The Justicar and The Spectre

"Samara? Wha...? Did any of that...?"

"It happened, Shepard. Every last detail," Samara confirmed, keeping herself focused only on the swirling blue void she held between her hands, not even making an attempt to turn towards him.

"Right," Shepard groaned heavily when he decided to stand, shaking off the strain in his leg muscles. "Err, how long was I out for?"

"Less than a full hour, that was the necessary time that your body needed to recover," Samara replied, with her voice back to its emotionless setting.

"You knocked me out?" Shepard asked incredulously. "Was it really necessary?"

"You had to recover. As I explained, asari are incredibly conscious of the needs of our bodies, and that extends to those we mate with. You needed to rest."

"Could've given me a little more warning," Shepard muttered, stumbling back towards the door. "I have to get back, I don't think we have much time until we have to set off."

"I won't keep you," Samara promised. "And, Shepard?"

"Yeah?"

"If the offer remains, I think I would like our next encounter to take place in your bed," Samara finally turned to face him, with the corners of her sculpted lips twitching upwards in a manner subtle enough that easily could have been missed by anyone not looking as closely as Shepard did, "I've heard from a reliable source that it's 'incredibly comfortable'. Would that be acceptable?"

"Just give me the time, I have the place," Shepard grinned, unlocking the door, vanishing into the corridor with a visible pep in his step, filling the room with the sound of Miranda aiming some thinly veiled threats towards Jack in an attempt to coax her off the table.