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The Auction Where Everyone Wins	By : Mayamahal Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 3868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, just Tanith and the smut. I don't do this for money and get none.

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They couldn't make it through the three days. In fact, they didn't check out until the morning Tanith had to report for duty.

Waking up was hard that day.

No, thought Tanith hours later, as she stared out the windows near the Normandy's docked form. No, getting out of the bed had been what was hard.

Her Turian lover had tempted her since very early that morning, with caresses, soft, tender words, and promises that sounded so sincere it made her body weep.

"Stay with me," he'd whispered into her ear, his firm mouth plates opening wider to skim the outer edge of her ear. It'd made her shiver, wriggle back into his warm chest, his hard, strong arms. He had tightened his grip on her, let his mouth stray along the vulnerable pulsing vein at her throat; his favorite place to kiss.

"I'm getting fairly long in the tooth," he'd continued. "My colleagues would chalk it up to senility, and I'll just tell them all you're my personal pet gold-digger... No one would care." She could feel his grin at the back of her neck. The memory made her smile. "And you'd only have to stay until I die, which is, let's face it, sooner than your end of times-"

At that point, she'd rolled over and hit him in the head with her pillow, his startled face enough to get her laughing, even if his words hadn't gotten her well on her way.

She peeled back the blankets and slid her bare, warm skin against his yielding, leather-hard plates, tucking a knee between his thighs, slinging a leg over his hip. His rumble of pleasure tempered her laughter to a warm, affectionate smile, one he answered when she brushed back the cushion and revealed his face. She cupped his face with her hands, no longer alien to her, and stroked his dark cheeks with her thumbs, lining her fingers up with the white clan markings that radiated out from his face.

"You spend a week with me, most of which is in bed-"

"-and on the floor, and the lovely antique desk, and I do recall a few hours you spent plastered up against that divine, hand-wrought window-"

"-And at the end of it you're asking me to be your mistress and move with you to... to.." She paused, lost; had he even told her where he was from?

"Noveria," he told her, threading long-taloned digits into her tousled dark hair, reveling in the feel of it against his knuckles.

She stared at him a moment, only to laugh. "The land of eternal snow and crazy science experiments?" she giggled.

He nodded, serious save the twinkle in his eyes. "I'd build you a fort of snow," he suggested, snuggling closer to her, drawing her knee further up his hip. She could feel his erection brush her thigh, and she shivered in response; she knew what was coming. "Giant Turian snow legions. With tubers for noses and rocks for eyes-"

"I think you're confusing your descriptions," she teased back, breathless, until he pushed her to her back and slid into her. Then, she truly was without breath, filled up, spine arching, feeling her legs drawn over his shoulders as he began to move inside of her, hips pistoning slow and hard.

Had he learned so much from me in just a week's time? Tanith wondered in the now, leaning against the railing, ignoring the passage of crewmates behind her, the occasional greeting. She was lost in recent memory, even as her eyes wondered the curves of her beloved ship.

She stood there until the last minute, leaning back with a sigh, gripping the rail before groaning in defiance and frustration. There was no help for it. It was time to go.

She didn't even know his name.

Upon turning away, she was quite suddenly in the way of a completely different Turian altogether, one she had all but forgotten.

"Oh! Officer Vakarian!" she gasped, coming to attention and snapping a salute out of sheer surprise. Her attraction to him didn't strike her as hard as it did the last time he'd been this close, and it was the memory of the attraction that made her blush more than anything.

That, and the fact that the last Turian she saw had her pressed against a wall, fucking her senseless while he howled his release.

But besides that, a detached part of her couldn't help but notice, there was nothing she felt for Garrus Vakarian than respect and a crewman's camaraderie.

Well, crap, she thought. All that research for nothing, I guess?

Yeah right. Nothing.

Looking as relaxed as she had ever seen him, the blue-armored sniper gave her a nod and a smile, his duffle over his shoulder. "Chief," he greeted her. "You're looking more at ease than last I saw you. Good leave?"

She fell into step beside him as they made their way to the docking bay doors. His observation made her smile, and she laughed, rubbing her neck under her uniform collar as she considered her response. When she looked up at him to reply, she found his eyes riveted to her hand, in particular her neck, a look of stunned recognition on his face.

Confused, she opened her mouth to ask what the matter was, only to remember. Fingers flew up to cover the impressive love-bite at her neck, her face promptly bursting into red-fleshed flame as she blushed harder than she ever had in her life.

As he stared at the mark, and then her, and then at it again, she flailed at the door lock until it opened and all but fled through the portal. "You could say that! Sir!" she threw over her shoulder, jogging down the walkway and into the safety of the Normandy.

~b~

Several days later, Tanith was staring at the report on her omni-tool, certain she was dreaming. She had just accepted, with her very first cup of coffee that day, that she would just have to let the past go.

Of all the-

"-and remember, people; this is not a social call or even a remotely long-term landing. This is a supply run and won't last longer than a cycle. You have shore-leave for ten hours and then you are to report back to the Normandy at the end of it."

Operative Lawson's voice still had that bur of irritation it'd had since they all returned from their extended Omega vacation. The rumor had it that she'd been plastered on Ryncol the entire time and was still hung over.

"If you must indulge yourself in Mr. Moreau's impromptu crew-wide dinner-"

"-it's called a 'snowball fight', Miranda-" Joker's voice quipped from the background.

"(You sit your ass back down before I break your hips, Joker)-please be sure to visit either Professor Mordin or Doctor Chakwas before and after for immunizations and a quick medical scan. We have too much to do without spreading viruses amongst ourselves."

There was a pause, and Tanith was fairly sure that Miranda was still broadcasting. The sound of something snapping (like a pencil, she hoped) confirmed this, and a pathetic, stifled scream tore through the ship before it abruptly cut off.

The antics were enough to make her smile, before reality set in again and she stared out the window at the planet getting bigger and bigger through it.

"Of all the places to stop by on the way to Earth," she muttered to herself. Chills ran up her arms, and a nervous, uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach.

She sighed.

Noveria.

They docked that day in the capital city of Port Hanshan.

Tanith had gone back and forth, weighing her options about what she should do, and in the end opted to stay aboard the Normandy. Hassled by her friends and crewmates, she resisted all temptation and told them all plainly, no, thank you, she wasn't going to join and them, and if they didn't get off her back about it, she'd poison their food and have Grunt pee in their bunks.

It wasn't like she couldn't use the alone time. She had a lot to go through in her head, and since Omega, they'd never once slowed down. It was supply pickup after supply pickup, special ammunitions, armor crates, gear modifications, ship upgrades, a new shuttle outfit, weapons modifications... And she had to inventory all of it and find a place to stow it all, without crowding this living, moving, flying community she was proud to call home.

So she was adjusting to the work she had ahead of her, checking through her list of things to get done while she finished up her coffee. It'd been an hour or so since everyone had shuffled off, and the Normandy was, despite her various creaks and hums, fairly quiet.

Then the elevator doors opened into the crew quarters, and the voice of Commander Shepard herself carried through the mess area.

"-erberus took the Turian-Human design and improved on it, mostly through expanding mass and living arrangements. The Normandy has a larger crew now, human and non-human, and she has the space to accommodate all of us and then some."

Tanith frowned. Who was she talking to? She craned her head around, trying to peer at the guest her leader had walked in with.

"She is certainly the most luxurious of the stealth ships I've had the pleasure of boarding," came an amused, dual-toned, resonant, familiar Turian voice.

Son of a-

"-bitch!" Tanith exclaimed, as she leaned too far and tumbled backward, chair and all.

The clatter she made caught the attention of the two she'd been trying so hard to spy on.

"Chief!" came Shepard's startled response. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd be out with everyone else, throwing snowballs at Grunt's big, arrogant head!"

Face flaming, Tanith did her best to look dignified as she struggled to her feet, dusting off her uniform. "Work to do, Commander. If I have time, I will, but I'd rather stay aboard the Normandy." And then she looked up at the Turian standing further behind Shepard, willing herself to meet his eyes.

If her shock was anything to go by, his was far beyond, tenfold at least. Stunned was an apt description. So was flabbergasted. He was completely besides himself, trying so hard not to gape, dressed in a uniform that she didn't recognize but noted fit him surprisingly well.

Unable to help herself, she licked her lips, fighting the desire to smile as his mandibles fluttered abruptly before drawing tightly inward at the sight.

Oh we are in such a mess! she thought. What do we do now?

From Tanith's last words, mere seconds had passed despite how much longer it felt. Commander Shepard was introducing them, gesturing between Tanith and the Turian.

"...of Noveria, and Lorik Qui'in, this is Tanith Delano, our book-cooker aboard the Normandy. She keeps us geared, supplied, and fed, among other things."

Lorik was already lifting his hand, offering it to her in the human gesture of hand-shaking he'd adopted, when a blue sphere materialized nearby.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Commander, but you're needed in the CIC," came EDI's pleasant, artificial voice.

Shepard frowned. "What's up, EDI?"

"Joker is being held hostage in an ice fortress occupied by Subject Zero and Urdnot Grunt, and Miranda is worried she lacks the negotiation skills to get him back unharmed. If you have a moment, I think Operative Lawson is wanting to consult on the matter before she launches a rescue attempt."

The AI even managed to sound amused.

"Alright EDI," laughed Shepard. "I'm on my way." She turned to Tanith and Lorik, apologetic. "I'll be right back. Tani, why don't you show Lorik here the rest of the crew living quarters? I'll pick up where you leave off." And with a wave and woosh of elevator doors, the two of them were left alone.

And then Tanith was being pressed up against a wall, her legs around Lorik's hips, his dark, beautiful face filling her vision before he kissed her hungrily, Turian teeth and tongue and all. She moaned and dug her nails into the back of his neck, squeezing him tightly with arms and legs, unable to lie to herself anymore.

"-can't stop thinking about you-"

"-didn't think I'd see you again-"

"-hope to the Spirits this isn't-"

"-and you're here-"

"-the Normandy?"

"-be in the capital?"

"-too damn old to have an infatuation-"

They were all breathless words, spoken between kisses and caresses and passionate, insistent embracing. It took a moment for them to calm down, and when they did, they still leaned against each other, Tanith's feet on the ground again, his mouth brushing the top of her head, her arms about his waist.

"Lorik," she said quietly, tasting his name. She smiled when she felt him shiver at the sound of his name. "Does this mean you like me?" she mumbled into his chest.

His answering laugh warmed her to her toes, the resonant chuckle making her shiver with delight. "Indeed," he answered. "I set all of this up for you, and no other reason. Because I knew you were on this ship, and organized a rendezvous with Commander Shepard three days before I'd ever met you." His sarcasm bled out quickly, and his arms tightened around her. "But I could say the same of you," he murmured into her hair, a note of hesitant inquiry in his voice. "... I mean ... I thought ..."

He thought she wanted someone else. He thought that their's had been an almost-strictly-professional arrangement. She could hear him think these things as clearly as if he'd spoken them aloud.

He seemed so at a loss that Tanith took pity on him. She drew back and turned her head, tugging down the high collar of her uniform to expose the dark, purple-red mark he'd left behind. His inhale was sharp, staring a moment before touching her skin with careful talons.

"Even if I had wanted to," she said quietly, cheeks blushing with the emotions she felt, "this is only meant to arouse one Turian." She turned her head to fix him with a steady gaze, despite her flush. "The one who made it."

~b~

About an hour later, Shepard came back to find Lorik Qui'in standing alone, leaning against one of the mess tables and staring at the floor. He cut off her greeting with a joke about needing to run off, busy schedule, much to do as Administrator, etc., and would she mind very much catching up later that day?

Shipments had already been handled, the bulk stowed in the cargo bay while the rest was still being boarded. Tanith refused to feel guilty as she waited by the loading ramp, especially when Lorik stalked around the corner, grabbing her hand and hauling her with him as he walked by.

Giggling under her breath, she looked around nervously, wondering if they were going to be reprimanded for wandering through the private sector. The Turian, she noted, couldn't seem to care less, looking down at her with lust and amusement, his arm sneaking out to wind around her and pull her close.

"You walk around here like you own the place," she laughed, trying to summon up that feeling of caution again but feeling it melt beneath the glow of … whatever this was.

He barked a laugh, squeezing her close, pausing at the public entrance to cup her face and draw her mouth up to his in a soft, passionate kiss, before pressing his brow to hers. He was so tall, she had to stand on her toes to accommodate him, before her arms wound about his neck to close the distance. For all their time together, he'd never done that, the brow pressing; the Turian equivelant to a kiss.

"I want her back in eight hours, Administrator," came Shepard's dry, amused tones.

Tanith let go of Lorik with a squeak, her cheeks pink, staring at her Commander with a guilty expression.

The dark Turian turned to Shepard and gave her a sly grin. "I don't know. Think I can convince her to retire with me? I think I need someone to take care of me in my golden years."

Shepard laughed, jabbing a finger in his direction from her place at the entrance archway. "Don't you dare."

"I can always make up something to arrest her for-"

"What!" gasped Tanith, laughing.

"But I mean, she did make off with a large sum of my money on Omega-"

"Oh my god-"

"And she did seduce me, taking advantage of an old, senile, dull-scaled Turian who also happens to run Port Hanshan-"

At this point, Shepard was unable to stop laughing and Tanith was doing her best to wriggle out of Lorik's arms and find a place to hide. He solved the problem by picking her up and hoisting her over his shoulder.

The Commander laughed, shooing the two of them away. "Get out of here before you start some serious rumors."

"Always a pleasure, Commander," came Lorik's even reply, turning about and carrying an indignant Tanith in the general direction of his personal quarters, ignoring the gaping onlookers that had gathered around. She even thought she'd caught a glimpse of an astonished Kelly as the Turian hauled her away.

… she is never going to let me live this one down, was Tanith's last desperate thought, before the doors to Lorik's apartment closed her off from everyone's view.

And then, for the next eight hours after that Tanith Delano couldn't be bothered to think much about anything at all.

~fin~
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The Auction Where Everyone Wins