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In Sight	By : CyberII Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 6133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Mass Effect or characters, writing for fun, but not profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Pt.1
- 2-Pt.2
- 3-Pt.3
- 4-Fin.
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She reached up for his long neck, embracing it, pulling him down, standing on her tiptoes, capturing his mouthplates with her lips. The alien, yet so arousing hotness of his muscular tongue entered her mouth, her head started to spin and she clung onto the angles of his armor just hoping not to swoon right there.

She felt his hands moving gingerly on her back and closed her eyes. His tongue slid along her jaw to the spot behind her ear, so sensitive when exposed to this inhuman heat; it made her gasp, feeling the familiar electric spark between her legs.

“We have different paths, which have to diverge soon,” she spoke in a small voice, tracing the scales on his neck, “But they hurled us together at some point. And I’m not going to waste the rest of time with you thinking of us parting. Not when you’re still here.”

His strong arms embraced her. Garrus sat on the edge of her desk, dipping his face into her dark hair.

“Humans are weird,” he hummed finally, his breath tickling her scalp, “First you say the things you don’t want to feel or believe out loud, then – something contradicting your previous track of thoughts, and finally you do something utterly irrelevant. What am I supposed to do – completely ignore what your mouth says and study your body language better?”

“Look who’s talking,” she narrowed her eyes playfully, “Turians are so withdrawn I doubt I could ever drag anything out of you without help of a space hauler.”

“I’m not, ah, confusing anyone with misleading statements, just tend to prepare to the worst outcome,” he nuzzled her ear, “Besides, suicide missions aren’t the best time for romance. However, considering my life style, it’s probably the best chance I ever get. Even if the Reapers threat becomes history, I can’t think of myself settling down to some mundane work and stable relationship… I’m not a very good turian, I think.”

“You can never tell,” Miranda gave him a reassuring smile, “Also, you’re not a stereotypical turian. That makes you the best turian I’ve ever met, keeping in mind most of the turians I’ve met were stuck-up assholes.”

“Hey, that bunch of stuck-up assholes still are my people, have some respect,” he laughed heartily, the light flanging sounded so relaxed and relaxing. It was hard not to love his voice; she wondered how it would sound outside of the translator. The real voice of Archangel… damn, it sounded sexy already.

“Now, when our mission is complete I feel sorry for all the time I was too busy being a bitch,” she looked into his radiant eyes; he smirked with a small jerk of mandibles, “I’d love to know you better, maybe I could use that time to try. Shepard won’t call you his best friend for nothing.”

“Well, I wasn’t the friendliest person most of the time either, especially towards Cerberus,” the turian tilted his head, “I guess there’s my fault too.”

She slid the tips of her fingers under his heavy armor, “Can you take it off? I want to feel you in my arms, not your chestplate.”

“Mmm, only if you’re fully aware of possible consequences,“ he purred with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “Of, you know, undressing and, ah, touching an adult turian man who’d been through a lot of stress recently and not enough ways to, ah, blow off steam…”

“The way you say it makes me want to deal with the consequences like never before,“ she traced the sharp edges of his armor. He took her hand and guided it to the clasps.

“Here… And here… Aaand here…”

“Now I will know how to undress a turian,“ Miranda snickered when he lifted the cowl piece from his shoulders.

“Not really. The most obstructive part is still on,” He looked down at her, icy-blue eyes filled with cockiness. “You think you’ll need these skills in the future?”

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his warm taut body, feeling the rough plates beneath the underarmor suit.

“I highly hope so.”

She felt him exhale sharply, his heartbeat so heavy underneath his plating.

“I’d love to know you too. Sex with you was so… different and exotic. And I’ve never had a human fetish, nor even considered inter-species affair before.”

“You seemed pretty confident about what you were doing,” she nudged him.

“Ah, I don’t know… Just like you said, stress, hormones, instinct kicked in response to your arousal. I’ve never though the biology works this way… between species. I mean, it shouldn’t… But at least your species use the same ‘insert tab A into slot B’ scheme for mating,” Garrus made an uncertain shoulder gesture, probably something similar to a shrug. “Maybe I was restraining myself too hard. After the anger burst out, the rest just came out like a snowball…”

“Mmm, that means I took your cross-species virginity?” the woman shot him a flirtatious glance. He chuckled smugly.

“As well as I took yours.”

“Hm, it was damn good for sex between two virgins,” she let her palm caress his broad chest, all sharp angles of plating. “You are a fantastic… lover, Vakarian.”

She almost tripped over that word – what they did, it had nothing to do with love.

“Yeah, uhm, thanks. And I’ve learned that you humans use more than just ‘slot B’ for ‘tab A’. That was… groundbreaking,” his eyes turned dreamy, apparently reminiscent.

Miranda giggled, noticing his beatific toothy smile. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against the plates on his chest in a catlike motion, swaying her hips slowly – her palm slid under his ribcage on his flat stomach, rubbing it, trying to get lower under his codpiece of armor.

“It looks like someone wants to get some more of ‘alternative slots treatment’,” she teased him.

He bent slightly down to look her straight in the eye.

“Oh, Miri, what are you doing to a poor turian guy stuck on a vessel with no females of his own species?” he all but groaned, his eyes lighting up with a new intensity.

Next moment their mouths met again; she didn’t realize who the first one to lean closer was, yet it didn’t matter anymore. Much to her surprise she felt his hands landing on her buttocks, grabbing them to press their bodies tighter. She moaned into his mouth, her mind going hazy as she gave into his intoxicating alien kiss.

His grip on her ass hardened, he lifted her from the ground to the same level with his height. She squeezed his waist with her legs, knees placed on her desk behind his back.

“Making sure no female of his species steals that gorgeous guy,” she murmured, kissing him again quickly and then turning his head to the side for her lips to caress his tender spot underneath the jaw. She felt him open up his vulnerable throat for her by throwing his head back and to the right, lifting his chin to provide a better access.

“It’s not fair,” there was unmistakable smug lilt in his duotone voice, “And selfish of you…”

“Of course it is not fair,” Miranda flicked her tongue between the scales on his suede skin, “I’m perfect, and they’re way out of my league. And since I’m perfect, I have my right to choose the best.”

It was so much easier to think it all was just about stress, tension and lust. At least that was familiar for Garrus. Most of his intimate encounters with women were about it. Some were more than one-nighters, but stayed within the confines of casualness, comfortable for both. It had been always spoken clearly by vocal subtext; if both sides found it agreeable – they have no misunderstandings.

But that was with turian women he spoke the same language with.

And now he was confused. This human woman kept giving him mixed messages, and the flat translation of her voice couldn’t give him a mere hint of her emotions or intentions. Garrus learned humans were very unclear about what’s on their mind; and not only when they lied intentionally. It was their muddle-headed way of thinking; their emotions could betray them sometimes, seeping out, but they weren’t sure about most of the things most of the time. Especially concerning relationships of all kind.

And what was even worse – she obviously didn’t understand him completely. He knew the translators cut most over- and undertones of turian language for the convenience; and now he felt helpless as if he suddenly turned mute.

Garrus wondered how many things he voiced were cut off, so Miranda told it’s impossible to drag something out of him…

But still she was with him, touching him in such gentle and exquisite way no turian woman ever did if only could. At least she wanted him for sex, it was stated pretty clear. And it was fine with him.

It also petted his ego that, taking account of her perfection, arrogance and sexual inventiveness, she was pretty easy to impress. Was it her unlucky with men, or human men being no match to turian – she just called him ‘the best’. He was perfectly fine with it as well.

He closed his eyes, pressing her soft alien body to his chest, yet she didn’t seem to mind their differences. On the contrary, she clung to him even tighter, leaving cool but so delicate touches of her mouth on his neck. Turian sex wasn’t necessarily that rough as stereotypically believed – sure, if both partners wanted it brutal and wild, their specific traits allowed them to go far beyond the other species’ definition of ‘rough’. At the same time, with their metal-armored bodies, razor-sharp teeth and lethal talons they had to learn to be extra careful around their few sensitive areas. Otherwise any intercourse could end up with one or both partners bleeding to death. No race with such probability would exist long enough.

Garrus smirked inwardly on the thought of absurdity of popular misbelieves. Speaking of teeth.

“Deal. You do this, ah, amazing thing with your mouth, and I’ll show you… something we hadn’t time to try yet.”

The woman snickered, looking at him with a mischievous twinkle.

“Oh, Vakarian, you could make a blowjob request sound alien. Yet intriguing…”

“I should remember how it’s called,” he rubbed his cheekplate against her, smelling the pheromones emanating from her fair skin. He should ask Mordin somehow, how the pheromones of levoamino-based species could affect dextro, as well as vice versa. On the other hand the nosey salarian won’t spare him a lecture which would probably sound horribly clinical.

“So you think you’re going to need this in the future?” Miranda laughed. He felt like he just heard something in her voice, hiding behind the bitterness – something that sounded like… hope? He wasn’t sure though, human speech tones were entirely different, and he was no expert.

“Expecting the worst has its advantages. There’s always a slight chance of pleasant surprises,” he tried to match her tone.
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In Sight