send me ONE WORD and I’ll write a drabble
"Tell me something, Garrus." It was late; some odd hour in the night cycle. Her quarters were quiet for once, the incessant thrumming music—noise—she had taken to playing over loudspeakers silenced long ago.
They had taken a night off. Or, rather, Karin had forced them to take a night off under threat of relieving them both of their duties if they didn’t listen. Damn doctors with their damned powers. Still, they had bowed their heads and agreed, lest her threats became a reality. After all, Karin’s threats were rarely empty.
"Shoot, Shepard. Not that I don’t get shot at often enough, but, ah…" His talons grazed her bare skin, gently tracing the scars left behind by seemingly endless battle. His mandibles flicked in his best version of a smile, and she rolled her eyes and smiled back just as widely.
"Got any lingerie preferences, big guy?" It was an honest question, really. To be quite honest, most of the time they were both too engrossed in each other to give a damn what either was wearing, and that was perfectly fine, but… shit, she wanted to wear something nice for him.
The question, however, seemed to catch him completely by surprise. He seemed to go stiff for a second, then tilted his head in utmost confusion, gaze scrutinizing. “I, uh… what?”
She shrugged, making an effort not to laugh. “You know, what do you like to see?”
"Other than whatever you’re wearing?" She could see the mischievous glint in his eyes even in the dim light cast by the fish tank, but she was too tangled up in him to move away. Garrus tugged playfully at the elastic on her panties and let go; it returned with the characteristic thwack only elastic on skin could make.
"Ow! Asshole." She was laughing, though, palm swatting at his arm as punishment. And, Spirits, it was good to hear her laugh. Sure, the galaxy might be coming to an end, but what really mattered to him was her. He could see the strain, the bags under her eyes, the exhaustion and general toll this war was taking on her. She was unraveling, stretching herself too thin… a laugh and a good night’s sleep were rare, and he was thankful for them, whenever they happened. “Really, though. I’m asking.”
"Well…" Another flick of his mandibles, and before she could realize what was going on, he had rolled over and pinned her down under his weight. "… is no underwear a valid answer, Commander?” His voice had dropped to a low, growling tone, still playful but with an undertone that clearly said he had another type of game in mind.
"Unacceptable, Advisor. But I’m willing to let it slide just this once…” She gave him a look through her eyelashes, lips curled into a lopsided smirk.
The game was afoot and they had lingerie to blame for it. Except, this time at least, it was not in the conventional way.
Then again, who could ever say that the Shepard-Vakarian duo was conventional?
