The Translation in Blood

Something foreign and irritating had her twitching too early.

Hannah swatted at the air, mumbling at it to GO AWAY.

It was persistent, however.

She tried to open her eyes, but it hurt-

There was a low, rumbling growl and Hannah was dragged back and away from the blinding pain, into the warm, cool dark.

As Sparatus nuzzled the underside of her jaw, Hannah attempted yet again to open her eyes. In the shadowed safety of their overhang, it was easier and much less painful.

The ravine stretches from east to west, and it was the morning sun pouring into the crevice, glinting across water and bringing to light what was hidden by night before. Vegetation, lush and thriving, belied the desert savannah that covered most of the planet. Here, it was cool and pleasantly humid, the ripple of water a nice background to the wind that whistled through here now and again.

As she struggled to lean out and look around, the Turian nestled in behind her was grumbling at her under his breath as she squirmed and twisted and scooted further and further away from him. Eventually, he grew tired of this and snagged her around her waist, dragging her back as she squeaked indignantly. Flipped to her back, he nuzzled into her throat and drew breathtaking patterns down her thighs with his talons.

When he settled between them and drew them wider, Hannah had about a moment to register the beautiful, wicked green of his eyes before he slid into her.

Startled, she cried out and arched beneath him, nails digging into his elbows as he purred happily, rumbling at her as his mandibles flickered over the curve of her breast. His teeth parted to scrape across her nipple and she hissed a tender curse.

A laugh reverberated deep within his chest as he settled on her, his weight on his elbows as his torso curved above her chest, fingers combing through her hair before clenching into fists to keep her trapped under his gaze.

He growled her name.

To say it made her 'happy' to hear it was an understatement; her responsive clench around him had his eyes go wide and his mouth go slack. His hips responded too, rolling forward and back in an easy, gliding rhythm. It was enough to make Hannah incredibly noisy.

The white noise of the water masked most of her sounds, but he seemed to take great pleasure in muffling her; his mouth descended and his tongue swept in, groaning into her lips as he pumped and pushed harder and harder.

It was a great way to wake up.

He stretched it out forever, slowing and easing up, pushing hard only to stop again. She was besides herself with impatience, frustration, and mind-numbing pleasure; how was he even doing this?

He flipped her to her side and had her top leg stretched out and up over his shoulder, straddling her other thigh, buried and deep and the most satisfying sensation she'd ever experienced. Hannah was clawing at the wall somewhere above her head, panting desperately as Sparatus pumped and pushed and grunted above her.

He liked her waist from this angle, she could tell; he kept stroking the fingers of his free hand from her shoulders, down her back, and over the curve of her rump. Up and down he did it, over and over, and then he was squeezing her side, right above her hipbone. Gentle squeezes became more insistent as he sped up and fucked harder, and poor Hannah was wailing by the time he actually took a good grip of thigh and waist and slammed into her. Her throat felt raw and her nerves throbbed, and when he went still and began to release inside her, she lost it.

Her back arched, body curving against the ground, and he moaned at the sight of her. She was vaguely aware of his hands traveling up and down her body, tugging her hair at the scalp, cupping and squeezing her breasts. Wracked with tremors, she went limp with a whimper, a trembling hand gripping his wrist, the other covering her panting, flushed face.

When he eased from her and settled beside her, she moaned when his hands drew her to him and into the shape of his body.

When Hannah managed to find her breath again, she swore plaintively at him. "How. The hell... do you ... KNOW how to... DO THAT to... me..." she panted.

His responsive chuckle made her squirm. "Body scans," he replied breathlessly. "Your nerve endings are similar to a variety of species in Council space... bundled and concentrated in some areas more than others...." He drew a careful talon down along her arm, teasing across her fingertips and then across her palm. She shivered.

His hands inevitably went back to her hair, stroking through the tangled mass with a pleased, resonant mumble. "And this ... this is lovely..." he purred. "The first time I saw you pull it down, I thought the scent of you would drive me to distraction."

She twitched at that, then lifted her head to look him right in the eye. "That reminds me." And she nudged him in the abdomen in that one place he told her would be the most sensitive. She was gentle, but it made him jerk and widen his eyes at her in surprise. "Why didn't you upload the translation program earlier?"

He blinked at her once, and then tilted his head away to stare at her shoulder. He rubbed at it gently, a nervous affection.

-affection...?

"I ... don't know." He returned his eyes to her. "I was unsure how this would all play out, in all honesty. This is a strange circumstance to be in, stranger still that I am ... we are so accepting about all of this." He shifted against her, bringing his head down as his voice dropped down to a soft murmur to ask: "Are you angry with me?"

His posture denoted acceptance, apology, and entreadty; maybe it was less about growing accustomed to Turian body language, and more about accepting that so many body cues were indeed universal.

She considered his question seriously, contemplating their days together and their moments of trust. Why didn't he trust her sooner? But she knew the answer to that; they were supposed to be enemies, not attracted to each other, let alone lovers.

Why wasn't she more freaked about this?

"No," she said with a small sigh. "No, I'm not mad at you. It's hard to be when- hey- ow! ...what are you doing? That's starting to hurt!"

She was looking at the thumb he had rubbing circles into her clavicle, and he was frowning at the spot. She peered down to see what he saw, but the only thing on her skin, minus the red chafing from his rubbing, were little bits of moss getting ground and smeared into her flesh. She hissed and covered his hand. "Hey!" she yelped. "That hurts!"

He frowned. "I'm trying to get it off you."

She blinked at him, then looked at her skin again. She didn't see anything except flecks of dark green moss. "Get what off me? The lichen?"

He looked up at her, brow plates furrowing more. "You can't see it?"

She peered at her flesh. "Just the vegetable you're rubbing into my skin. Why? What do you see?"

His brows shot up with interest, and he peered at the stuff they slept on again. Gathering a pinch of the stuff, he rubbed it between his fingers, then held them out to her. "You can't see the white? It's almost glowing. See? There, and there, three little droplets."

Hannah saw the droplets but they looked like water to her, clear and thin. She shrugged. "I see no white." She watched the way the dripped slow down his spread fingers, how the muscles in his fore-arms flexed when he rolled his wrist. Her hand ran down to follow their path, stroking up his bicep to smooth her five-fingers across the bony cowel that guarded his throat. He continued to stay distracted from her, however, and she decided to amp up the game.

And test a few theories.

He squinted his eyes at the little drops and the moisture left in their wake. "Interesting. I wonder if it's something only within Turian visibi-"

His words were cut off by a soft groan; Hannah was running her hands down his lean, muscled waist, around his hips and then up, slowly, between the seam of his thighs. "What... what are you-" he squirmed, and she was pleased to see his eyes both dilate and widen in pleasure and surprise.

She giggled and pressed a finger between the loosening plates she'd seen by lichen light those days ago. She understood better what it was now. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, mmm?" Her smile at his low growl and tightening grip on her elbows was positively devious. "I figured out how to take body scans two nights ago. Now..." she murmured, leaning up to run her tongue along a spasm mandible. "Let's see if I got this right..."

Yes. It was a really good morning.

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