she returned a moment later, she did not try to jump him again, even though the hungry look had not left her eyes. Shepard stared down at him like a predator, and it turned him on in a way he had not thought possible.

“I can handle it,” she stated firmly, taking a step closer. “And you can wear a condom.” Another step. “I’m not afraid, Garrus.” She was right over him now, her breath low and ragged. “So what are you waiting for?”

Garrus didn’t know how he managed it with the fire now raging in his pants, but he still managed not to reach up and crush her to him. But spirits how he needed to. He could die tomorrow if only he held her in his arms right now. And yet still doubt plagued him; if the worst came to pass, then there was the possibility that Saren could succeed because the Commander sworn to defeat him had been laid up by anaphylactic shock through…ingestion…

Clearing his throat, Garrus swiftly stood and danced out of her path, turning his back to her so that that look in her eyes wouldn’t make him change his mind. He didn’t see the hunger turn to hurt as Shepard stared at his back, heart heavy and pride bruised. She had earnestly believed that he felt the same way, but now he was letting logic get in the way. Or perhaps it was a social pressure type of thing. Xenophilia was certainly not a widely accepted trait within humanity, and she could only imagine what turian society thought about such relationships—especially with a human, considering their two species’ dotted past. She had hoped that such trivial considerations wouldn’t interfere…but looking at his back, she realized how wrong she had been.

And now she was left standing alone—looking like a fool—for throwing her cards on the table before knowing all the facts.

“I’m sorry, Garrus,” she murmured. “I thought…I thought that I knew what you came here for, but apparently I was wrong. Please, just…forget this ever happened.”

He whirled around, finally realizing what his refusal had done to the woman he most respected. Before he could think about what he was doing, Garrus was standing in front of her once more, his hands on her shoulders.

“Shepard, no! It’s not like that! I just…there’s so much at stake here, with Saren and Sovereign, that I don’t think we should be taking the risk. I came up here because…well, because I was being a fool. I wanted to tell you…that…that…” The words dried up in his throat. Truly, Garrus wasn’t sure if what he felt was truly love, or just a manifestation of the respect he had for her as a leader in addition to his own “blue balls.” It had been a long time…and Garrus was afraid that perhaps his attraction was only a temporary lust; and when it was over, would everything they had built be ruined?

He sighed, hands falling away from her shoulders as he took a step back. “I came here to see if there was anything you needed before we reach Ilos.”

It was pathetic, but it was the best he could do. Garrus tried not to look at the pained expression she couldn’t quite hide, hating himself for doing this to her. But it had to be done. Spirits, he was a fool for coming here.

“All preparations have been taken care of,” Shepard replied mechanically. “I suggest you get some rest before we reach Ilos. Dismissed.”

“Shepard—“

“I said dismissed.” The cold glare in her eyes was enough to tear his heart apart. Bowing his head, Garrus obeyed, heading back for the elevator. He took one last look back before the doors to her cabin closed, despairing at the barely-concealed pain that ran along the tense line of her shoulders. Her back was to him, but Garrus could imagine what her face must look like. Finally, the doors of the elevator shut him off, and he was descending into the dark.

Shepard waited for the elevator to begin its journey down before she allowed the full brunt of her emotions to overtake her. With a sob, she crashed to her knees, burying her face in her hands. It was so stupid to cry like a teenage girl whose boyfriend just dumped her, but she couldn’t help it. Shepard had been hiding her feelings for the turian for so long, that when she had finally laid them out on the table only to be rejected, it was too much. Her heart was aching; at the same time, her lust was aching as well. Being so close to him, tasting him…that alone had nearly been enough to drive her over the edge.

There was still time before they reached Ilos, and Shepard was now determined to spend the last of that time with herself in the shower. She paused only long enough to make sure that her cabin door was locked, and then headed into the bathroom.
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Never Again