Author's Note: Written for Mass Effect kink meme on livejournal. Anon wanted: a slight AU Femshep/Garrus please! Garrus' "recon-scout story" but instead make it so that it was a human/turian ship. And the recon-scout is a commander-ambassador type. And this commander-ambassador type is Shepard. And these Garrus and Shepard have it in for each other in more ways than one. Describe those nine rounds of intense powerplay; the sweat the sparring the growling the blood spilled the bruises and all this even before the tiebreaker...

She reaches into his loose pants, and is reminded...

The moment he first thought she would be an easy mark - a fun way for the turian with the runaway mouth to prove that humans were no match for them, and when he was being mouthy, she slipped under his defensive pose and struck at his ribs, surprising him. He did not underestimate her again, and made sure to hold his elbows in tight. easily these things just fall to the floor with the flick of a button. He's already running his tongue in gentle flicks along her neck, moistening areas where sweat has dried, her salt on his tongue. And he is reminded...

The way she darts and jabs at him, quick-quick, her smaller body throwing him off. He's not quite used to her fighting style. She doesn't just go for him, she hovers, her eyes concentrating on his every muscle twitch, trying to predict him. He likes a challenge, and decides he'd like to make her hesitate a little.

...that it was a good idea to down some meds before the fight. Sweat, along with other fluids, are not recommended for ingestion between their species. It happens, sometimes in a fight, blood and sweat flying. He didn't quite expect this sort of payoff though. She has reached into his pants and with a deft touch, sought him out and coaxed his cock into the warmth of her palm. She groans as his sharp teeth latch gently onto her neck. She's sure he'll draw blood, which makes her think of...

He finally decided not to go soft on the soft-skinned human. The crack across her face made her lip bleed, and she looked him in the eye as she spat out more blood onto the floor. She wasn't going to hit the ground just because he had a good right hook. She wasn't done with him yet. All these years later, she still remembered 'float like a butterfly, sting like a bee' - advice her father insisted was the best advice any lightweight ever got. He said it had stood the test of time for a reason. she's a little disgusted with herself that it turns her on. She has found the moisture seeping out of the head of him, and swirls it with her thumb. He thrusts forward into her hand, and she chuckles lowly, 'ah ah, slow down there, we haven't even gotten started yet', and he wants to get rough with her, her taunt making him recall...

She smiled at him, more than once, and he thought she was mocking him. He wondered if she was thinking she had the upper hand, and that's when the taunts began. He forgot she was who she was, and to him, just became an opponent - an opponent he disliked even more for being human. He insulted her family tree, and she let him have it about how his daddy was wishing he had a daughter, because then maybe he would've had a child with some fight. She couldn't've known that was the wrong button to push, and that earned her one of the few connecting shots - a crack to the sternum which stole her breath away for a moment.

...all the things he's heard about humans and their dirty sexual appetites. But the moment she is on her knees, he forgets he wants to show her who's in charge, because she has put his cock in her imouth/i and that's something that no one's ever done before (for a multitude of anatomical reasons). It's fucking amazing the way her tongue seems to be everywhere at once, and her mouth is hot and then she hollows her cheeks and sucks at him, and his talons tighten in her hair, and that only encourages her. He finds amusement in that, because...

She seemed to like getting hit. He didn't connect a lot, but every time she got hit, she'd shake it off and look at him again like she was enjoying this. Sure, he was enjoying it too - nothing like a little sanctioned anger management against a whole species - but she looked like she wanted him to keep connecting. Some part of him empathized - seeing his own blood made him remember he was alive. was also heavily featured in the vids he and his fellow squadmates had watched on the extranet. Human pornography. He appreciated the flexibility of his own species' females, but some of these females twisted themselves into pretzels, performing acts that turians didn't even have equivalent names for. Like what she was doing now. Or, rather, what she stopped doing, rising off her knees with a grin and pushing him back on the bed. She popped a button, and he heard it fly and ping off of some surface, and then she freed her breasts, and he was strangely entranced. There was a dark red spot on the left one, when he had discovered how fleshy they were.

She hadn't darted fast enough, and his strike landed right in her left breast. The humans had let out 'ooh's and made contorted faces. One had yelled 'cover your nads, dude, she's not going to let that one go!' and he'd been momentarily distracted - long enough for her to sweep him down, jabbing an elbow into the side of his head, calling for the end of round six.

She finished undressing, and with the last removal of her underwear, climbed atop him. She didn't want his talons anywhere near her lady bits, so she gave herself a quick rub-and-dip to make sure she was ready. She needn't have worried, because the fighting had turned her on plenty. Fighting hand to hand always did. Arguing was all well and good, but sometimes she needed different outlets for her anger.

She'd let out a primal yell and charged at him, but his longer reach meant that she didn't twist in time, and he used one arm to flip her onto her back, signaling the end of round eight. Then he'd really pissed her off. He'd leaned down, hands braced on his knees, and said 'had enough, human?' His voice made her want to do x-rated things to him, but that smirk? She wanted to wipe that off his face.

She rode him, bucking her hips sharply, and he clicked his mandibles and tightened his hold on her waist, drawing more blood to add to the injuries already sustained. Fresh sweat joined the dried rivulets on her temples, breaking out on her chest, and he tried to hold her in place, bucking up with each of her retreats. Every one of his movements caused her to let out a little huff, but he wanted to make her scream. He wanted to make her yell, because he wanted to find that weakness.

She shook her head, getting the sweat-sticky hair out of her eyes. This round had lasted longer than the ones before. None of the hits had landed right, from either of them, and it was partially from fatigue, but this far in, they'd gathered quite the crowd of humans and turians, and neither of them was going to go down. They were going to fight until they passed out, because neither of them would cry 'uncle'. This was no longer just a way to work out the kinks, this was now a humans vs. turians species showdown. They hadn't been at peace long enough for everyone to forget pass aggressions, and in this hold, on this ship, they were representatives of their entire peoples. No one was going to go down easily.

She gripped onto his bony collar, and sped up her thrusts, using him to get off. But now he'd gotten more of the hang of how this was done between humans, and after the beating she'd taken in the ring, he knew she was up for a little more roughhousing. He sat up, and flipped them over, pulling her leg up as far as it would go, holding her in place as he plunged deeper into the tighter parts of her. She was touching herself, and he leaned down to run his tongue over her nipple, and then he felt it - a flutter of her muscles around him, and he wanted more of it. She had let out a little moan when he did that, so he did it again, assaulting her sensitive buds with his rougher tongue. She reached down between their bodies and rubbed herself, and her breath got shorter and shorter, a higher-pitched noise alternating between the breaths, and he felt her clench around him in an uneven staccato rhythm. She seemed to relax all her muscles, but he wasn't done yet.

He heard the captain of the boat talking to another turian and a human. This was getting a little long, and maybe it was time for them to quit. But he would be damned if he let them call it a draw.

He tilted his pelvis and rubbed against that part she'd been touching - and her muscles spasmed again, and he grinned down at her. Now he knew the secret, and she wasn't going to be the only one getting off. He reached up to massage her unbruised breast with his hand, and she opened her eyes and looked at him. She bit her lip and raised her hips to his, encouraging short, shallow strokes. The flush that had begun to fade reappeared, and she reached up to clutch the back of his neck, her fingers sliding up into his fringe. They pressed here and there, trying to find the right pressure, and he lifted her off the bed, and flipped them over again. This time it was her flexibility he had to admire as she tilted her body backwards, arcing her back and balancing herself on the palms of her hands, between his legs. This had his head touching a different part of her, and he was already sensitive enough as it was. The change in texture was enough to bring him to his edge again, and the resumed the hard and fast pace they had begun with.

They were both dripping with sweat and blood, and they were slowing down. He knew it. She knew it. Now it was down to luck. They circled each other, and then the captain called a draw. He insisted there was no sense in killing each other, or in making each other incapable of duty later. It was a good fight on both sides, and now it was time to let someone else have a turn. They'd shaken hands like good combatants, and then headed for the showers. He got his next wind halfway down the corridor, and wished he could get back in there. He turned his head towards the sound as cheering started up again, and he knew he was missing a good fight. 'Wishing for a tiebreaker?' she asked, and he had looked back at her, and she looked positively predatory. He'd cocked his head, and she tilted hers, nodding at the guest quarters she'd been assigned, private quarters. He was smart enough to catch her drift, and she sauntered in, hips moving side to side, and he followed after her.

Just as he felt the signs she was going to come again, he reached out and lifted her off him. She let out a mew of disappointment, words having left both of them, and then was deposited on her hands and knees on the bed. She made to get up and turn around, ask him what the hell was going on, but then he pressed in the middle of her back, and kneed her legs apart, and found the place again. She let out an 'ah!' and he held onto her hips, thrusting upwards. She collapsed further down, now on her knees with her upper body resting on her shoulders, her head tilted to the side as she fisted the single pillow. This time when she starts to clench, he pushes in as far as he will go, and the barb at the base of his cock pierces her tender flesh, holding him in place as he comes. He comes through the clenches of her muscles around him, giving little thrusts with each expulsion of seed. When he has finished, the barb recedes and he pulls out of her. She collapses and then turns over, and he collapses beside her.

"I think I won the tiebreaker," she says. "I came twice," she turns her head to him with a smile.

"I think you need to read the rules better. I could have come twice if you were paying attention," he chides. He almost had, too.

She looks surprised. "What, you can...?"

"Mating often lasts several hours, silly human. You think that's all one go? I feel sorry for your human men to have such poor stamina," he clucks his tongue, genuinely sad for her previous experiences.

She turns her head back to look at the ceiling. "Now I do too," she murmurs. "How long before...?"

He turns his head to catch her gaze. "You sure you're ready to go up against me again?"

She grins. "Best two out of three?"

They break a chair, but neither of them really notice.