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Garrus' Apartment: Citadel 06:12

"I don't expect an explanation," he heard Shepard say as he snapped the leg plates of his armor into place. "Without the say of of the Council, you are not getting on board my ship. I don't care if it's Cerberus tech, it is not being used for those reasons."

Eyes following her as she stalked across the room, already in full armor herself and ready to be Commander Shepard again, Garrus watched as she ran her hand through her hair aimlessly before releasing a low sigh. "Look, I would let you on board under normal circumstances. This is nothing about me trying to hide secrets, and I would be more than happy to have EDI transfer every bit of tech we have to your database, but we are leaving dock in less than two hours. There is not enough time for you have a team of engineers picking through systems that have just been repaired to begin with."

Not even trying to hold back his grin as he locked his gloves into place, the turian pulled himself up from the bed to stand beside her as she turned a pained look towards him. It wasn't real pain, while he might have mistaken it for such before he had met Shepard, but melodramatic pain that he understood to mean she wanted to reach through her communicator and choke the person on the other end. It wasn't that which drew his attention the most, however. Commander Shepard was back. She was back, but without the listless sense of crushing weight uncertainty she had carried from the moment the Collector base had been destroyed.

No, there was fire in her eyes now. The same fire he had seen when she had passionately explained that she would stop Saren, defeat the Reapers, no matter what the cost. Back in the days when he had been stunned to find that, even when she would have given anything to reach her goal she had still maintained a level of honor and lawfulness that had left many who had met her with more respect for the Specters than they had ever felt before. Back in the days when a Reaper had fallen on her head, and she had limped out with a broken arm and a few dozen bruises but alive against all odds.

That fire, that life was there now as she ended the call with some human admiral or another. A curt agreement that when they next docked, the techs could have free run of the Normandy as long as nothing was changed ended the conversation and she cut the link before blue eyes rested on him. Her stance was that of his Commander. Her eyes were those of his mate, with a totally different sort of fire. One likely born from the fact that she was still walking with a bit of a limp.

"I wonder if anyone will notice that," he commented, trying to keep the most absent and unconcerned tone of voice he could manage as he played at adjusting his armor while watching her with twitching mandibles.

"You are aware that we're on duty again, Officer Vakarian," she stated in an almost all business tone, holding just enough of an edge of humor to it to let him know that she was open to more playing. They were not actually on duty until they reached the Normandy. Everything in between now and then was fair game.

"Of course, Commander." Playing along in his own way, his stance changing to stiff Turian military ease; hands clasped behind his back, head tilted upward slightly with his mandibles kept neatly against his jaw. Choosing the keep his comment on how her eyes travels over him when he did this to himself, he kept his eyes straight ahead like any good soldier. "Shall I begin by debriefing you on the events of last night? There were some spots where I wasn't sure I would make it."

Because they were alone, the hint of a blush that started to come over her crept up in only a light shade on her cheeks and she managed to keep a straight face as she walked towards him. One hand ran along the armor that covered his chest, and as he struggled to remain still, the turian was more than aware of the fact that her hand wandered down further than it should have. Even if the armor prevented him from feeling anything at all in that area, the implication of what he could feel her doing made him shift a bit in place. "Maybe later, solider. We can go over the events of our shower next time we're off duty."

He knew that she was trying to get a rise out of him, and he was surprised that he was able to keep his face impassive when he turned his eyes to her. Holding strict control, as tightly as possible because having an erection inside of heavy battle armor was not at all comfortable. "Which time? I seem to remember ending up in the shower three times."

His mandibles finally relaxed into a grin when she smirked at him, moving her hand once more to pat him on the chest twice before she backed away slightly. "That's not my fault. I seem to have a weakness for hot alien men soaking wet and growling in my ear. I'm allowed my vices."

If anyone was allowed a vice or two, he figured it would be her. His head cocked to the side in an almost bird like manor for a moment as the two of them shared a grin before he dropped the militaristic act and stepped over to the far wall to retrieve his rifle. The fact that he had a mount on the wall for various types of weapons had not been a surprise to her. The fact that there was an image of her on the table below that rack had been, given the fact that he had not returned to his apartment since her death. When she had questioned him about it, he had felt a distinct desire to play it down. He didn't want her to think he was some turian stalker, obsessing over his superior officer and holding her like some idol of war. But playing it down seemed to disappoint her, so he had quickly corrected himself.

Look, Jane. You have to understand. You were like a mentor to me, someone I could look up to. When I wanted revenge, you taught me the difference between that and justice. Taught me that the quick, violent method is not always the right one. I had seen you do things that even I thought were not possible, and you did them without loosing your need to do what was right. I felt like you were so far away, but you talked to me as a person.

And honestly the idea of being more than friends didn't cross my mind until you brought the subject up for me. Human. Turian. Together? But I was just fooling myself. Convinced that because you were human, it was impossible. So convinced, I didn't even realize why I stared at your picture at night after you died. Didn't realize, until I saw you cross the bridge in Omega that most of who I was had died when you did. I wasn't there to kill mercs, and I wasn't there for justice. I was there to kill what little of me was left without you.

While he had noticed her disappointment at his dismissal of the picture, he had not expected to see tears brimming in reply to his confession. They had not fall, however. Her insistent kissing and touching had made certain of that. It was the one time that night when she had taken control, and he had allowed her. He wasn't even sure which one of them had needed comfort in that moment, but they had both taken it.

He looked down at the picture now as he snapped his sniper rifle to the back of his armor. It was one taken in his last days on the Normandy SR1, before he had left the crew to enter Specter training. Training he had never started, as the word of her death came before he even received a reply to the application.

In the picture, she was smiling at the one taking the picture. Smiling at him. This was why he kept the picture, and why it had affected him so after her death. She wasn't smiling because she knew he was taking a picture of her. She was smiling at him with those blue eyes sparkling, watching him as she walked...

"Hey, Garrus? You might be interested in knowing that the real thing is standing right beside you. Or would you like me to leave you and myself alone for a little while longer?" Her gently teasing tone drew his gaze from her image to her in the flesh, her warm smile now a lightly teasing smirk. "You still have fifteen minutes before you need to head back. You feeling the need to take that into the bathroom and daydream in private?"

As long as it had been and as much as they had done, he found himself in moments where he couldn't believe she was alive, talking, fighting, standing beside him. And most stunning of all, apparently as in love with him as he was with her. And now joking with him, as he playfully narrowed his gaze. "Why would I take the picture into the bathroom when I can just take you?"

She gave a (very un-lady like, he noted) snort in reply to his words as she checked the status of her own weapons out of habit while glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. "You can take me anywhere you want," she said with a sly grin turning her lips upward when his mandibles twitched once, followed by a short but obvious growl rising in his throat. She let the click of her sub machine-gun's heat sink snap him out of it before she patted the blue armor over his chest. "Though we might want to wait on that. I'm mostly certain that the Reapers are not going to stop themselves."

"And we have to get back to the Normandy," he added as she drew back, drawing himself upright. "I would trust Miranda with the repairs and general operations, but I'm not so sure about some others. I'm not sure how you managed to keep Jack from starting an all our brawl with her, but now that the mission is over..."

He could tell that the subject caught her attention. Knowing Shepard and how she got to know her crew was one thing. But he had felt from the start that Shepard had formed some sort of connection with the broken girl who had never been allowed the chance at a normal life. Had reached her, on more than one level. Watching her stop Jack, who had never had any trouble killing anything, from killing someone who wanted to restart everything that haunted her? It would have amazed anyone, and it may have saved what little sanity had been left in the biotic. But this would not be the first time she had wondered whether or not the tattooed biotic would remain after all was said and done with the Collectors. Before leave, Shepard had made it clear that anyone who wanted to leave, could leave. No questions, no expectations, no guilt.

But one way or the other, he knew that the question would be answered once they returned to the Normandy.

---

"If you would give me a moment to explain..." The voice, with it's unmistakable accent belonged to Miranda. How it was that woman walked around looking like the cover girl for every intergalactic swim suit catalog, had a voice that sounded like it belonged in every teenage male's wet dreams, but was still able tear a Collector apart with her mind was sometimes beyond Shepard. The fact that she been bred to be perfect was obvious, in her biotic strength and physical skill as much as the way she looked. That didn't stop her from getting on Shepard's nerves every now and then, however.

"Explain what, cheerleader?" Wondering if Garrus could see the light brighten behind her eyes at the sound of the former convicts voice ringing through Operations, Shepard increased her pace. Those two were at each others throats again, which was no surprise at all. Stopping when she saw Jack, already aglow with biotic energy, ranting next to the holographic image of the galaxy with Miranda standing as calm as ever no more than a foot away. "Explain the fact that you've ejected my shit from the ship? That you took my fucking bed? Are you trying to give me a hint, bitch? Because Shepard said I could stay, and I have no fucking problem painting the deck with your pretty face if you think..."

"Stand down, Jack!" With as much confidence as she could push forward given her still slightly unsteady legs, she stormed towards the two of them until she was standing between them. She very quickly felt a rush of deja vu given the fact that she had been here before, and felt as exasperated as she was pleased that Jack was fighting for her place on the ship. That meant she was staying.

Holding the murder glaring biotic at arms length, Shepard turned to face Miranda. "Lawson, report."

With her constant poise and business like way of handling just about everything, it surprised Shepard when Miranda looked pained as her eyes came to rest on the Commander. Everything else about her was, as she had been called before, Ice Queen classic. Calm face, lips betraying nothing of her emotion as she stood straight and nodded. "Commander, there has been a misunderstanding. I was..."

"You were trying to slip me out the airlock while no one was looking! Damn it, Shepard," she began, starting to pace like a caged wild cat. "I came back from a nice, relaxing night getting trashed with Zaheed and Grunt, you know.. Teaching the tube lizard how to drink like an actual Krogan. And when I get back this morning, my fucking cot is gone! I'm gonna..!"

"Jack, I said stand down!" Shepard sighed in frustration, not a little bit of that coming from the fact that she knew Garrus was watching with an amused smirk behind her. Turning back to Miranda, she did not repeat herself, simply cocked an eyebrow as she folded her arms over her chest.

Trying again, Miranda continued in her ever composed tone. "Commander, I am well aware that you allowed Jack to remain on the Normandy. Given her performance against the Collectors, I felt it only fair that we provide her with a more comfortable bed."

That stopped Jack's pacing dead in it's tracks, and almost had Shepard pulling a double take. Damn it. Now she could feel Garrus' 'I told you so' smugness at her back. "You what?" Jack was obviously stunned, and suspicious at the same moment. They way her eyes narrowed on Miranda said that she didn't trust what they were being told and Shepard was ready to confirm it when, as if on cue, three crewmen in Cerberus uniforms walked by. Two of them carrying a mattress, and the one trailing behind struggling to carry the folded metal frame. It wasn't a luxury bed, but it was standard issue. No doubt more comfortable than the wire and cloth cot Jack had taken from the cargo hold when she had first come on board.

Miranda continued, as no one else seemed able to say anything at the moment. "I know that Jack doesn't ask for anything, and had I approached her about it she likely would have told me to... Ah.."

While she seemed to be searching for words that might have been less vulgar than Jack would have used, Garrus interjected with his first quip of the day. "Shove the bed up your Cerberus loving ass?"

"Yes, something like that. Thank you, Officer."

"Anytime."

Shaking her head slightly, Shepard turned her eyes back to Jack. The tattooed woman was eying the other, as if trying to decide what to make of her now. That ended when there was a loud clang, and cursing from the direction of the elevator. Snapping out of it, Jack turned on her heel, muttering 'Fuck' under her breath before yelling just as she turned the corner, "I'm pushing you all out an open airlock if my bed is broken!"

Shepard turned back to Miranda, who wore the smallest of smiles as she looked in the direction of the ex con, only to go all business again when she faced Shepard. "If there is nothing else at the moment, Commander. There is a report of repair status on the terminal in your quarters. Once you have settled in, if you have a free moment there are a few improvements I think we should look into purchasing on Illium."

Shepard, still trying to figure out exactly what she had seen a moment ago (Miranda? Being nice to Jack?) nodded simply before she glanced over her shoulder at Garrus, continuing on her way towards the elevator. Once inside, with Garrus standing beside her, she decided to speak before he could. "Ok, so you were right. I'm not totally convinced, and I still want to name our first dog after her."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In her quarters, on her private terminal, the light blinked with the messages for the day. Most were from Miranda or Kelly about ship operations, some were from comrades and friends who had heard that they had survived a trip through the Omega relay, and there was one from Alinko. The one that would catch her attention above all others would be the one that sent a chill of fear down her spine.

To: Commander Jane Shepard

Sender: SB

Subject: Information on Reaper movement into the Outer Rim

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Why did the Shadow Broker's agent want to meet us on Tucanka, anyway?" she heard him ask from just off to her left. "Not that we haven't seen our share of decimated planets, but I really could have gone for some think a little less... Krogan."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Grunt said from a few paces back. Shepard knew that since he had passed into adult hood, Grunt had taken a notion that this planet was his home, even though he had spent a total of four hours on the surface. She had listened to him speak often of his plan for a glorious return. When word had reached the Krogan of Grunt's participation in a trip through, and back from the Omega Relay after destroying the Collector base (a foe even the Krogan had to respect), the number of breeding requests had jumped into the high thirties.

It was something that Shepard really, really didn't want to think about.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Garrus continued, seemed oblivious to the growl of irritation that had seeped into Grunt's voice with the question. "It's all very... Krogan. Blasted all to hell, obvious signs of combat at every turn, the scars of explosions littering the landscape no matter where you look..."

"Are you talking about the planet, or the right side of your face, Garrus?" Shepard put in as they stepped down into the main room of the building, grinning to herself as she spotted Wrex arguing with another Krogan in the distance. Seemed not much had changed since her last visit.

"Ohh, ouch," the turin hissed through his teeth as if wounded as Grunt snorted in amusement. Then spoke in a low, almost purring tone. "Mm... Alright. I'll remember that one, Commander."

Throwing a grin over her shoulder at the turian she found sexier than any man she'd ever known, she was ready to reply when a roar came from the direction of Wrex. All hands flew to their weapons as three sets of eyes watched the unfortunate male flung through the air before landing, and rolling down the make shift ramp leading up to Wrex's 'throne'. Shepard side stepped the rolling figure to continue her way up towards the imposing figure that watched them approach, as did Garrus. Grunt, on the other hand, decided to remain at the base of the ramp until the other male came to a stop.

All eyes were quickly trained on the massive young male when the defeated Krogan started to struggle to his feet, a low toned growl of rage bubbling up from his chest. A growl that was cut short, when Grunt's armored boot was not so gently shoved into the side of his neck, pinning him back to the ground. "My Battle Master has business with the Clan Leader. And she is far more worthy than you. Save your arguments for another day."

With that, the heavily armored youth stepped over the other Krogan as if he no longer existed, walking up the ramp as the once again defeated male pulled himself to his feet and stormed away angrily. Shepard was aware that Wrex had all of his attention focused on Grunt, and waited patiently as the ancient male sized up the youth much as he had done the first time. With a grunt of approval, he finally nodded before turning his eyes towards Shepard. While it was not what she would have called a smile that crossed his massive mouth, the look on his face was certainly one that said he was pleased to see her. "Shepard, my old friend! Back alive from the Omega Four Relay, I hear. And having spilt every drop of Collector blood in the Galaxy. It is no less than I expected from you."

Somehow, praise from the ancient Krogan made her feel a rush of pride that she rarely felt any other time. True praise was a rare thing, outside of her own crew. Most believed her to be insane, deluded, or a liar. Or all three at once, but Wrex had never once doubted her word. Even when she had told him that destroying the cure for the Genophage was best for his people, he had trusted that her intent was honorable. When he drew closer with one arm extended, she grasped it at the elbow. As always when she greeted him, she was impressed when she actually felt his grip cause her armor to give just enough for her to actually feel his hand. "Wrex, it's good to see you doing well still."

"As well as can be expected. Another clan has come into the fold, after much bloodshed I'm afraid. Progress is slow." His words ended when his eyes turned to settle on the figure in blue armor patiently standing off to one side.

That's right. I didn't bring Garrus down here last time.

Even though he had expressed his desire to come down with her, the fact that Mordin and Grunt had both needed something from the surface had made the choice to take both of them at once a hard one to resist. She still somewhat regretted it, if only because she had missed his one-shot-one-kill tactics that even worked on charging Krogan. And for the reaction that she saw when the massive Krogan and the Turian bad ass locked eyes.

"Garrus?" Lumbering past Shepard, Wrex thrust out his hand once more. "Ha! I expected you to be dead by now, not for lack of trying from the look of you," he rumbled as his eyes scanned the scarred side of his face with what could easily have been called respectful speculation. Krogan always respected strength, and the melted wreckage of the turians armor combined with the cybernetic mesh that covered his lower jaw around the scaring, it had taken no small amount of strength to survive whatever had caused it. "Back under Shepard, I see."

Garrus cast a quick glance towards Shepard, one which she understood loud and clear. And replied to with a 'you say one word, and you're exiled to the forward batteries tonight' look, earning an amused twitch of his mandibles as his attention returned to Wrex and grasped his arm as well. "Well, I am a creature of habit," Garrus replied with a rasping chuckle. "Couldn't miss out on the chance to chase after bad guys and run around the galaxy with Reapers breathing down my neck. I might get soft, sitting around all day."

Wrex's laughter at the turian's obvious jab wiped away the shadow that mention of the Reapers normally brought over Shepard, and her grin was actually making her face ache when Wrex almost knocked Garrus over with a friendly slap on his armored shoulder. No doubt, without the armor that friendly tap would have broken some plates. Taking a moment to scrutinize the scaring again, Wrex nodded before starting a turn towards Shepard before he paused. Shepard almost groaned when he turned his attention back to Garrus, though this time rather than using his eyes...

---

Damned mandibles simply would not stay still. Not when Wrex was leaning close to him, and sucking in air as if trying to determine what flavor the air around the turian was. He had never been one for inter-species study, beyond learning the best spots to put a bullet and how best to avoid detection (setting his knowledge of humans aside, because Shepard was certainly a special case). The old Krogan couldn't possibly... He had showered, and his armor was clean. He knew well enough that Jane's scent would permanently linger on his plating, but the scent would have been faint to most...

The grin that crawled across the Krogan's face told him all he needed to know, along with the darkening of Shepard's skin when a slight blush crpet up her throat. She had drawn the same conclusion that he had, obviously. And Wrex being... Well, Wrex, was not going to play innocent to the information scent had brought him.

"I never knew Shepard had a weakness for facial scars." So close to his own words on the matter, Garrus couldn't help the short laugh that left him even though it did earn him a glare from Shepard. Easy steps carried the Krogan closer to Shepard again, where he breathed in deeply once more as if to confirm what he had noticed in the turian's scent.

Garrus watched, with no small amount of annoyance as Wrex leaned in closer to Shepard, who, being Shepard, didn't budge an inch even when that grinning face was only an inch or two away from her. "I knew you had the heart of a Krogan." Protective instincts started to kick off in his head when he heard to seductive (could Krogan be seductive? It sure came across as an attempt at it) tone in their friends voice. Friend or not, he was standing way to close to Jane. "Though, if it's scars you're looking for, I have a few of my own that you haven't seen yet..."

It wouldn't be until his head cleared that Garrus realized that the enraged snarl that filled the air had come from him. Before the red haze that clouded his eyes started to clear, he realized that Shepard and Grunt both were holding him back. Trying to hold him back anyway; Clan Leader Urdnot Wrex spitting blood onto the dusty ground before drawing himself to his feet while rubbing his massive jaw. Garrus had been completely unaware of the four body guards with guns trained on him, until Wrex raised his hand in signal for them to stand down. All of this didn't seem to be enough to keep him from growling though, his mandibles flared wide with the tips of his teeth clearly seen, though he was not struggling against Shepard and Grunt now. "Watch what you say, Krogan." Even he would have been surprised when the word came out like a curse, had he not been so completely furious at the moment. How dare he get so close to Shepard? And to speak to his mate like some common whore who would jump into bed with anyone who happened to have a scar...

They were all surprised when Wrex gave a short bark of a laugh in reply, stepping closer to Garrus before clapping his hands onto his shoulders tightly with a nod of approval. "I knew you had a Quad, turian!" he bellowed in obvious delight. Only a Krogan would have taken pleasure in facing an enraged turian, though his laughter and obvious approval allowed some of the rage to drain from Garrus' tense body. "Worthy enough, Shepard. Worthy enough. It's not every male who would attack a clan leader in his own home, let alone lay claim to Commander Shepard. At least he's not as soft and weak as the biotic. I never did understand how you of all people could stand letting someone who whined like a varren pup brood over you."

Some kind of test? Predatory blues were focused on Wrex as he lumbered towards his throne again. He had to bite back the desire to knock him into the dirt again, but with the instinct to defend his mate now replaced with simple indignation over the fact that he had been played, he was able to resist the urge. He would never understand Krogans.

---

Shepard had never seen Garrus behave like that before. Sure, she had seen him in fist fights multiple times. Hand to hand grappling, accurate strikes with his fists, incapacitation of armed opponents. She knew from battle and sparring that he was able to do all of these things with ease. When he had said he was one of the top hand to hand specialists on a turian warship, she had easily believed him. He almost always found ways to get the better of her when they sparred, even if he had recently taken to cheating and their sparring matches always ended in tie breakers. She knew he could fight.

But she had never seen him so blindly enraged before. Kelly had warned her once about the Turian tendency to be territorial of their mates. Spoke of violent reactions to sexual advances from other males, complete with uncontrollable bursts of anger, growling, hissing...

Why was that such a damned turn on?

She should have felt like a piece of meat being fought over by a testosterone driven turian and a testosterone flooded Krogan. She should have been offended that he felt she needed anyone to fight her battles for her. She should have been yelling at Garrus for hitting Wrex and nearly getting himself shot.

But she couldn't stop thinking about the primal, barbaric image of the armored Turian standing over the Krogan warlord with his hands curved into claws. Had he not been wearing his gloves, she had no doubt that Wrex would be sporting a new set of scars rather than a bruised jaw. And damn it, the turian walking beside her looked fantastic right now. The tight set of his mandibles, the way his every step seemed like a threat to every male in the vicinity, the sharp and acute shift of hawk like eyes as he seemed to zero in on every male within a dozen meters of her to warn them off. She doubted even a Reaper would have stood in his way at the moment.

She might have, if they had been alone. Stood in front of him, taunted the predator and waited for him to throw her into the dust so he could have his way with her to stake his claim again. Force her to her knees as he came up behind her, his cock sheathed fully in one powerful thrust, talons biting into her shoulder as he pulled her back to...

Get a grip, Shepard!

Inwardly shaking herself, trying to banish the images as she felt aching heat building between her legs, she was shaken further by the raspy rumble that came from beside her. "I'm sorry, Shepard. I realize that I was out of line, but so was he." She could tell that he was still pissed off, but also knew that sooner or later it was going to fade. He and Wrex had always managed to find ways to get under each other's skin back on the SR1, but it had almost been a game between them in the end. "He had no right to get that close to you, and to even suggest what..."

"I know, Garrus," she interrupted before he went off on a rant. She cast a glance at him once more, before she came to a stop in front of the massive six wheeled vehicle that would carry them to their meeting place. He was watching her now, some of his anger gone now as he looked at her with surprise. He was obviously expecting some form of reprimand, maybe a little bit of chewing out, but he looked honestly confused by her lack of action. Thank God for her armor, or her little fantasy would likely end up becoming reality once her scent reached him. "Kelly warned me about instinct in turians. Besides, I am not so sure I would react differently if I saw someone hitting on you right now."

Watching his mandibles flutter for a moment as he considered her words, she waited until he asked what she knew he was going to ask. "Right now, Commander?"

Waiting until Grunt, who was tired of their back and forth banter and ready for some action, climbed into the truck, she finally turned to her lover and mate with a grin on her lips. "I have to be honest, Garrus. No one's ever fought for me like that. Not for that reason anyway. I'm not used to it, I didn't expect it, and right now I am so horny because of it that I want to rip your armor off in front of God and everybody so you can show them how a turian fucks his commander." Watching his eyes widen, his chest rise with a flare of breath, and his mandibles trembled told her everything she needed to know. Then, she switched on Commander Shepard again, calm and precise in her orders. "However, we have a mission to accomplish. So get your turian ass in the truck so we can move out."

She waved him into the truck, and savored the shock on his face. Of course, he started to obey quickly enough. She loved that about him, too. He knew when to follow, knew when to argue, and knew when there was nothing to argue about. Same old Garrus.

"Ohh, ouch," he repeated in the exact same tone as before. A low, chuckled purr leaving him even as he settled into his seat. He saw her watching him as she followed, his eyes never leaving her. "All right, Commander. That's two that I owe you now."

She knew it, smirking to herself as she fasted her harness into place before the driver started to vehicle. And as soon as they were alone together again, she was going to enjoy every second of his paybacks.