[b][u][center]Turian Mating Results
For Kacacarrotcake
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








“Am I overdressed?”

The question came as smoothly as ever, though it hid the bit of nerves that he felt underneath. Garrus was used to dealing with life and death, but that was on the battlefield. Here in the hospital was a different matter. Considering the fact that a hybrid state of affairs was involved, as well…

He resisted the urge to shake his head to banish those thoughts, instead looking down at the woman on the hospital bed, pulling at the bow-tie that he wore at his neck. Ailsa looked at him, and then had to cover her mouth to not laugh. 

“What? The staff at the little shop downstairs told me that it was all fathers wore back on Earth.”

“Well, they lied to you, honey.”

“Ah, well. I suppose we’ll have to deal with my dashing good looks now that we’ve flouted tradition.”

Ailsa chuckled as he sat down, and he reached over to take her hand. The hospital blanket slid down a bit, showing off her bulging belly, and he couldn’t help but stare at it as it was unveiled. 

She had been swollen to a large degree, the eggs in her stomach from their frequent ruttings finally showing themselves. There were places where her belly was forcibly pushed up by the tops of the eggs, making her look positively pebbly. 

Shaking his head, he rubbed her stomach a few times. Humans would have been kicking, he was told, but the eggs were completely still. There was no way of knowing just what they would be until they were born and hatched, and he knew that the hatching was still a long time in coming. 

Hell, he was surprised that they’d reached the point of laying eggs. Usually, humans and Turians couldn’t exactly make offspring together. Then again, most humans weren’t the legendary Shepard. 

He chuckled again, pulling his hand back to hers. 

“So, anything terrible happen while I was gone?”

“We’re in a hospital, Garrus.”

“I know, but it’s still you, Shepard. Rachni coming back to life, a giant fungus taking over a whole colony, Reapers wandering the galaxy just to kill you: I don’t put anything past you. Except dancing.”

“I can dance!”

“Shepard, you couldn’t dance [i]before[/i] your belly was bigger than your head. I don’t think it’d improve your moves now.”

“Oh, you.”

She swung a pillow at his face, and he let her hit him. It wasn’t like it did anything, after all, and it made her feel better. 

He looked back at her eggs again, shaking his head. It was quite the clutch, and he doubted that they would come out easily. They all looked fairly good sized, certainly bigger than what he’d put into her to make them. When they came out, he doubted that she’d even feel him. 

Then again, he had to remember what the doctors said. The humans had specifically pulled him to the side and told him, flat out, that there was not going to be anything in the way of sexual relations between him and Shepard for at least a month after she gave birth. 

He told them that they obviously didn’t know his commander. 

She looked at her stomach, then back at him. 

“How did you manage to get so many of those into me, anyway?”

“Well, I’ve always been good at popping the heat sink at the right time.”

“...”

Poff. The pillow returned, smacking him across the face. 

“Dick,” she muttered, though with a smile. 

“Well, that is the appropriate part to insert, isn’t it?”

“You know you don’t have to keep making calibration jokes if you’re nervous, right?”

“Shepard, the moment I admit that I’m nervous is the moment that I tell you that you could beat me in a sniping competition.”

“Then you admit that it’s possible.”

“Heh, only if you let some mercs shoot me in the face with a rocket again.”

“That was an accident, and you know it.”

“Really? I thought you were afraid of losing your fan club if you kept hanging around with someone like me.”

“You...you…Oh, you - nnnngh!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, darting to his feet. 

“Well...I haven’t had them before...but I’d say that was the first - second! Second contraction!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to keep his head on straight, trying [i]not[/i] to panic like all those fathers on the human shows. And to think that he once thought those were informative. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get a doctor!”

He ran for the door, and he’d just managed to open it when she shouted for him to stop.

“Wait, wait!”

“What?”

“Too late. Already coming!”

He turned around, watching as she raised her hospital gown and spread her legs. The slit that he had been invited into - and chased away from, particularly if he offered anything tangentially related to oral - was already spread wide, one egg having popped out and landed on the bed, and a sluice of her fluids following after. 

[i]Well...that’s not good…[/i]

Hitting the call button on the wall and doing it a bit harder than he needed to, he quickly ran back to the bed. Grabbing the egg that had already come out, he cast his eyes left and right for somewhere to put it, and settled on the old food bowl on the counter. He laid it down on top of something squishy, then started pulling pillows out as Shepard laughed between her moans. 

“What? What did I do?”

“Only you...mmmph...only you would put...a newborn egg...in a bowl that used to...be filled with scrambled eggs.”

She chuckled, and he nervously did the same before she was hit with another contraction. This time, he was ready, moving down between her legs and holding one hand beneath her sex as it started to stretch. 

She was clearly fighting against a serious amount of stretching that her body was not ready to take. He could see her opening up, her nether lips parting for the egg coming down, and he did his best not to think about how different this was compared to seeing a Turian woman do this. After all, they were built for it, with wider openings down there and muscles that were used to handling eggs. 

This was...different. And he just hoped that she was ready enough for this after all the exercises that they had done together to try and prepare. 

The next egg poked out from between her pussy lips, the rounded tip wobbling back and forth as she squirmed and strained to push it out further. Both of her holes were puckering, pushing, clenching. 

“Honey, I don’t want to give you too much to think about, but if you can, please keep only [i]one[/i] hole flexing? I don’t want to see anything come out of the other one.”

“Oh, do you want to be laying them?”

“If I could, I -”

“NNNNNNNNGH!”

“Would not dare to do that in a million years,” he quickly revised his statement. 

She pushed out the eggs faster after the second one, forcing him to catch them, carry them, and find places to set them quicker and quicker. He put them in cups, in bowls, even in the sink at the far side of the room when he ran out of utensils to hold them. They kept coming, though, piling up in the sink, even as her belly started to go down, no longer so pebbly and bumpy as it had been. 

But it was the way that she started shivering, panting as the eggs came free that told him that it was going to be okay. He smiled as he watched her panting, her hips starting to twitch as the next egg came free of her dripping, stretched slit. 

“You know, we could probably start putting them back in. Just so you don’t have to sit on them, of course.”

“Garrus, I swear to god…”

“Oh, does that mean you want to be a mother hen to them, too?”

“Garrus, just because I can’t reach the pillow right now…”

“I know. I know.”

He took her hand, giving it a squeeze as he took the last eggs from the bed and put them in the sink with the others. All told, there were twenty-two of them, more than enough for a new generation. He wasn’t sure how he was going to take care of all of them, but they would figure something out. 

Shepard was Shepard, after all, and she had him to help her out. Ailsa Shepard, and Garrus Vakarian. Together, they were the unstoppable team. 

POP.

“Twenty-three,” he corrected himself. 

“Huh?”

“Just keeping count.”











[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]