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Blackwork	By : PestoMonkey Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 11593 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Shepard sat in her quarters, still in her uniform, grungy with the dust of the Krogan homeworld and staring at the deep amber liquid in the bottom of the glass. She knew there would be sacrifices to be able to gain an advantage over the Reapers. She felt like an idiot that she'd subconsciously assumed the sacrifices wouldn't hit so close to home. Not that any sacrifice was really justified, but she understood that war had a price. She knew that. So why did it still hurt so much when her close friends were numbered among the casualties? Maybe the question held the answer... they were just a number now; just another casualty of war. But at least she knew otherwise. She and her crew knew what their sacrifices really meant. For the first time she felt grateful to have Allers on board the Normandy. At the very least she could make sure the rest of the galaxy was aware of what had happened, too.
She'd been back in her quarters for about an hour after her team had returned from their extended mission on Tuchanka. Mordin... and the Turian Primarch's son... it broke her heart that two so noble individuals had been wiped out of existence in the pursuit of a very likely futile endeavor. Curing the genophage was a feat in itself, but what would it mean ultimately if the Reapers prevailed?
But she couldn't think like that. She had to believe they would win. Otherwise all the sacrifices would have been in vain.
She swallowed the whiskey in one long gulp and poured herself another shot. James really does have good taste in liquor, she thought idly as she lifted the glass up and inhaled the rich aroma before taking a deep swallow.
The smell and taste of it brought her back to the night she'd spent with the muscular marine a week earlier. He had been a very nice distraction from the stresses of their mission, but he'd also become a friend since that night. At least she liked to think so. She realized she may have a skewed perspective of who on her crew were really "friends" considering she was their superior officer. But she believed he was one of the few now. He seemed unwaveringly loyal, and she had been relieved that he'd remained utterly professional towards her after their night of steamy sex.
If anything, her own behavior towards him was the biggest indicator that there was anything going on between them, and Steve had even told her as much when she'd visited the shuttle bay in between legs of their mission.
She'd stood chatting with the pilot for a few moments but had kept casting distracted glances over at James' station where he was in the process of giving his punching bag a run for its money.
"Commander..." Steve had ventured slowly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you might want to dial it down a notch. At least in public." He'd glanced over at James, then back to her. She'd stood speechless for a split second before saying, "Duly noted. Thanks, Lieutenant."
Steve smiled at her and said, "And off the record? I haven't seen Vega so energized since we left Earth... Whatever you did... keep doing it."
"Just... in private, of course," she'd finished. She got a little irritated at the implications, however. It was her ship, she could fraternize with her subordinate if she wanted. Who was anyone to say otherwise? But if it meant there was fallout for James... maybe Steve was right. She didn't want to make his life harder just because she wanted to sleep with him.
But they hadn't since. Things had been just a little hectic since that night. They'd arrived on Tuchanka late the next day and she'd been solidly absorbed with their missions for the next seven days. James had been beside her every step of the way, but they'd never gotten a chance to stop and talk privately. The most she'd gotten was a few "Lolas" here and there, in a particularly interesting tone that she'd never heard from him before, and every time he said it she got wet, even if they were in the middle of a firefight.
The whiskey finally started seeping into her bones, turning them elastic. She sat back on the sofa and sighed softly, but her thoughts returned to Mordin and Victus and she gripped her empty glass hard in frustration. The emotions she thought had finally subsided welled up in her again. It wasn't okay that they'd had to die this way. In what universe was that okay?
"Fuck!" she yelled, and stood abruptly, throwing the glass against the bulkhead across the room. It shattered with a gratifying explosion, shards scattering and settling to the ground. She crunched over the broken glass in her boots, scowling fiercely, and began stripping off her gear, throwing her garments to the floor as she went.
The comm at her door beeped when she was halfway to the lavatory and she shot a harsh "What!" at it as she began pulling off her fatigues. She cursed when she realized she needed to remove her boots first. She sat down on her desk chair with her pants bunched halfway down her legs and attempted to remedy the problem.
A disembodied voice came through the speaker, "Commander... do you have a minute?"
James? She thought, his deep voice throwing a cool blanket over her earlier rage.
"Uh... come in," she said and the door to her quarters wooshed open, displaying his bulky form.
He stepped in and stood watching her for a moment from the entryway as she struggled drunkenly with the laces of her boots.
He let out an amused snort. "Need help with that, Lola?"
"Fuck you."
"Happy to oblige, but maybe when you aren't quite so hostile," he said with a smirk.
"What do you want, James?" she blurted out harshly, and mentally kicked herself for her tone.
James cleared his throat. "Well... the mission was kindof rough. I just wanted to make sure you were holding up okay, but I can leave you alone if that's what you want."
Her shoulders sagged and she gave up on her boots for the time being. She sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face, then sat forward with her elbows propped on her knees.
"Don't go," she said softly. "I could use someone sane to give me some perspective tonight."
He laughed. "And you think I'm the picture of sanity? You remember Mars, right?"
She looked at him then and took in his sturdy form where he stood leaning against her glowing aquarium, all hard muscle and tattoos. There was something intent in his eyes that she didn't recognize. At least not on him. It looked like… concern, or something. He cared about her, she realized. Fortunately she was just a little too drunk to contemplate the implications of that look.
He quirked an eyebrow at her as she sat staring at him.
"What?" she asked indignantly.
"Do you need help... finishing whatever you were doing?" he asked, gesturing at her current state of undress.
She looked down and realized in a slight daze that she was still sitting half dressed on her desk chair in her black sports bra and black cotton panties, with her fatigues bunched around her shins and her boots half unlaced.
"Uh... maybe? I can't really do the laces right now. Er... Undo the laces, I guess is what I mean." She laughed softly.
He smiled and shook his head as he stepped towards her, bending down to one knee and gripping her boot in his strong hands.
She sighed and sat back as he worked at the knots in her laces.
"I sure hope to fuck it means something in the end," she said abstractly.
He sat working on her boots for a second and said quietly, "Me too."
One boot came off, and then the other, and finally her pants were on the floor.
"Do you need help with the next part?" he asked, giving her an amused look.
"I think I can manage to bathe myself," she said with a laugh and sauntered into her bathroom, turning on the water of her shower.
"I'll be right here if you need me, Commander," he said with mock formality, leaning back against her desk and crossing his arms.
James watched as she pulled the pins out of her hair and the dark waves cascaded down her back, then she stripped off her underwear and bra and stepped beneath the steaming water of the shower. He'd had a hard-on since he'd seen her sitting half-dressed and struggling with her boots, but as he watched the water stream over her naked body it actually threatened to break out of his pants and make an escape.
Fuck, she's beautiful, he thought as he watched the dark tendrils of her hair become soaked with the hot water and fan out across the pale bare skin of her back. He hated Cerberus, but he had to admit they'd put one good thing into the world, and her name was Shepard. Back into the world, he amended.
She just stood under the water for the longest time, letting it beat down on her head and shoulders, her hands braced on the stainless steel walls of the small room. He heard her sigh softly and she turned her head to look at him over one wet shoulder, her blue eyes burning brightly and her full lips wet from the water streaming over her.
"James," she said in a husky voice, turning around and leaning against the wall underneath the stream of water. "I need you..."
Fuck me, she's beautiful, he thought again. He could barely contain himself, but simply smiled and stripped slowly while she watched through the fog of steam that drifted through the open doorway between them. He pulled his tight white t-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. He unbuckled his heavy belt and pulled it swiftly out of his belt loops, tossing it atop his discarded shirt. He bent down to untie his boots, pulling each off abruptly followed by his socks, then shimmied out of his fatigues, kicking them haphazardly to the side. He saw her raise an eyebrow at his snug boxers and slowly pushed the undergarment over his muscular hips, letting his erection spring free at the last second.
He didn't miss it when she smiled in appreciation and her tongue darted out to lick her lips as his shorts came off. He felt a soft throb in his groin at her reaction, which grew exponentially when she slowly turned around again and looked back over her shoulder at him.
"Damn, Lola," he growled under his breath and closed his eyes for a beat to gain control of himself.
He stepped into the room and the door whooshed closed behind him, trapping him in the small, steam-filled enclosure with her. He stood beneath the water behind her for a second, tilting his head under the hot stream and letting it wet his head and run down over his hard muscles. When he opened his eyes he saw her hand reaching towards him over one shoulder with a small bottle gripped in it, its opening aimed down. He held out his hand and she squirted a measure of clear gel into his palm. The scent of almonds drifted to his nostrils and he felt his erection twitch in response. It smelled deliciously of her and he breathed the aroma in deeply.
He lathered the soap between his palms and slid soapy hands down her spine, then up the front of her torso from belly to shoulders, lingering over her breasts for a second, then down her back again and across her ass cheeks. He heard her moan softly when his hands slid over her ass and his fingertips slid between her cheeks briefly, grazing against slick, sensitive skin.
He slipped his hands back around her hips, pulling her against him and drifting his lips along the side of her wet neck. "You are so beautiful," he said to her in a rough voice. His hands slid back up her soapy torso and drifted over her full breasts.
She moaned as she felt his hands teasing the hard tips of her breasts, the slick feeling of the soap magnifying the sensation of his touch.
"That feels nice," she said, her voice trailing off strangely. Her tone caused him to hesitate briefly, his hands pausing and sliding back down to her hips.
"Um... do I need to do something different?" he asked.
"I need you to fuck me, Lieutenant, not toy with me," she said almost angrily. Her suddenly commanding tone pissed him off just a little bit and he pulled back from her, then grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him.
He saw the look of burning desire in her eyes then and knew this was what she'd needed all along. For her, he would do anything.
"You want to get fucked, is that it, Commander?" he said in a biting tone.
She met his gaze and nodded with parted lips. He gripped the back of her neck, pulling her wet face to his and kissed her savagely. He shoved her against the wet stainless steel wall of her shower hard enough to make her gasp and pressed himself against her, his erection digging into the soft flesh of her belly. She looked surprised at first but then a wicked little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
He looked at her and shook his head slightly with a small, amused smile before continuing with the charade. Who was he to argue if this is how she wanted it? He pressed his lips against hers again almost painfully then nipped at her lower lip with his teeth. He bent his head and grazed his teeth along the side of her neck, sinking them in deeper when he reached the juncture of her shoulder. She tilted her head back and moaned softly.
He slid both large hands down over her slick, wet hips and squeezed her backside, then slid his hands lower, digging his strong fingers into the backs of her thighs and forcing her legs up and apart, spreading her open and pressing her harder into the wall. He felt her legs wrap around his hips automatically and her arms went around his shoulders, her short fingernails digging into the back of his neck.
He entered her abruptly and violently and she gasped in surprise as his thick, hard length filled her and he began pounding into her.
Once he'd crossed that barrier he knew there was nothing he could do to stop. The feel of her around him was so exquisite. But it wasn't just the feel of being buried deep in her hot, wet center that did him in. The wet skin of her breasts pressed against his chest and the tightness of her strong legs wrapped around his hips made him feel like his head would explode in pleasure. But when she started egging him on with harsh whispers he knew he was done for.
He came hard at her urging and clamped his lips over hers, silencing her goading words as he spasmed inside her. His lips lingered against hers as his orgasm gradually subsided. He lowered his head and rested his forehead against her shoulder, the only sounds their heavy breathing and the steady jet of the shower.
"What the hell was that all about, Lola?" he whispered. She released his hips and he slipped out of her, still bracing himself against the wall.
"Just proof that you're good at following orders, James," she said and gripped him by the back of the neck, pulling his mouth back down to hers and kissing him fervently.
He realized abruptly from her kiss that she wasn't finished yet and pulled back from her with a smile. Fucking her was nice, but this was the part he really looked forward to. He reached for her body wash and squirted a generous amount into his palm, lathering up his hands. He knelt before her and started working the soap up her legs slowly. He massaged the muscles of her calves gently and slid his soapy hands up her thighs, lathering the front and then the back of each one in turn. His hands slid to her inner thighs teasingly but drifted back down again before slipping around to her backside, then back over her hips. His thumbs delicately drifted over the vee of black curls between her thighs and he heard her breath hitch.
He glanced up at her and his own breath caught in his throat at the raw desire he saw in her eyes. He slid his thumbs softly along the junctures of her inner thighs, moving them slowly closer to her center. He watched her face as his thumbs caressed her outer folds and then spread them apart, allowing the hot water to stream over the delicate flesh of her sex. Her eyelids drifted closed and her lips parted with a husky moan when he grazed the small nub at her core with the tip of his thumb.
His eyes returned to his task and he leaned in, darting his tongue out and swirling it around the small bundle of nerves before him before capturing it gently between his lips. She moaned louder and tilted her hips toward his mouth. One of her hands drifted to her breast and clutched it while the other fell to his head, gently pulling him closer to her.
He gripped one of her legs behind the knee and urged her foot up to his shoulder, then went to work with his tongue. He began with slow, languid strokes, plunging his tongue deep inside her. He realized he could taste the remnants of his own orgasm mixed with her tangy flavor and the thought made him instantly hard again. The motions of his tongue became more insistent, flicking and swirling at the top of her sex. Her hips undulated gently in rhythm with his mouth and he heard her breathy moans increase in frequency and volume.
She gripped his head tighter to her and his tongue sped up in response, sending her over the edge with a harsh yell of his name. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing that particular sound coming from her.
Wasting no time, he lowered her leg from his shoulder and stood up. She gasped in dazed confusion as he spun her around and bent her over, forcing her to place a hand on the wall to brace herself. He spread her thighs wide and entered her from behind with a swift thrust, gripping her hips tightly in his hands and hammering into her with desperate need. After several thrusts he felt her fingers graze the delicate skin of his balls and realized that she was working herself to orgasm again. He lost it completely and with a series of violent thrusts and a loud groan his orgasm took him. At the same time, he felt her muscles clench tightly around him as she came again with a loud cry of ecstasy.
She stood quivering and gasping for breath under the streaming water, both hands braced against the wall but unable to move for fear she'd collapse into a puddle. James' strong grip on her hips was apparently the only thing holding her up. She felt his hips make a subtle little twist and moaned at the pleasant friction it caused between them. She sighed softly as she felt him pull out of her slowly and step back. She found the strength to stand and reached for a washcloth, applied a small amount of soap, and washed gently between her thighs, enjoying the throbbing tenderness he'd left her with.
She tilted her head up to look at him and saw him through the steam leaning against the wall with his head tilted back, watching her from beneath lowered lashes. She rinsed the washcloth and offered it to him. He stepped back under the water and took it from her, washing himself briskly as she stood back and quickly lathered up her hair. He followed suit afterwards, scrubbing his own head in a businesslike fashion.
"All set?" she asked softly after they had both rinsed the remaining suds off. She turned the water off after his nod, then grabbed two dry towels from the shelf across the room and tossed him one. He dried off swiftly and wrapped the length of soft, white terrycloth around his hips before exiting the room. She dried off and slipped into a short silk robe, twisting her wet hair up into the towel before following behind him.
She saw him take the steps down towards her bed and began to call out to him, "Watch out…"
"Shit!" he yelled out, stopping abruptly. She winced as he bent down and lifted one foot, gingerly pulling out a small shard of glass that had embedded itself in his sole.
"... for the glass," she finished. "Sorry about that... I didn't have a chance to clean it up before you got here."
He limped over to a nearby chair and sat, propping his foot on the opposite knee and inspecting the damage. She punched a button on the wall, summoning the small cleaning mech from a cubbyhole beneath the steps, then quickly grabbed a first aid kit from her desk and went to him, navigating carefully around the broken glass and sitting on the coffee table across from him. The little mech whirred quietly as it made its circuit of the room, sucking up the shards efficiently as it went.
"Let's see the damage," she said and gestured a hand to him.
"It's just another scar to add to my collection," he said with a laugh and sat back in his chair as she looked with concern at the small, bleeding cut on his foot. She cleaned it and applied a small bandage.
"I think you'll live, soldier," she said with a smirk and glanced up at him. He was looking at her with an amused smile and she raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
"You're cute when you're worried, Lola," he said.
She rolled her eyes at him and stood up, pulling the towel from her head and walking back up to the bathroom. He turned to watch her as she retrieved a comb and pulled it through her wet hair.
"Whiskey?" he asked and reached for the bottle and a glass.
She shook her head. "Nah, I think I'm done for tonight. I'd just end up breaking more things. I should have called you to begin with, James. You were a much better pick-me-up."
"I'm a man of many talents," he said with a grin as he poured himself a drink and recorked the bottle.
"That you are," she agreed, smiling back and bending to retrieve their discarded garments, giving him a nice peak at her ass beneath her skimpy robe. He took a sip of the strong liquor and sat back, enjoying watching her just move around.
Finally he decided to take a chance and asked, "So, do you feel like sharing why you felt like breaking things? I mean, if you hated the whiskey you could have just told me. I wouldn't have been offended."
She tensed visibly and looked at him, then just shrugged and sighed, defeated.
"Mordin was a friend," she said finally.
James nodded, "Yeah, I heard he was part of your team when you took out the Collector base. He seemed pretty badass. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to get to know him."
She let out a rueful little laugh, "He was a badass to the very end. I suppose I should be grateful to have considered him a friend."
She carried James' clothes over and set them on the chair by the bed, then sat down on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. She sighed in frustration.
"He wasn't even the first... and I know he won't be the last. But he still felt like part of my team, and..." she gave James a helpless look that surprised him coming from her. She'd always seemed so unshakeable when they were out on missions; so determined and confident in her abilities and her decisions. He'd never had any qualms about following her into battle, and it wasn't just because of how nicely she filled out her armor.
"And... you still felt responsible for him as though he were following your orders," James finished for her.
She nodded and reached for the whiskey bottle, uncorking it and looking for another glass. When she realized James was holding the only one that wasn't broken she chuckled softly and lifted the bottle in a toast.
"To Mordin and Thane. To old teammates, dead and living."
James held his glass up in response and they both drank.
After he swallowed he looked at her and said, "None of us are going into this blind, Lola. Mordin knew the risks, and he knew what was at stake. You know I'll do whatever it takes to get this done, too. But you already have us all trumped in the death department."
"It's not a fucking contest, James," she snapped. "And Cerberus won't swoop in and resurrect the rest of you. Not that you'd want them to. Shit, if I'd been given a choice, I might have opted to stay dead."
He gave her a wounded look and said, "Don't talk like that. You being here is probably the only thing that's giving us a fighting chance in this war."
"Being around me is hazardous to your health," she said sulkily and stared at the bandage on the bottom of the foot he had propped on the coffee table.
"No offense, Lola, but I think I'll take my chances."
She looked at him with a resigned shake of her head and took another swig from the bottle in her hand. They sat in silence for several moments.
Finally she asked quietly, "Are you staying tonight?"
He looked at her with an expression of mock hurt, "You wouldn't kick an injured man out in the cold, would you?"
She laughed, "No, but I can't promise there won't be some serious risks to spending the night."
She stood up and set the bottle down, then slinked over to him. He met her eyes and was surprised to see the heat lurking behind them. Again? he thought.
"Damn, Lola, I don't know if I have it in me after earlier," he said with a slow shake of his head. But when she settled down on her knees before him and slid her hands up his thighs under his towel, his body told him otherwise. One of said risks clearly included exhaustion, but honestly he wouldn't have it any other way.
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Blackwork