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Last Shot

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The air practically crackles as Shepard ejects the heat sink from the Vindicator before slinging it over her shoulder. She's breathing hard, but not because of the firefight; no, she could take on a whole new wave of those damn Eclipse mercs, but there's not a single one left standing on the battlefield. Too bad. She's practically twitching, her skin too alive, every sense turned up to the max.

"Never saw us coming, eh, Shepard?"

The deep, multitonal rumble of Garrus's voice hits her in a funny way, and when he smacks her shoulder affably, she reacts on pure instinct. She grabs his wrist and throws him over, her already cybernetically-boosted strength amped by adrenaline, and then she's on him, one knee in the middle of his breastplate, pressing down.

He has time to make a startled protest--"Shepard, it's me!"--before she mashes him down into the ground with a kiss, stupid and pointless against his mouth-plates. She can never help herself--she loves to taste him. Turns her face and nuzzles her jaw against his mandible and feels him all but vibrate against her as he lets out a dual-toned moan. He's as wound up as she is, and she's winding him up more, she can tell. He's reaching around her, crushing her to him, mandibles working against her skin, mouth nipping at her jawline, the codpiece of his armor clanging against hers.

She laughs so she doesn't do something stupid like moan wantonly and straightens up.

"Better get back to the shuttle," she says, even though the last thing she wants to do is get off of Garrus. She jerks her thumb in the direction of the Kodiak. "Be pretty embarrassing if we got shot in the back by some straggler while I'm fucking you into the dirt."

Garrus groans, his claws digging into the hips of her armor, his hips shifting upwards, against her. "Dammit, Shepard. You're doing this to me on purpose, aren't you?"

She grins and offers him a hand up. Even through their gloves, she feels something like electricity jolt up her arm as they touch, as she feels his strong grip crushing her fingers.

They get maybe three steps before he slams her into a nearby bit of cover--a slightly recessed nook with a terminal she recently hacked for a handful of credits--and she's alert, suddenly, reaching for the Vindicator, looking around for whatever enemy's spotted them. But before she can even get the weapon fully in her hands he's crushing her back into the terminal, rubbing up against her, the rasp of his breath hard in her ear.

"Let them shoot us," he growls into her neck. "I can't wait."

Garrus lifts her up so her ass is propped up on the terminal and Shepard grins against him, wrapping her hips around the slim line of his waist. "Fine," she says, grinding against him. "But be prepared to hobble back to the shuttle, Vakarian, because once I pop the seals on my armor I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

He drags the lower half of his mouth-plate against the front of her throat. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" he breathes, and the flanging of his voice makes her part her lips and kiss the curve of his cheekbone and whisper his name. She reaches down and finds the latches on his armor, at his waist and hips and along the sides of his greaves, kicks the pieces downwards carelessly. She pushes up the lower half of his uniform beneath and tugs downwards on his pants; when they won't come easily down she rips the fabric with a feral grin.

His laugh is half-appreciative, half-startled, and quickly aborted when she traces the Y-line of his guard-plates. Loose already, she likes that; opening up as she presses her thumb in harder, makes contact with the hot, hard swell of his cock. She eases him out, pumping her fist over the ridged, tapered shape of it. Garrus falls forward, biting at the shoulder of her armor, practically growling, thrusting against her hand and then against her hardsuit when she releases him.

She knows how he feels, fight-crazy, lust-crazy, rubbing against anything like a dog in heat.

"Get this off," Garrus says, scrabbling at the seals on the lower half of her suit, need making him clumsy. He cracks the seals on the lower half of her armor, and she undoes the rest, feels the hot humid air rush in to weight down her clothes beneath as the protection of her loin-guard falls away. She pushes down her pants as far as they'll go with her legs still wrapped around Garrus, yanks her panties to the side and out of the way. He swipes through them with his talons, shredding them, making her mouth curl. He lets his knuckles brush against the swollen wetness of her before he drops his hand to his side. It's enough to make her feel crazy. Her heart was going fast before as she danced that familiar dance, guard-sight-shot-guard-shot-command; but now it's pounding, now her blood's on fire, now she thinks she'll have to do some serious violence if Garrus doesn't fuck her, right now.

Shepard grabs his collar and pulls him hard up against her until his cock presses up against her, skin to skin. Shifts her hips to spread herself wider, press against him harder, let him feel how wet she is, the slickness of her, the hotness of her. How bad she wants him. He humps against her, rubbing his cock against her. Maybe she'll regret this later--she's probably chafing--but she doesn't care. She reaches down and helps him find the way in, and then he's in, deep inside, thrusting up all the way to the hilt. She wraps her arms tight around his neck and rides him back, giving as good as she gets. His breastplate digs into her and she shifts her grip, holds onto his collar, urges him on with words and orders and curses that he answers with a wordless, uniquely Turian sound, rumbling deep through her bones and all the way down to her cunt.

Somewhere in the distance shots crackle. She hears Garrus mutter, "Oh, shit," but she digs her fingers into the back of his neck, under his fringe, and says "Don't you stop!" And he doesn't--if anything he pounds into her harder, leaning her back into the wall in a way that puts perfect friction against her clit. She braces herself against the terminal and fucks him back, matches his rhythm, moves with him until she's so fucking hot she's sure she'll explode. She loses it, snarling out first his name and then a string of incoherent "Fuck"s, even as the gunfire draws closer.

"Sheparddd!" She feels him spasm against her, clutching handfuls of her hair, his teeth scraping at her ear. "We're--going--to--get--killed--Ah--Ahhgh!" He jerks wordlessly, his cock swelling and then spilling inside her, his whole body shuddering.

She cracks an eye open as he slows down, recovering, still panting, and she sees the dusty yellow armor of an Eclipse engineer moving towards them. She tightens her legs around Garrus, drawing another moan from him, and slings the Vindicator in hand.

"Shepard--?"

Garrus jerks as she fires, but she keeps him in place with an arm wrapped around his neck and her ankles hooked against his ass. The merc falls with a heavy thud.

"Did you just--?" Garrus starts, sounding slightly stunned.

Shepard smiles. She leans down, mouths the softer, less-protected skin of Garrus's neck and whispers, "Just savoring my last shot." She bangs the assault rifle against Garrus's armored shoulder, and the heat sink pops out with a clunk and a hiss.