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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.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Shepard awoke in the early hours to the feel of the drive core dropping out of FTL, signaling their arrival in Citadel space. She could hear James' steady breathing beside her and turned on her side to look at him. He was lying on his back with one arm crooked on the pillow above his head and the other resting loosely on his bare stomach, the bedsheet concealing everything from his hips down. The pale glow of starlight and the mass effect field outside the skylight etched the planes of his well-muscled torso in stark relief. She lay watching him sleep for a moment, admiring the rise and fall of his thick chest.

He had surprised her, she had to admit. She couldn't deny that she'd been attracted to him from the very beginning of their acquaintance, and could tell the feeling was mutual. James had seemed refreshingly light of emotional baggage, or at least he was adept enough at compartmentalizing that he never let it affect the time they spent together. Neither of them had articulated a desire for anything deeper than a casual fling, which she had been grateful for after seeing Kaidan again and deciding to welcome him to the Normandy's crew for the second time, in spite of their history. She admitted that James had been a distraction for her; a distraction from every kind of loss you can imagine as the Reapers gradually destroyed everything dear to her, and one friend after another lost their lives in the process.

She hadn't counted on ever feeling more than that, but found herself contemplating the shape of things as they stood now. Over the past several weeks James had become a constant in her life. She was comforted by his presence more and more. He was dependable, unchanging, and strangely intuitive to her moods. He seemed to be able to tell when she wanted to talk and when she wanted to just shut up and fuck. The better part of their shared routine when they weren't on a mission was either having mind-blowing sex or lying in her bed together talking about anything but the war.

As she looked at him she felt the flutter in her gut again. Dammit, was she actually starting to fall for the man? A little voice inside her asked, "Would that be so bad, really?" No, it wouldn't, but it scared her a little bit. There was a chance either or both of them wouldn't survive this war and becoming emotionally involved wouldn't make things easier for whoever ended up left behind, she knew that much. But on the other hand, she also had a strong feeling that it was even more foolish to hold back when their situation was so very precarious. This might literally be the last chance they had to find anything of substance with someone else. Not that she considered him a last resort by any means.

She let out a small sigh and attempted to push the thoughts aside. At least she knew one surefire way to distract herself from them. She propped up on her elbow and reached out her other hand, trailing her fingertips lightly down the smooth skin of his chest, down across his stomach. She could feel the remnants of the sweet-smelling massage oil that had rubbed off her back onto him the night before. She felt a slight tingle between her thighs at the memory. Her fingers skimmed lower until she reached the small path of dark hair that extended below his navel and kept going beneath the bedsheet. She ran her fingers sideways along his lower abdomen and his hips where they were exposed above the sheet and smiled faintly when she saw his flesh twitch and begin to grow beneath the sheer fabric that only just barely concealed him from her eyes.

She pulled the sheet gently down his hips, exposing his hardening flesh to her and she idly caressed his bare inner thigh and ran a soft finger up along his length while she admired him. The sight of his perfectly muscled body laying there stretched out in the starlight with the flesh between his thighs standing proudly erect caused a low heat to build in her center. She felt the familiar throb of need deep between her thighs and sat up, moving quietly to straddle his hips. She raised her hips up and used one hand to guide him into her slowly. The first stroke always sent her head spinning with the way her tight flesh stretched to accommodate his thickness. She let out a soft moan at the sensation and began to move slowly atop him.

He began to rouse after the third or fourth stroke. A look of mild consternation flickered across his face and his hands moved down to grip her thighs. When they found solid flesh a slow smile spread across his face and he opened sleepy eyes to look at her.

"You just help yourself, Lola, don't mind me," he said to her, his voice still thick and groggy from sleep.

"Mmm, don't mind if I do," she responded silkily with a smile of her own.

He slid his large hands up her thighs and squeezed gently at her backside, then bent his knees behind her and sat up. He wrapped his arms around her torso in a loose embrace and tilted his head to her breast, capturing one nipple gently between his lips and flicking his tongue over it until she arched her back and he heard her moan at the sensation. He switched to her other breast and she sighed in pleasure at the contact.

She gripped the back of his neck with one hand. He tilted his head back, meeting her gaze. They held each other's eyes for several passion-charged seconds with parted lips, chests heaving in tandem as she rocked against him. He remembered that same look in her eyes from the night before and wondered briefly if it meant what he thought it meant. He slid one large hand to the back of her neck and pulled her face to his, their lips meeting in a hungry, penetrating kiss, their tongues dancing in tempo to their rocking hips.

They broke away from the kiss a moment later. He gripped her shoulders gently and tilted her backwards, and in one smooth movement he rolled forward. She lay beneath him with her head hanging slightly off the end of the bed, her dark, tangled locks drifting against the floor. She wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and gasped at the sudden change in angle and the deepened penetration of his length inside her as his hips began moving against hers again.

He braced his weight on one arm and bent his head, kissing and nuzzling at her exposed throat as he slid his other hand down her side, thumb drifting over the tip of her breast and lower. His hand drifted down past her hip until he reached her thigh and gripped her just behind the knee, urging her legs up. She obediently lifted them and wrapped them around his torso, locking her ankles behind him. He moaned softly against her neck at the delicious feel of all her soft skin sliding against his own.

He found her mouth with his again and kissed her fervently. He wished briefly that they could stay like this forever. Forget the Reapers, forget the Alliance, forget politics, forget everything but the feel of her body under his, wrapped around him and writhing in ecstasy.

Her quickened breathing and urgent grinding of her hips brought him out of the brief reverie. He increased his own pace to accommodate her and within seconds her thighs began to quiver and tighten around him, her nails digging into his biceps. Her breathing became quick and shallow, interspersed with cries of pleasure. Their climax hit them both simultaneously and he arched his back with a final solid thrust. Their passionate cries mingled as her muscles clenched around his spasming flesh.

He snaked his arms around her back and lifted her upright again, leaning back on his heels as he did so. She embraced him with both arms and legs and kissed him deeply between gasping breaths.

"You're gonna run out of ways to outdo yourself, James," she said breathlessly against his lips.

He laughed. "What do you mean me? You started it." He paused, trying to catch his breath, shaking his head slowly from side to side. "Damn, Lola. And I was having the dirtiest dream about you, but it didn't even compare to what I woke up to."

She slipped out of his arms with a small sigh and he watched in a daze as she stood and strolled up the steps headed for the bathroom. A moment later he heard the sound of the shower starting up.

"Are you joining me?" she called to him. He contemplated briefly then checked the clock. By his estimate they'd be docking at the Citadel in little more than an hour, and he knew if he got in that shower with her they may never leave her room again. He commanded his limbs into action and started throwing on his clothes.

He called back, "Nah, as tempting as your shower is, Lola, I think I'll shower down on the crew deck before we dock."

After he finished dressing, he walked up the steps and stood leaning against the open doorway to her bathroom for a moment, enjoying the way the water shimmered alluringly where it ran in small rivulets over her naked skin.

She glanced over one wet shoulder and said, "Hey, before you go, can you give me the name of that guy on the Citadel? The tattoo artist... you said you knew one who wasn't Batarian."

His eyebrows shot up and he stared at her for a second, speechless, then his mouth quirked up in a sideways grin.

"You finally decided to get some ink, Lola?" he asked, intrigued.

"Maybe. I want to meet the guy first before I decide."

He turned to find a piece of paper and a pen on her desk and scribbled a few lines.

"Just remember, it's spelled J-A-M-E-S," he said, poker-faced. "You can surprise me with where you have him put it, just make sure it isn't in a place I'll have to punch his lights out for. The old bastard's a friend, and it's hard to find good tattoo artists. Also, don't believe a word he says about me."

She laughed and said, "I'll keep that in mind. What are you up to today?"

He shrugged. "Picking up some new armor hopefully. Restocking. Maybe some Sky-Five at the docks if I have any money left. The usual."

"Drinks later?" she asked without turning around again. "I should be done by nineteen-hundred."

"Sounds good. Later, Lola," he said, and casually strolled out her door.

ooOoo

As James entered the elevator and punched the floor for the crew deck he got the strangest feeling that they were leaving something important unsaid. Had it been his imagination, or had she actually looked at him like he was more than just a diversion for a change?

He hadn't had any illusions about where he stood with her and their... whatever this was. Relationship was far too heavy a word to attach to it, he thought. He could admit that he cared about her - probably more than he ought to under the circumstances - but he was fine if it was just a fling. He knew their mission was risky enough that getting attached could prove to be a disadvantage. Besides, she was his commanding officer, and her disregard for regs didn't change that. He just chalked her interest up to the dire situation they were in with the war, and left it at that. He didn't think it prudent to draw too much attention to the issue, anyway. Why spoil a good thing? Plus, she was a Spectre, and that kindof trumped Alliance chain of command, anyway, didn't it?

Regardless of all the excuses, he wasn't a stranger to the idea of "friends-with-benefits," but it was beginning to feel distinctly like they were treading on unfamiliar territory; like they were becoming something more than just friends. Those looks she had shot him were definitely new. And at the risk of over thinking things, he thought it would be a good idea to find out if they were about to get into something deeper. If that were the case, he wouldn't hesitate to go all in, but he didn't do commitment by halves, and he needed to make sure she understood that.

When the elevator door opened on the crew deck his mind was still churning through the possibilities for scenarios in which he confronted her about the issue. He changed his mind and punched the button again, heading to the shuttle bay to his weights and punching bag. He hoped a good workout would help clear his head a little.

When he heard Joker's voice announce that they were docking forty-five minutes later, he was drenched in sweat and no closer to a decision. What if he'd misread her completely? He thought he'd gotten pretty good at understanding her moods lately, but could he be wrong about this? Fuck, he needed to get his mind off her for awhile.

He almost barrelled into Cortez and Alenko when he stepped off the elevator onto the crew deck. Those two seemed fucking joined at the hip lately.

"Vega, we're headed to Apollo's for breakfast, want to join us?" Steve asked casually. Kaidan shot Steve a surprised look that James thought might have been tinged with annoyance.

His stomach rumbled loudly before he had a chance to answer. "Um, yeah, that would be fantastic, actually. Just give me ten minutes to shower and change."

ooOoo

Shepard navigated the back alleys of the Citadel Wards searching for the address James had written down for her. It turned out to be a small, run-down shopfront in the Lower Wards with heavy block lettering on the front window that proclaimed it as "Blackwork Tattoo." The interior was dark, but she could see a light glowing from a doorway down a small hallway inside. She hit the comm buzzer outside the door. When there was no answer she hit the button again and spoke into the small speaker.

"Mason Black? A... friend - Lieutenant James Vega - said you could help me with something."

She thought she saw a shadow of movement in the back and then a deep, gravelly voice came through the speaker.

"Yeah? And who would I be helping exactly?"

"Commander Shepard. You might have heard of me."

A moment later a hulking form blocked the light in the hallway and stalked out in the process of yanking up and fastening his pants. The lithe form of a pretty Asari trotted out behind him still clearly in the process of dressing. Shepard stood to the side as he yanked the door open and the girl ran out, propelled by a quick smack on her behind from the man's large hand. He propped the door open and stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and sized her up.

"You don't look like a Commander to me," he said after a cursory inspection that made her feel a little bit more vulnerable than she'd expected to. She briefly regretted opting for civilian clothes today, thinking she'd be more comfortable if she decided to go through with the tattoo. She'd even left her hair down, hoping to appear less the uptight military type. She didn't think she'd have anything to prove to this surly old bastard.

"I have credentials if you need proof," she said, holding his steely gaze with one of equal hardness, then proceeded to take his measure with her own eyes.

He was a huge man, almost bigger than James, and he'd clearly seen his share of scrapes in his life. His skull was shaved completely bald and deep crow's feet radiated out from the corners of steel-grey eyes that didn't seem to miss a single detail. He had a toothpick solidly tucked in the corner of an unsmiling mouth that was punctuated on either side by deep lines. His clenched jaw was dusted with a healthy layer of silvery grey stubble and there were a myriad of small scars decorating his weathered face. He was wearing a tight black tanktop that showed off his large muscles, and black cargo pants extended down to the tops of his pale bare feet.

Ex-mercenary, Shepard concluded. Her assessment was confirmed when she caught a glimpse of the familiar Blue Suns tattoo on one side of his neck.

"Ex Blue Sun," she observed out loud. "You must have known Zaeed Massani." She decided to take a chance that he didn't despise the Blue Suns' former co-founder.

He grunted in response, cutting his eyes to one side, and she thought she almost saw him smile around his toothpick.

He looked back at her with a slight nod and said, "Jimmy only refers people he really likes... and he's never referred a woman before. You must either be a fantastic lay, or little Jimmy's in love for once." His eyes raked down her torso again and he grinned and said, "Or both."

"Or it could just be because I'm his CO," she shot back with a heated glare. She was getting a little fed up with the man's posturing.

He glared back and bared his teeth, then spat out, "You could just be another goddamn Cerberus cyborg for all I know." He advanced on her suddenly with a look of menace. In a quick blur of action, she grabbed him by the wrist and with a hard yank and a twist she knocked his feet out from under him with a sweep of her leg. He went down with a heavy thud and a grunt in the middle of the doorway with her knee against his breastbone.

His expression split into a huge grin as he looked up at her.

"Oh, you're a keeper," he said. "Make sure you tell Jimmy I told you that when you see him. Help me up." She gave him a perplexed smile and stood back, pulling him back to his feet and groaning to herself when she caught his eyes roving down her neckline before she'd stood upright again.

"A second ago you were accusing me of being a Cerberus cyborg. Now I'm passing messages along for you?"

He shrugged. "Cyborgs don't usually have racks as nice as yours," he said, gesturing at her tight-fitting low-cut shirt. "Or hickeys." She flushed brightly and reached a hand up to where she distinctly recalled James' teeth sinking into her shoulder the night before - or had it been that morning? She'd thought she'd chosen a shirt that covered it up well enough.

"The infamous Commander Shepard," he said with a low chuckle, eyeing her up and down again with a more friendly expression. His face was utterly transformed by his smile, his eyes lighting up with joy.

"I never in a million years imagined I'd get to meet you. To what do I owe this honor, other than Jimmy, of course."

"James says you're the best tattoo artist in the galaxy. I want a tattoo."

She thought she saw the big man blush and smiled to herself. He clearly responded well to flattery.

"Well, that I can definitely help you with, Shepard. Come on in."

He held the door open for her and then locked it behind her after she walked in.

"Just make yourself comfortable," he said as he wandered into a room further down the hallway.

"So, by way of a proper introduction, what does Jimmy call you?" she heard him ask from the other room. She heard a shower start up.

The question surprised her, "Ah... he calls me Lola. And you?"

He laughed a deep, throaty laugh, "Lola, Lola, Lola. I remember that one. He's in deep with you and he probably doesn't even know it yet. He calls me Diego. Something to do with an old Latin painter. I never really got it, myself, but that's Jimmy for ya."

She wandered around idly exploring the interior of the tattoo parlor. It was sparsely furnished, with only just enough decoration to make it seem like a legitimate business. There was a small area partitioned off from the view of the shop's front window that had mirrors on all the walls and an oddly shaped leather-upholstered seat in the center. It was as clean and well organized as a clinic and she would have thought that's where she was except for the scrolling border of photographs that flickered around the upper edge of the walls above the mirrors.

"So, how do you know James exactly?" she asked through the doorway as she occupied herself by watching the slideshow of tattoos that streamed around the room.

His deep voice called back over the sound of the shower, "His uncle and I enlisted together. Went through boot camp. Got real tight during the First Contact war." There was a brief pause before he continued. "Shit happened after that and we went our separate ways, but I keep my promises. Try to look out for Jimmy when he's on my side of the galaxy. The least I could do after his uncle saved my life."

There was some impressive artwork to look at, she had to admit. She was pretty sure she saw a couple of James' tattoos in the mix.

"I heard about Massani joining your team when you were with Cerberus," she heard him say as he came back into the room. She stiffened slightly at the association, but his placid expression and non-judgmental tone set her at ease again.

"I left the Suns not long after that stunt Vido pulled. That fucker should have known better than to cross him... I understand you were there at the end of their little tif?" She nodded impassively. It hadn't been one of her prouder moments, giving in to the old mercenary's need for revenge.

"Man, I'd have loved to have seen the look on Vido's face at the end," the large man shook his head and smiled.

"Zaeed's one tough old bastard," she said.

He nodded and smiled back, "The only person I've heard of tougher than him is you, and if the stories are true, I believe it. But sweetness, you are much easier on the eyes. If you run into him again, tell him he owes me a drink. Now, tell me what I can do for you."

He was attentive as she pulled the small piece of paper out of her pocket and showed it to him, explaining what she wanted.

He glanced at her with a look of surprise and asked, "This is your first tattoo?" She nodded. He shook his head slowly.

"Shepard, you be careful. If Jimmy sees this, there's a strong chance he'll propose. Just prepare yourself is all I'm saying."

She laughed softly. "Thanks for the warning. So, it sounds like you know Jimmy pretty well. Got any good stories to help pass the time?"

He gave her a conspiratorial grin as he readied his ink gun. She turned around modestly and began to take off her shirt when she realized the mirrors pretty much showed every angle of her to the rest of the room no matter where she stood.

She hesitated for a second and he laughed, saying, "Sweetness, I've seen it all before. Yours may be nicer than most, but I think I can contain myself if I have to look at another pair."

So she stripped off her shirt and settled into the chair with her back facing him, listening raptly as he began applying ink to her fair skin and spinning tales as he worked.

ooOoo

It took all of ten minutes at breakfast before James started feeling like a third wheel. Steve seemed not to mind, but Kaidan kept giving James sidelong looks that were bordering on hostile. He scarfed down his breakfast and then booked, promising Steve he'd buy them drinks at Purgatory later to make up for it. He was pretty sure the Major looked relieved when he finally left.

He spent the first few hours on auto-pilot before it seemed like his internal VI began shorting out. He'd had a list of things he planned to do when he started out, but he kept getting distracted by things that reminded him of her. He felt like an ass at the armory kiosk when they brought him back to have the armor fitted. Was he seriously buying new armor because he couldn't contain himself around a woman? But when his mind drifted back to that morning he was acutely reminded of the validity of the concern. He finally settled on a suit he felt comfortable with and winced at the amount of credits he was dropping on it.

He stopped at the weapons kiosk to order a restock of the Normandy's inventory of thermal clips. On a whim he began browsing through the wares, expertly inspecting the different pieces. When he saw the upgraded Tempest he immediately thought of her and spent a good hour looking it over, testing its weight and sights. He'd seen how she fought and knew this was exactly the type of SMG she liked. He knew she was only still using the Shuriken because it had been readily available when they'd left Earth and she'd gotten used to it, preferring to defer resources to the team members that relied more on weapons than she did. But thinking of her charging into the middle of a pile of Cerberus soldiers or Reaper husks, whipping this little beauty out and laying them all to waste with it... yeah, he got just a little hard at the thought.

"I'll take this one. Do you gift wrap?"

When he made it to Purgatory that evening he was earlier than he thought he'd be, but he was ready for a drink. He'd lost a few hands at the docks before finally just giving up and leaving after making random excuses to the other players. He hadn't been able to shake the lingering thoughts of her all day, so at the very least he hoped a drink or two might help shed some tension before she joined him.

He stood at the bar and ordered a whiskey. As he sat nursing it he saw Cortez and Alenko drift in. Alenko definitely seemed more relaxed than he'd been that morning and he wondered briefly what they'd been up to all day, but realized suddenly that he really didn't need to know. Cortez waved him over to their table and he ordered a quick round for them before sauntering over.

He noted that it was close to the time she said she'd be here and took a seat across from the others so that he had a clear view of the entrance to the club.

"Waiting for someone?" Kaidan asked.

"Shepard said she'd meet me here tonight," he replied nonchalantly, making an effort not to keep glancing towards the door. Kaidan nodded and the three of them fell into idle conversation that James was only half aware of. He noted after awhile that Steve seemed a hundred times more positive than he had in weeks and he finally started to take note of the way the two men behaved with each other. It was clear to him from their lingering looks and their close proximity to the other that their relationship had progressed into more serious territory. And they made it look almost easy. His stomach did a little flip at the idea that he could have that with her if things went the way he was hoping they would. And it finally hit him how much he wanted it to work out that way. Don't jump the gun, pendejo. Wait until you talk to her before you get all wrapped up in the idea, he told himself. He tossed back the rest of his drink in one long swallow.

Cortez stood to fetch another round from the bar. After he was out of earshot Kaidan asked, "So, things are getting serious between you two?"

James' gaze shot up to meet the other man's eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Why do you ask?" he said, warily.

Kaidan shrugged. "After that little show with Taylor, it seemed like that's the direction things were headed. And I've seen the way she is around you."

James laughed, "The thing with Taylor was just territorial bullshit. It had nothing to do with feelings."

Kaidan looked unconvinced, "Sure it didn't." He studied James for a minute and said, "If it makes you feel better, I wanted to punch the guy, too, the way he was talking about her."

James gave him an appraising look. "You still care about her," he stated directly.

Kaidan met his eyes and nodded, "Yeah, how could I not? I'm the first to admit I was a fool to let her go, but I get the feeling you're better for her than I was." He hesitated for several seconds and then said softly, "She's more fragile than she lets on. She needs someone strong enough to really be there for her. Especially now... I don't think I could be that person in her life, even if she'd let me. Just... don't make the same mistake I did. Make sure you hold on to her."

James wasn't sure he agreed with Alenko's assessment of her, but nodded and said, "I intend to, if that's what she wants. What happens next is kindof up to her."

Cortez returned with their drinks a moment later. James had his halfway to his lips when he cast a glance toward the door and his heart skittered to a stop. He felt suddenly dizzy when all the blood from his head decided to rush southward.

"Fuck. Me." he whispered, and his companions both turned to look at what he was fixated on. If he'd been marginally aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed that a majority of the other bar patrons, males and females alike, seemed to be having a similar reaction to the long-legged beauty in black that had just strolled into Purgatory.

Shepard turned her head to the bar and gave him a bright smile when she saw him and started towards their table. Her creamy skin was lightly flushed and her dark-fringed eyes were bright as they met his gaze and held it intently. Her black hair was loose and fell in shining waves over her back and shoulders. She was wearing a snug black blouse that wrapped around her midsection and was cut in a low V that accented the shapes of her perfect breasts as they bounced and swayed alluringly with each step closer to him. Her tight black pants hugged her swaying hips just right, and fit her thighs perfectly, their line interrupted halfway down her legs by the tops of a pair of high leather boots.

Before he could even process his reaction she was sitting down next to him and leaning in to whisper in his ear. He couldn't even hear her words because his brain was still frantically trying to catch up to the sensory overload that she was inflicting upon him as her hand slid up his thigh and her soft breasts pressed against his upper arm, the familiar scent of her drifting to his nostrils. He briefly registered that she wasn't wearing a bra and that her nipples were stretching at the fabric of her shirt with tantalizing clarity. She raised her hand to his chin and gripped it gently between thumb and forefinger, turning his face towards hers and laying a soft but sensuous kiss against his lips. He returned the kiss and could taste the sweet warmth of expensive whiskey on her tongue.

"Mmm, hey Lola," he said in a daze when she pulled back from the kiss and he could respond to the verbal greeting she'd given him earlier. When his brain finally caught up with all his senses he realized she had just called him Jimmy.

"That old bastard," he muttered under his breath with a small shake of his head. She grinned at him.

"Should I ask how it went today?" he asked, meeting her eyes.

"It was... educational," she said with a sly smile. "But don't worry, your secrets are safe with me." She winked at him.

"He lies, you know. I'm just sayin'," he said in a sulky tone.

"Well, liar or not, he has fantastic taste in liquor. He sent you a gift," she said and set a square, black-labeled bottle in the center of the table. "I'll go grab another glass so we can all share."

As he craned his neck to watch her walk to the bar, he heard low laughter coming from the other side of the table. He turned back to see Kaidan trying ineffectually to stifle a laugh and Steve sitting with an amused smile beside him.

"Jimmy?" Kaidan said with a grin. "That sounds pretty serious to me, man."

"Shut up."

ooOoo

James spent the next two hours in even worse conflict than he had all day, simultaneously anxious about talking to her and eager to get her alone in her quarters and rip off her clothes. And the question kept popping into his mind about the tattoo she'd said she might get today. She hadn't mentioned it again and he hadn't had a chance to ask, not certain whether she wanted the information to be common knowledge, but he'd noticed she was sitting a little stiffly and had shied away slightly whenever he tried to touch her on the back. His curiosity was almost overwhelming when she smacked an empty shot glass down on the table.

Steve said, "Damn, Shepard. How can you drink like that? What do you weigh, 110 soaking wet?"

James laughed and said, "She's heavier than she looks." Shepard shot him an evil glare and he grunted out a laugh when her elbow made sharp contact with his ribs.

She pointed at Kaidan and they shared a jubilant glance and said in unison, "The wonders of biotic metabolism."

She laughed out loud. "Kaidan, remember that night in Afterlife when the bartender tried to poison us?"

"Us?" Kaidan asked, incredulous. "You were the only one dumb enough to accept a drink from a Batarian. You were unconscious for a good hour before we managed to revive you."

"Well, I did get free drinks in the bar after that night," she said with a laugh.

Her metabolism may have been better than most, but she was clearly showing the signs of having effectively just drank the rest of them under the table. When she suggested dancing he knew it was time to go before she made a complete fool of herself.

"Lola," he whispered in her ear in a tone he'd learned she would respond to in a certain way. In a husky voice he said, "Let's get outa here." For emphasis, he kissed her neck just beneath her earlobe and slowly slid his hand up her side, stroking the underside of her breast lightly with his thumb. He heard her breath hitch and she turned to meet his gaze.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said with a sultry smile.

ooOoo

They made it as far as the Normandy's elevator before she had him up against the wall, the entire length of her body pressed against his and her lips hungrily kissing him. He realized at one point that this was the perfect moment for him to live out his old fantasy of having her in the elevator, but the thought seemed trite and pointless. He'd grown used to having her utterly bare and writhing beneath him, or on top of him, or in any number of other positions, depending on how the mood struck them. Fucking in an elevator limited the possibilities somewhat.

When they reached her quarters, she pressed him against the wall again. He held her back gently and said in a quiet voice, "Hang on, Lola, I think you have something to show me."

She drew back from him and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Are you sure you're ready for that, James? You might fall in love."

He groaned softly when he felt her hips grind against his again. In a breathless voice he said, "I could think of worse things." I think I'm already there, anyway, he thought to himself.

She led him to her bed and urged him to sit, then rested on his lap with her back to him.

"I'll let you do the honors," she said, raising her arms up above her head.

He hesitated for a second, resting his large hands at her hips before he gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, anxious but eager to see what the sheer fabric would reveal. As the edge of the shirt rose up he began to see bits of black ink decorating her skin. The black shapes became larger and darker as he raised his hands up with the thin fabric gripped between his fingers. His breath quickened and he felt his already hard flesh begin to throb painfully against his fatigues. When the shirt passed her shoulders and over her head, she pulled her hair to the front and glanced back at him where he sat in stunned silence.

"So, what do you think?" she asked with quiet apprehension.

"I think I'm in love."
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Blackwork