Chapter Text
No.
Nobody said “no” to Jack. Not gang members or cult leaders or even the mercs running that hellhole prison she was shut up in. One look at the biotic and people knew that she didn’t respond well to that word. The last person that had tried was one of the scientists back when she was still a kid. It took three guards with tranq guns and electroshock rods to get her off the dumbass. She didn’t quite get to kill him, but he never came back. Probably never walked right again either. That was what happened when someone told Jack no.
But not that fucking soldier.
Jack’s fingers were curled into the metal of a work bench, slowly denting the flat surface as her arms shook with barely contained frustration. It wasn’t just anger; that she would’ve been able to deal with easily enough. Fury chased confusion through her thoughts, twisted around shock and all of it wove together to block off the threads of disappointment that she absolutely refused to feel. Shepard said no. To sex, of all things! Jack was pretty sure that had never happened to her before.
Well, not exactly “no.” A small voice of reason at the back of all the loud, violent emotions kept popping up, trying to be heard. Shepard hadn’t rejected her. In fact, in her own strange, infuriating way, she’d flipped the situation around and turned her denial into a promise.
Bringing up sex was inevitable.
From the moment that Kasumi suggested Jack get herself laid, the idea had barely left her alone. It slipped wickedly behind her thoughts, listened for the hints and signals of Shepard’s interest, darted her eyes over the soldier’s form with a new, intriguing appreciation. She’d always liked looking at the Commander, liked the back and forth of teasing insults, bullshit and threats that probably amounted to flirtation in their privacy beneath Engineering. But now there was a flicker of curiosity behind her gaze when she drank in the soldier’s mouth, deliciously curved in laughter. Now there was an uncomfortable throb in her core when she heard Shepard’s voice, wondered how she sounded when she was breathless, imagined hearing her beg. It would be so easy to fling all the tools off the derelict work bench, to seize the soldier’s body and mouth and fight for the right to make her scream first.
The demand had shot out of her unexpectedly; rude and confrontational as everything else that came out of her mouth, more challenge than seduction, but the invitation was the same either way. Shepard had been giving the right signals and Jack’s itch had turned into a full-body fever. No point in beating around the bush. (Not with clothes on, anyway.)
As her words echoed off silent metal, waiting for the Commander to reply, Jack had a flash of doubt that maybe she’d read the situation wrong. Maybe all the long looks and flirting hints were just another fucked up game that people played. Fine. Either way, she needed to know. The biotic was sick to death of trying to figure out just what the soldier wanted from her. If this was just about sex then she could handle it, she knew what to do; needed it, even. But if that wasn’t what Shepard wanted. . .
“I’m in no hurry. I want to know what makes you tick, first,” the Commander shrugged. The nonchalant, honest answer was everything and nothing at once. It confirmed all of Jack’s suspicions, but refused to give her what she was after. The malicious, excited flash of triumph had barely sparked before it faded into angry, frustrated confusion. They both wanted this, so why did Shepard have to be such a damn stubborn idiot about it?
“You don’t need to know someone to sleep with them. You just have to know where to put it,” Jack spat the challenge, daring the soldier to let the accusation pass.
She’d seen Shepard get angry before, knew how to push the button that fired up the soldier’s sense of righteous indignation. She wasn’t disappointed when the Commander spun on her with the same speed that would launch a lethal assault in battle. Jack’s muscles coiled, ready for attack but held her ground as the soldier stormed into her space, looming directly over her. She could feel the heat radiating off her, intense as the sound of her ragged breaths holding back words. For the space of a breath, heart beating loud in her ears, Jack wondered if she’d pushed too far or just far enough. She could see the danger in Shepard’s eyes, the urge to throw her against the wall and make her apologize in a moan. The threat made her pride rise like a snarl on her tongue, but also pulled her unconsciously closer, the boiling heat of her blood pooling into her belly and seeping lower.
Shepard’s fists were balled at her sides, either preparing an attack or reining it in. From this close, Jack could feel her biotics purring, reaching for the Commander. A crackling, electric echo told her that Shepard felt it too. She was close enough that a deep breath would have them touching; so close that Jack could lick her lips and taste the scent of the soldier’s sweat, maybe even the other heavy fragrance climbing into the air around them as well. Any second now. In this heartbeat or the next Shepard was going to give in; going to grab her, drag her to the floor and prove exactly what this was all about and make it go away. Jack’s muscles were trembling from the effort of keeping her mass effect fields under control. Would she just hurry the fuck up and -!
“I know where, Jack,” the Commander’s voice was thick and low, full of a promise that was sweet and terrifying all at once, “And how. How hard, how fast, how long. That’s not ever going to be a problem.”
“Then what the fuck is?” The biotic hated that her voice hitched slightly, breaking as she imagined what Shepard wanted her to see.
“That I also know when not to. It isn’t the right thing for you now.” The Commander took a decisive step back, severing any hope of following through on all those wicked ideas.
“Don’t you dare pretend to know me, Shepard.” Jack was grateful that her sudden burst of rage silenced the disappointment clenching her chest.
“Ok, I don’t,” the soldier admitted, yielding a little too easily but never breaking the gaze that had locked onto Jack’s eyes like a stasis field holding her in place, “But I will. I’m learning a little more about you every day. You haven’t scared me yet, and I’m ready for more anytime you’re ready to give it. That’s the real problem, Jack, I know what I want. Do you?”
All her sharp retorts and biting curses turned to rock in the biotic’s throat, then crumbled to ash and vanished. Thirty seconds ago she knew that answer. She’d always known what she wanted: survive, kill, use this shitty life and its pleasures to the full, and never, ever let anyone hurt her again. It wasn’t a grand purpose but it had worked. Until now. Now a storm of other desires that she would’ve laughed at or blown to pieces were rising up in the cracks of her thoughts and didn’t seem as ridiculous as they had before.
They all started somewhere in this moment, or maybe a few weeks ago, and threaded through ideas of naked skin, tracing scars, the taste of sex and metal and this whole damn alcove echoing with their sounds. What frightened her was the fact that none of it stopped there. Tendrils of imagination crept further, unbidden, towards a hazy tomorrow. The thought of fucking Shepard once turned into again, and then again and again until she didn’t actually want to fuck anyone else. The metal decking in her mind gave way to tangled sheets; screaming profanity turned unmistakably breathless, drifting dangerously close to sighs. Jack’s thoughts recoiled in horror at the impossible fantasy that had seeped out of the same shadows that usually housed bloody death and revenge. Her deepest desires had never scared her before. Now they did.
“That’s what I thought.” Shepard’s faint smile was patient, bittersweet in understanding. “Let me know when you figure out what you want, Jack. I can wait.”
The way she said it, like she already knew what the other woman was going to decide!
No doubt about it. The soldier had a quad.
No matter how badly Jack wanted to simply be angry and insulted, a tiny part of her couldn’t help being impressed. Impressed and a little pleased. Granted, she didn’t get the good, hard fuck that her humming nerves and aching muscles were telling her she needed; but she got a promise. She got to see the dark swirl of desire suck up the color in Shepard’s eyes and the laughter vanish from her voice. The Commander’s discipline had cracked, her control was shaken and, for a split second, Jack saw the sheer depth and intensity of naked want in the woman. Just the memory of that look made her breath catch.
The hum beneath Jack’s skin was at an all-time high. She felt like her insides were vibrating so hard she was going to shake her teeth loose. She hadn’t connected the dots before, but now it was as obvious as a bullet between the eyes: it was her attraction to Shepard that made her wiring go nuts, electrical signals shooting in every direction like fireworks going off in her bones. Jack didn’t get attracted to people, (and she certainly never used that word) she saw nothing but dangers and tricks in everyone, potential body counts. Right now, however, the buzzing eezo coursing along her nerves argued that there was a first time for everything. Wound up, turned on, horny as hell; by whatever phrase she used, the fact was still the same. You need to get laid, Kasumi’s lilting advice laughed from within her head. Even if Jack was secretly pleased on some twisted, deeply irrational and utterly subconscious level that the Commander wanted more than a quick fuck; that didn’t change the fact that the biotic’s body was primed for sex and she wasn’t getting any.
“Shit.” Jack flung herself onto her bunk and yanked her pants open. There wasn’t anyone else on this god-forsaken ship she was interested in using and if she didn’t do something to release all this built up energy she was going to explode.
One hand slid between her legs, meeting bare skin that was already hot and pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She growled, feeling the wetness on her fingers and the jolt of surprise that jerked her hips when she slid deeper. Too sensitive, too damn excited. It had been over an hour since the soldier left, how was she still this turned on? The answer, as it had so many times before, floated up behind her eyes with smug pity: because it was Shepard.
Fuck her!
Jack, contrary to that thought, stilled her hand completely. She bit into her lip, tasting blood and waiting for the pain to focus her mind. Not fucking Shepard. The goddamn Girl Scout had missed her chance. No way was she going to finger herself to thoughts of the Commander. Not her mouth or voice, not the heat in her eyes or the grip that pressed against Jack’s skin and pulled out every amp of electricity she had racing through her body. Not. Shepard.
Who did that leave? Jack’s fingers glided through the slickness between her legs, little more than a reminder of her purpose. Kasumi was out; too hard to fantasize about someone when you could barely see their eyes. Thane was too depressing. Garrus wasn’t bad but Jack had already screwed her lifetime’s supply of turians. Samara was hot, too bad she was about as interesting as a chunk of pretty rock. Jacob – no. Jack was just starting to think she’d have to settle for the cute engineer that was always tiptoeing around over her head when one another face swam into her mind’s eye.
Miranda. Yeah, why not? Hate could be hot. Cerberus bitch would look good down on her knees. She was a biotic too, so she’d probably know Jack’s favorite trick. The convict concentrated along her hand, letting the electricity flow over her wrist until light blue wisps wreathed all her fingers. The low vibration was pleasant, nestled there against her sex, but all too quickly she wanted more. Yes, Miranda looked like she knew her way around biotics and the bedroom. She had that buried, kinky vibe. She’d definitely know how to do this.
Jack let her head fall back against the wall behind her bunk, imagining dark brown hair strewn messily across her thighs. The Cheerleader would complain and snark and probably try to fight, but she’d end up knuckle deep in her enemy all the same. A low growl fell from Jack’s lips as she began moving her fingers, finding the angle and speed that coaxed the waves of pleasure to rise more quickly, spread further, break harder in her throat when she gasped. She arched her back, meeting the hard surface of the wall. Except it wasn’t the wall anymore. Sweat was forming in prickling drops at the base of her spine and Jack felt Shepard’s armor behind her, cold and unyielding as she pressed into it. Her own panting echoed off the walls of the alcove, bouncing back to her as the soldier’s shallow breath against her ear, ragged sighs interspersed with stifled whispers.
Jack didn’t realize her fingers had stopped their biotic buzz. She’d stopped imagining Miranda on the floor between her knees, gripped instead by the memory of the soldier clutching her tight in her arms. Her hips rose to meet each desperate thrust, wondering how many fingers Shepard would use. She’d know how to be rough. Sure, she played the polite, gentle do-gooder but Jack had seen past that today. There was a desperate passion locked behind all that control, begging to be set free, aching to take every inch of Jack’s body and make her shatter to pieces. She would fuck her. Hard. Jack moaned, riding her fingers faster, breath coming in broken pants and she could feel the straps of her harness biting a wide bruise into her back where it was pinned between hull and skin.
Her free hand snaked down across her stomach, fingers spread wide over the clenching muscle. She remembered the feel of Shepard’s hand in the same spot, holding her so tightly, pulling her close. That strength could hold her in place, no matter how her body thrashed or her biotics threatened to break free. Jack’s nails dug into flesh, mirroring the sting of the soldier’s bruising grip as she pressed forward, grinding into the palm of the hand pleasuring her.
Fuck . . .Shepard, like that . . .harder . .
The cold metal at her back was a sharp contrast to the heat burning all over her skin and the air was heavy with her scent. Wetness over her fingers increased with each stroke as she hit the perfect spot inside herself and silently moaned her imaginary lover’s name every time.
Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop . . . fuck, fuckShepardfuck –
“Fuck!” The climax caught her by surprise, snapping her back into a rigid arch as all her muscles clamped down. The world was wreathed in blue light, arcing around her in every direction before exploding outward in a pulsating wave that matched the spasms of her body. Her inner walls clamped so tight it felt like she was going to break her own hand but Jack couldn’t think about the pain, couldn’t feel anything beyond the rolling pleasure like white noise roaring across her senses.
She dropped back against the bunk, collapsing to one side with her fingers still buried between her legs, vaguely aware of the sticky release dribbling over her wrist and smearing her thighs. Jack had never come that fast from her own touch. Certainly never that hard. She started to pull her hand away but the movement within her clenching inner walls set off another violent aftershock and she trembled against the thin mattress, groaning in surrender.
It was several minutes before her breathing had evened out of the ragged gasps that echoed for so long off the dark metal walls. She didn’t have the energy to sit up, but even sprawled out on the bunk as she was, she could see that tools from the work bench had been sent flying. One digital calibration tool was embedded halfway through the hull. Another had been twisted into an impossible shape. Obviously, she’d succeeded in releasing some of her excess energy.
It didn’t feel like much of a victory. Recalling the images that had played behind her mind in the seconds before her muscles snapped and succumbed to ecstasy only underscored a sense of helpless surrender. Shepard didn’t even have to be present in person. Jack’s longing conjured her out of thin air and her body responded as if the soldier was right there, coaxing her to the most powerful high she could remember in years. The Commander’s face drifted behind Jack’s eyes and she clenched her jaw, stifling a frustrated moan of defeat. Shepard hadn’t even been here to fuck her, yet she was well and truly fucked.