Work Text:
“Shepard-Commander,” Legion called out as his mobile platform approached her. It took Shepard some time getting used to having a geth aboard the Normandy, but eventually she found it—him—dare she day, endearing.
It was a strange thing, really. And these feelings probably wouldn’t had stirred not the geth—Legion—taken the arm of her old N7 armor to repair his own. He’d forged a piece of her to him when he needed repairs, strength. She’d thought it odd at first, but now? She had a hard time thinking of it as anything but cute.
He admired her, and Shepard was never one to stray away from whatever praise she could get. She liked the attention, even from a somewhat stalker-like synthetic, a geth.
Shepard had no shame these days. She turned her attention from her thoughts and back to Legion standing before her.
“What can I do for you, Legion?” she asked. His eye light flickered and blinked, seemingly his version of a pensive expression. If he were human, Shepard would call this the look of someone carefully mulling over their words, considering what best to say.
“Shepard-Commander,” Legion began, stopping for a brief moment in a very human pause. He resumed, “This unit has a question.”
Wow, Shepard thought, didn’t know geth could get nervous. “Speak freely, Legion.” She took a sip of water after indicating that it was okay for him to continue.
“Would an organic ever seek physical comfort from a synthetic?”
Shepard abruptly spit out the water that had just passed through her lips.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, confused at what she thought this conversation might be getting at. “Physical comfort, Legion? What do you mean?”
“I have noticed humans engaging in physical touching to comfort one another. I have seen the quarian and the turian holding hands. This unit would like experience with what your people would call a hug.”
Shepard exhaled a sigh of relief at his explanation—at least this wasn’t going where she thought it might have been.
“That’s all you wanted, Legion?” She asked. “A hug? You could have just said so.”
“I noticed you withdrawing from the male human, Alenko-Lieutenant. This platform is perceived as male. Analyzing your interactions with Alenko-Lieutenant made this unit consider that advances from the opposite sex were unwelcome or culturally inappropriate,” he explained as his one eye blinked once before launching back into his reasoning. “An extranet search determined that this was not the case. Why do you avoid contact with Alenko-Lieutenant?”
“The Lieutenant and I have a..um…history,” she explained. “He’s only aboard for transport back to the Citadel after a mishap with his own vessel. I’ll only have to avoid his advances for a short while longer.”
Legion paused in contemplation, then eventually in understanding. He hesitantly stepped forward with his arms outstretched, beckoning Shepard into his embrace.
She obliged—albeit awkwardly—and wrapped her arms around the curious synthetic’s midsection. Legion returned the gesture, squeezing tightly, almost uncomfortably so.
But, Shepard liked it. The closeness with Legion that she expected to find no warmth in whatsoever gave her another—clearly inappropriate—idea to help sate Legion’s curiosity about how some organics seek comfort.
With a raised eyebrow, Shepard backed out of Legion’s hug and she asked, “Come up to my cabin? If you’d like to continue this, uh…lesson, that is. I have some things on the extranet I can show you, resources you may not have considered.”
“Shepard-Commander?” he asked, and Shepard closed her eyes and smiled at the confusion in his mechanical tone. She realized in that moment that she would need to take the lead so she reached out and grasped his three-fingered hand and led him to the elevator.
Legion flickered his eye light as he glanced over at Shepard, then down to the floor—his version of physically representing deep, pensive thought.
Shepard broke the silence as the doors slid open and she entered her cabin. “Are you sure you want to learn more? We don’t have to if you have other things to do. I intended to show you some basic human gestures of comfort, but if this is too much at once we don’t have to.”
The geth stood there a moment, unblinking and said, “This encounter is mutually beneficial.” The endearing awkwardness from their earlier conversation fled, and he seemed to be steadfast in his reasoning.
“This unit wants to learn about how organics seek comfort,” he started. “And Shepard-Commander shows signs of needing comfort, per extranet filtering and biometric readings.”
“Biometric…what? Wait a minute...” Shepard had confusion in her tone, unsure at just what the geth was getting at. “What do you mean, Legion? I was just going to pull up some diagrams, but you’re suggesting…”
“This unit understands that sexual activity common release for most organics under duress. This unit is curious, and Shepard-Commander needs assistance.”
“Wait, Legion…” she interjected. “Are you suggesting we…”
“Engage in mutually beneficial exploration and stress release? Yes, Shepard-Commander. This is what we are suggesting for best possible outcomes.”
Shepard paused to consider the proposition. She wanted to help him, yes, but a part of her felt like she was taking advantage of this situation—and him. He had offered, though, and Shepard was always looking for ways to further the cause of interspecies understanding, and cooperation.
The truth was that Legion seemed to look up to Shepard, and if she could be the example that he needed to further his understanding of organics, who was she to argue? It could be the ache in her loins overpowering any coherent reasoning, but in this moment—the ache won over, and she finally spoke.
“Okay, Legion,” she agreed, though somewhat reluctantly. “What do you want to know?”
“The extranet reveals that humans have sensitivity that the Creators do not.” Legion was straightforward, matter-of-fact.
“I’m sure that’s true, Legion,” she responded. Human and quarian anatomy differed a fair amount despite the obvious similarities, and she could imagine that fundamental understanding of organic physiology for him was mostly centered on that of quarians.
“Human sexual release seems more efficient than that of the Creators. This unit wants to understand the most efficient methods of release for a human.”
His reasoning didn’t resemble any methods of seduction that Shepard had been privy to in the past.
She appreciated the efficiency, however, and asked “What do you need me to do?”
Legion’s eye light flickered, and he spoke with clear orders.
“Shepard-Commander,” he addressed her. “Remove your bottom garments and spread your legs for me.”
Shepard blushed—actually, genuinely blushed—at his orders, but didn’t question him. She disrobed from the hips down as one would in a doctor’s office. The moment didn’t feel sexy or romantic, but instead something like a teacher bestowing knowledge upon a very eager student.
It felt wrong—dirty, almost—but that feeling in and of itself sent a jolt between her thighs, heat pooling at the consideration.
She stepped away from the clothes pooled at her feet, and laid down on her bed. She opened her legs and her glistening folds were on full display for her curious synthetic companion.
If a geth’s expression could be quizzical, that was the look that the tilt of his head and blink of his eye called to mind. Legion seemed to be scanning the situation, sing his vast network of knowledge and information to formulate his plan of attack. Shepard felt kind of bad for him, but not bad enough as to interrupt his acclimation to the circumstance.
These thoughts of hesitation, however, were quickly interrupted when Shepard felt cool metal press directly onto her clit. Her eyes went wide and her body quaked with a jolt.
The motion made Legion pause, and he asked, “Shepard-Commander? Did this unit cause you pain?”
She laughed, quietly, and said, “No, Legion. You just surprised me. And your finger is cold. You’re fine, please continue.”
Considering her words, he momentarily paused and a soothing buzz emanated from his form. His robotic phalange returned to her swollen nub, a pleasant warmth at the contact this time instead of the shock of cold at the start.
Shepard exhaled as the vibrations from Legion traveled through his finger and enhanced the warmth she hadn’t expected to feel at his returned touch.
Well this is…different, she considered. Legion didn’t give her time to wallow in her thoughts for long, though. The vibrations that his touch was sending through her center started pulsing. He worked her pink pearl in slow circles, and Shepard gasped; her eyes flew open at the sensation.
“Shepard-Commander, has…”
She abruptly interrupted him to reassure him, alleviating his reason for worry.
“I’m…great, Legion,” she huffed. “Just…don’t…stop.”
“Affirmative.” Legion hesitated no more, and went back to work at sending pulses to her clit as he rubbed her.
Shepard’s breaths were heavy, and she felt herself already on the cusp. Whatever information he had gathered about female pleasure was shockingly accurate, and the coil in her belly already threatened to unfurl.
Just as she was getting unbearably close to release, Legion pulled his hand away and turned it palm-up before—with surgical precision—inserting it into her soaked heat. She gasped again, as when his finger vibrated against her g-spot, his approximation of a thumb found her clit once more.
The simple vibrating touch in both places was all it took, as her orgasm crashed over her. Legion continued his ministrations, but slowed his pace. His movements were slower, pulses less intense.
She thrusted her pelvis up to meet his motions and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, covering it with a sheen of post-orgasmic sweat.
Her heartbeat slowed, returning back to normal. Legion pulled away from her, sitting on the backs of his feet as he quietly appraised the situation. His one eye blinked in observation.
“Well, Legion,” Shepard panted out. “Do you feel more well-informed?”
“Yes, Shepard-Commander,” he assured her. “And, if my scans are correct, you are statistically significantly more relaxed than before this lesson. Was this unit of assistance?”
Shepard only quietly chuckled to herself as she continued finding her breath.
“Help is one word for it,” she quipped.
“What is another word for it, Shepard-Commander?”
“Let’s save the terminology lessons for next time,” she answered, smirking.
Next time, she thought.
Oh, there would most certainly be a next time.