"The Care & Feeding of Spectres" -- 3a/? -- FShep/OC!M!Turian
anonymous
February 2 2013, 02:16:16 UTC
Silus is nearing the end of his double-shift, and he’s looking forward to going home and sleeping when he sees her. The human from the previous night, the one he found sleeping in Councilor Udina’s office. He’d been confused, but hadn’t questioned it; the doors to the embassies are very well secured, and it takes proper identification to even open them. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.
It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the slight woman who’d nearly killed him in her sleep was the infamous Commander Shepard. There were only so many humans with skills like that. And of those humans, even less were female. And that trademark red hair, yes, he’d figured out it was Commander Shepard fairly quickly. But that hadn’t been until later, when he’d had time to think over the situation. At the time, he’d been more concerned with having come so close to death.
But Commander Shepard was legendary. She was a human war hero, and the first human Spectre. She’s all over the news vids, always getting praised for some new act of heroism or another. He was a big fan of her work, following the news and rooting for her from a distance. He’d dismissed their encounter as a one-off. He’d run into her by chance, and would probably never encounter her again, which was probably a good thing.
He’s walking through the Citadel Tower, cleaning up the mess left by an argument between the elcor ambassador and an angry hanar, and she’s sitting on his favorite bench. She’s slouched forward, her head cradled in her hands, and he can’t resist checking on her.
“Ma’am?” He asks, trying to keep his voice steady, to avoid embarrassing himself in front of her. “Are you alright?”
Her head snaps up, her gaze levels on him. He sees a flash of surprise and anger before she visibly calms herself, her face easing into a smile.
“Silus, right?” She remembers his name? She remembers his name! He’s pleasantly surprised by this revelation; he had expected that he was beneath her notice.
“Yes,” he hovers, unsure whether he should take a seat beside her or remain standing as he is. She seems to notice, and pats the bench beside herself. He sits. Her smile widens. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He sees through the lie, knows she’s saying it because it’s expected of her. He debates calling her on it, but decides to let it rest. He doesn’t know her well enough to press the topic. Sure, he knows of her, she’s Commander Shepard of the Normandy, she’s legendary. But he doesn’t know her, the woman sitting beside him looking like she’s had a hard day.
He catches her watching him out of the corner of her eye, and he squirms self-consciously. He wonders what she’s thinking, if she’s pondering how ugly he is. It’s not like it matters, Shepard is so far beyond him that it’s folly to even think on the topic, but he still can’t help adjusting his position so she sees him from the best possible angle, the one where his waist looks trimmer, his shoulders a bit less broad.
“So,” He clears his throat nervously, “Long day?”
“You could say that, yeah.” She leans back, her head falling back against her shoulders, exposing the long column of smooth skin on her throat to him. It’s erotic, and it’s got him thinking thoughts that he has no business thinking about someone like her. He shifts his position uncomfortably, hoping she doesn’t recognize signs of turian arousal.
She’s got Garrus Vakarian on her ship, galaxy’s prettiest turian. If she can resist him then Silus has no chance at all. It’s a cold reminder, one that makes it easier to calm himself. Knowing he doesn’t have a chance helps him to ease the ache.
"The Care & Feeding of Spectres" -- 3b/? -- FShep/OC!M!Turian
anonymous
February 2 2013, 02:16:54 UTC
“Do you want to talk about it?” He’s carefully not looking at her, afraid he’ll make things more awkward if he continues staring at her the way he knows he will if he doesn’t look away.
“No, but I appreciate the offer.” She rises to her feet, and offers him her hand. He stares at it for a long moment before remembering the human handshake. He shakes her hand, and she laughs, maintaining a grip on him and tugging him to his feet. He’s so close to her that he can smell her, a combination of human and something else. Her eyes catch his, her lips twitch knowingly, and he’s so lost that he can’t bear it.
And then she’s stepping away, and he’s reeling, trying to decide if she’s messing with him or what.
“Thank you, Silus.” Her smile is softer, more innocent. There’s less of the predator in this smile, and he’s still off balance, trying to reconcile the knowing look she’s given him with the softness of this smile. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
And then she’s walking away, and there’s a twitch in her hips that has him staring in her direction long after she’s gone.
Re: "The Care & Feeding of Spectres" -- 3b/? -- FShep/OC!M!Turian
anonymous
February 3 2013, 09:25:58 UTC
Oh my god the part where he's comparing himself to Garrus and feeling horribly inadequate had me cooing like a mourning dove. Big homley sweetheart turian guys forever!
It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the slight woman who’d nearly killed him in her sleep was the infamous Commander Shepard. There were only so many humans with skills like that. And of those humans, even less were female. And that trademark red hair, yes, he’d figured out it was Commander Shepard fairly quickly. But that hadn’t been until later, when he’d had time to think over the situation. At the time, he’d been more concerned with having come so close to death.
But Commander Shepard was legendary. She was a human war hero, and the first human Spectre. She’s all over the news vids, always getting praised for some new act of heroism or another. He was a big fan of her work, following the news and rooting for her from a distance. He’d dismissed their encounter as a one-off. He’d run into her by chance, and would probably never encounter her again, which was probably a good thing.
He’s walking through the Citadel Tower, cleaning up the mess left by an argument between the elcor ambassador and an angry hanar, and she’s sitting on his favorite bench. She’s slouched forward, her head cradled in her hands, and he can’t resist checking on her.
“Ma’am?” He asks, trying to keep his voice steady, to avoid embarrassing himself in front of her. “Are you alright?”
Her head snaps up, her gaze levels on him. He sees a flash of surprise and anger before she visibly calms herself, her face easing into a smile.
“Silus, right?” She remembers his name? She remembers his name! He’s pleasantly surprised by this revelation; he had expected that he was beneath her notice.
“Yes,” he hovers, unsure whether he should take a seat beside her or remain standing as he is. She seems to notice, and pats the bench beside herself. He sits. Her smile widens. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He sees through the lie, knows she’s saying it because it’s expected of her. He debates calling her on it, but decides to let it rest. He doesn’t know her well enough to press the topic. Sure, he knows of her, she’s Commander Shepard of the Normandy, she’s legendary. But he doesn’t know her, the woman sitting beside him looking like she’s had a hard day.
He catches her watching him out of the corner of her eye, and he squirms self-consciously. He wonders what she’s thinking, if she’s pondering how ugly he is. It’s not like it matters, Shepard is so far beyond him that it’s folly to even think on the topic, but he still can’t help adjusting his position so she sees him from the best possible angle, the one where his waist looks trimmer, his shoulders a bit less broad.
“So,” He clears his throat nervously, “Long day?”
“You could say that, yeah.” She leans back, her head falling back against her shoulders, exposing the long column of smooth skin on her throat to him. It’s erotic, and it’s got him thinking thoughts that he has no business thinking about someone like her. He shifts his position uncomfortably, hoping she doesn’t recognize signs of turian arousal.
She’s got Garrus Vakarian on her ship, galaxy’s prettiest turian. If she can resist him then Silus has no chance at all. It’s a cold reminder, one that makes it easier to calm himself. Knowing he doesn’t have a chance helps him to ease the ache.
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“No, but I appreciate the offer.” She rises to her feet, and offers him her hand. He stares at it for a long moment before remembering the human handshake. He shakes her hand, and she laughs, maintaining a grip on him and tugging him to his feet. He’s so close to her that he can smell her, a combination of human and something else. Her eyes catch his, her lips twitch knowingly, and he’s so lost that he can’t bear it.
And then she’s stepping away, and he’s reeling, trying to decide if she’s messing with him or what.
“Thank you, Silus.” Her smile is softer, more innocent. There’s less of the predator in this smile, and he’s still off balance, trying to reconcile the knowing look she’s given him with the softness of this smile. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
And then she’s walking away, and there’s a twitch in her hips that has him staring in her direction long after she’s gone.
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