Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

No Exploding	By : chroniclyflaming Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 5055 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Mass Effect and am making no money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-No Exploding
- 1
The Prompt: Liara/Femshep.

In an AU where Eden Prime went according to plan (no Saren, no exploding beacon), they meet during a high-class social gathering related to this new prothean discovery.

Whether the reapers exist in this AU or not is up to the author.

*remembers that this is the kink meme: oh and uhh, somewhere along the way, sex and/or sexy imagery happens.

The Fill:

(A/N: This was supposed to be romantic. Eyes were going to meet across the room. A red dress. Maybe a slipper left. Witty flirts. I blame Shepard for not allowing such dignity, because everything bad happens when she's around.

(But anyway, awkward, gay, red-haired Shepard is the best.

One Person POV meshed with Third-Person until, in the end, there is only Jane. And she is a wreck)

She shook so many peoples' hands that she lost track. It became second nature to reach out and grab ahold of an arm-like appendage to shake, which had…mixed results. Champagne glasses swarmed around, and Shepard did her best to take out as many as she could. Just doing her duty, as she'd told so many others as they congratulated her on becoming a spectre.

So many people in dresses far more expensive than her own. Never before had Shepard been so conscious of her shoes, except for that one time at basic where she'd somehow lost her boots and had to go an hour of jogging without them. It stuck, vividly, in her mind even now. Everyone was looking at her, staring her down. There weren't enough humans in the room, and Jane had never considered herself even a little bit xenophobic. But there were few allies on the Council, she was beginning to think.

Drinking was not going to help any of this. These people did not need to think she was an alcoholic, for god's sake. But no one was watching, and so she found herself getting drunk as she hadn't since basic training, since N7 training couldn't be done with a hangover. Maybe even as wasted as when she'd been seventeen, in pining dumb love with a girl that hardly looked at her twice that night, and stealing her Dad's scotch.

Which only awoke certain terrible memories that had drifted below her consciousness for a long time. Like her Dad laughing it off, but her Mom banging pots and pans together and making Jane do her chores for the month in one day, even it was basically impossible to wash a month's amount of plates, Mom. Oh, but that was the kindness of that occasion. The worse was trying to get to second base with that girl, only to be half-heartedly given permission, and then slowly rejected as Shepard got drunker and drunker. Thinking about her crying and telling this basically acquaintance how much she'd love her from afar, made Jane want to find a loaded gun and end ever thinking about that night again.

The booze was stirring that back up. And other memories, of losing crew members, of how attractive so many of these women were, both human and asari, and not just out of envy for their prettiness. It would be nice to go up to them, and ask if they wanted to find a quiet closet and make out. They could then avoid all these boring speeches, and you know, feel each other up. Awesomesauce.

Yeah, she shouldn't be getting drunk.

What the hell was wrong with her brain, sometimes. Often. Whatever.

Alenko and Williams were somewhere in the back, shuffled around, and lost somewhere. Probably laughing . At least no one had asked her to dance. Thank god for the little things. Shepard hoped they were having a good time. Staying sober, so the human race wasn't entirely shamed by her actions. Plus, she'd need a ride home, or someone to throw her in a cab with the right directions. Hellishly, she saw herself waking up in a closet here, spooning a mink coat, oh, yes, hi there minister, nice house you have here.

So she crept away, trying to walk and sober up and avoid shaking anyone else's hand. The bar somehow struck her as the perfect cover. You could look preoccupied and like you wanted to be alone. She could drink milk or something and look weird, but sober. Maybe someone would take pity on her and her shoes, and escort her home and wouldn't be a gentleady about getting Shepard into bed.

The bartender was a hanar, and that struck Jane as perfectly brilliant. She sat there on that barstool covered in fancy leather, and grinned at him. It. She wanted to get its number, in case she ever threw a party. Just in case.

It was polite to this drunk human, and promised to get her some milk. Shepard tried to joke, tried to make sure no weird cultural problems were happening. One never knew with these jellyfish. "Make sure it's not human milk, right?"

"Yes."

She winked at this little asari with cute markings. Purple, the markings were. And the eyes a nice shade of green. At the amused smile that Shepard decided to believe was a sign of flattery and interest, she felt her spine straighten a little. She was some grunt elevated above her status, maybe, but at least some random alien thought she was pretty. That she could cling to.

"Here you are."

Shepard took the drink without glancing at it, looking around the room. Act cool. Maybe she'll want to talk to you. Her calm drought of the thick liquid stopped being calm very quickly.

"Say. Bartender. What is this?"

"Hanar milk."

"Hanar milk?"

Hanar milk? Hanar milk.

It was also green.

The bathroom was too far away. She barely had a chance to drop her purse, raise her dress so she could fall to her knees and throw up. A thoughtless moment of popped ears and heaving. Lovely, to only exist in this moment, and not worry about any of the repercussions of after. She was only Jane's stomach and esophagus. Parts she took for granted, rather than a whole.

There were always women in bathroom like this. Large gleaming bathrooms meant for many people. So she was seen by half of the ambassadors and dictators and ministers. And anyone who wasn't such was married to such. Talking, plotting, exchanging battle plans or dinner party ones, or just going to the bathroom in this marble opulence.

Maybe it hadn't even been the hanar milk, as disturbing at that had been. But the booze, and the milk. And the pressure of not being a simple Earth girl that wanted to go to the Normandy and sit in her room in sweatpants and watch bad Earth TV on the terminal and eat something crummy for her. In a way completely different from what she'd consumed tonight.

And, and this was only the mixer, Shepard realized, trying not to have her hair touch the toilet seat. There was still dinner. And the after-party, in the ball room, where there would be dancing.

Someone was in the other stall. Not sitting, just hanging out in there, alone. She looked at those shoes, as she leaned into the toilet bowl to vomit. They were sensible, and Shepard wished she could transfer her life to that body. At the least, it would mean she'd be free of these heels.

She knocked on the partition that separated the stalls. Done in some blue stuff that sounded expensive. "You wouldn't happen to have gum, would you?"

"What? 'Gum'?" A cultured, educated voice. Of course.

"Yeah. Earth thing to chew on."

"Like those gummy worm things?" The voice perked up in interest. "Er."

"What? Oh, yeah."

"I'm afraid not."

"A mint?"

"No. My mother might have something. She's outside. Somewhere."

"Oh. Thanks anyway."

"Do you need something to drink…after being sick?"

"Maybe. I have a few more hours to go. Maybe."

"You need help?"

Shepard flushed her breakfast. "I don't know. That's a judgment call I can no longer make."

Had she drunk milk from a hanar? Where had the hanar gotten that? Where did hanar milk come from? Why was it in a bar? How did hanar milk themselves? What was happening right now in her life?

"I see." Confusion. And a nice voice.

Goddamnit. It wasn't a hanar on the other side. But probably a batarian or something. Vorcha with a speech impediment.

She needed to go home. And sit around in civvies and watch porn and make an ad for some dating sight on the extranet. Hell, even joke ones about quarians looking for very, very clean partners, drells that wanted shower sex, turians that were into sub/dom, and a horny volus with a choking fetish that she and Joker and Ashley would make would be better.

Her own ad: Red-haired single woman in Alliance military seeks woman companion. Must be humanoid. And deaf. Willing to have long-distance relationship. Imagine what responses she'd get.

But still, no matter who was over there, she wanted someone vaguely humanoid to hang off of. To keep her from getting drunk and possibly singing or declaring love to that asari at the bar. Or both. There was a serenader, beneath this skin, Shepard believed. Only will and sobriety kept it at bay.

"Would you be willing to come with me? Not onboard anything. I'm not trying to kidnap you from your Mom. Just around this place. For awhile. If you're not busy. You probably have a date. Never mind."

"No, oh no. That would be fine." Embarrassment in that voice she was coming to find too attractive. Whoever this was, whatever it was, if it wore a bag on its head, and just talked dirty, Shepard would marry it. Their marriage would be a strange one, but she'd heard of things like asari hooking up with fucked up things, so why not? They could grow to love each other. "I've been practically hiding here. As strange as that seems. I'm afraid I don't care much for crowds."

"I understand," Shepard said grandly. Already wondering if quarian suits could be tailor-made for her new fiancé.

"My mother's a matriarch here. Benezia."

"I think I shook her hand."

"She's very popular. I'm a scientist here. For the prothean find."

"This must be awesome then. Aside from the crowds."

"Yes, yes, I suppose it is. I only wish I'd been there to find it."

"No, you don't. It was a mess. Lost a soldier that day. Good man. I think his name was Jenkins."

"You—you are human. Of course you are. You are Commander Shepard, the new human spectre." It was nice to know her future wife-thing was so glad to meet her.

"That's me."

"And you found the beacon!"

"Right."

"That's amazing. I'd love to know more about it. And you, of course. It must have been an extraordinary thing to have found. To be there, before it."

"Not as nice as being before you."

"What?"

"Never mind. You want to leave this bathroom. Get something to drink?"

"Oh, sure. Of course."

Shepard watched those shoes moving away, then towards her. Stopping to peak into the stall she was collapsed in. Then her eyes moved up. Calves. Legs. Definitely vaguely humanoid. This pretty white dress that was lined with a blue that almost matched her skin. White leggings. Long-sleeved. Great hips that were already driving Shepard crazy and making her want to ask this stranger to turn around for her. This round, curious face and these lips, and a button nose. Freckles that made Jane immediately feel like commiserating with. Painfully blue eyes darker than the petition.

She both desperately wanted this person to take her drunk ass home, to some home, and was horrified at the thought.

Save me.

Run as far away as you can and never look back because I will take it as a sign of interest and track you down.

"Hi."

"Hello, Commander Shepard."

"You want to get a drink?" She smoothed her hair away from her dumb red-freckled face. As though there was dignity to be regain. Why couldn't she have waited for a date, maybe two, before wrecking expectations and her self-esteem before this lovely being? This lovely nerd that made her feel like her race was back in caves, picking lice from their body hair and hitting their mates with clubs and carrying them off, oh, how she wished it were that simple now. Although, asaris had biotics, and that might complicate things.

Great. She'd get rejected, and then thrown into the air and into a wall.

"Yes. Can you tell me all about the recovery of the beacon?"

Better than being ignored, Shepard had to say. Maybe a real date, and then she'd screw this up, and go home, hating herself, and then peruse some asari porn. Unspeakably grim. Both optimistic and pessimistic.

She attempted to straighten her black dress, conscious of the red lining on her own dress that probably clashed with her hair.

"Sure. Of course. Anything you want to know."

"Oh, and my name is Liara. Liara T'Soni."

"I'm Jane Shepard. But you already knew that."

Benezia looked nothing like her daughter. Scarily different. Except for the eyebrows and…Shepard managed to keep herself from staring at Liara's chest. She took pride in that. Because that's all she had.

Liara, her adorable new friend, took her to find her mother. So for probably the third time, Shepard shook her hand, as this unimpressed woman-alien's daughter asked if she had any gum. For Shepard. Who needed it, because she was feeling a little under the weather. Holding her hand out, as though to present the spectre.

"Alright, Liara." A look that could mean anything in those dark eyes. "Let me check."

About twenty or so years she'd lost since stepping through those huge doors. She was now six, and unable to be alone without climbing on something. Or maybe even further back, drinking milk and vomiting and needing someone to watch her so she didn't get her head stuck in-between those bars on the stairs and begin wailing.

Despite that, she kept wanting to take Liara's hand, her arm, and play the part of a respectable, suitable girlfriend. The other part wanted to give into those infant, Freudian urges and just begin crying, wanting someone to take her home so she could finally sleep.

She just stood there, instead, this six-year-old in a dress like the adults wore, while Liara's mom went through her purse for gum or a mint. Exchanging awkward glances with her, this asari that must have thought such awful things about the woman her child was hanging around in. Her daughter had fallen in with the wrong crowd. Not the violent ones that cut class and smoked in the quad, but the ones that were held back grades and seemed to act stoned, even when sober.

"Here you are." A cold one, this lady-creature who'd somehow given birth to an earnest, passionate dork that loved history. Her father was never mentioned, but Shepard imagined a scary huge commando that was really protective and probably hated humans.

"Thank you, Matriach Benezia."

Almost said Missus T'Soni. God.

She took it, glad to have some excuse to clench her teeth. Probably sobering up, as dinner was prepared. And then went through this awkward moment where Benezia held her hand out for the wrapper, but Shepard hadn't understood and had been confused if she wanted the gum back, if she was going to do the mom thing of taking used gum, but then had gotten it and hadn't wanted to let loose the crumpled wrapper that was now all sweaty from being held in a death-grip, and said something about keeping it for the gum afterward. To spit it out in.

If she neared a window, she would jump from it and end this. They'd find her body with the dress riding up embarrassingly high, but hopefully if there was an afterlife, it would spare Shepard from seeing that.

"Commander Shepard has been telling me all about the prothean beacon that was found."

So she heard Liara retelling everything that Shepard had just said to someone else. It sounded better from the asari, to be honest. The little hand movements really completed the picture. The Matriarch was visibly trying to stay interested,

They'd met maybe twenty minutes ago, and Shepard was already smitten. Getting cold sweats over having Benezia as a mother-in-law, and what she would say to having this soldier dating her daughter. But, forbidden love or not, Shepard definitely wanted to see Liara again. There had already been some alluding to going to this museum some time, while Shepard mentally fist pumped.

If Benezia knew what Jane was plotting, she would have politely escorted her child away. And then advised getting a restraining order, and some guards.

"If you'll excuse me, Little Wing, but I have to talk to those salarian delegates over there."

"Mother. You don't have to call me that anymore. I'm not a child."

"I know you're not. I hope to see you later, Commander Shepard."

She glided away, looking like a queen. Shepard hardly felt like she was qualified to swab out the stables for the royal family. Liara was still trying not to fidget, like it was picture day and she was afraid of messing up her clothes.

Was that a warning look? Was she being paranoid? Did that mean Benezia considered Shepard worth getting nervous about when it came to her daughter? That's right, lock up your wives and daughters, Shepard's on the prowl.

Normally, when I meet girl's parents, they just nod and not notice me trying to get into their daughter's pants. And when I meet parents as a girlfriend, they just look mildly disappointed when I stick my elbow in the butter and not notice for twenty minutes and continually ask me if I really am in the Alliance and how many people are under my command. Don't worry, Missus T'Soni, I'll just cry in your daughter's arms for a while. Nothing will happen, believe me. I'm the safest person you could leave her with. Besides the shooting mercenaries thing. You should ask my exes. Actually, no, don't do that.

"'Little Wing'?"

"It's a nickname." Liara's face turned plum, when she blushed, and that was knowledge Shepard took and hid away. That, and the precious nickname. "From when I was a child."

"But now you're old?"

As a child, she'd been called Jane the Pain, from the first time she gotten into a fight about some toy. A nickname that had followed her until she'd signed up with the Alliance.

"I'm an adult. By asari standards, I am young though. A fact that my mother hadn't forgotten."

"So, how old are you?"

Real smooth. You're going to die alone.

"A hundred and six."

"What? Really? I knew you guys were long-lived, but still."

"I'm afraid my culture hardly considers me an adult."

"You don't look that old. I mean. You know what I mean."

Liara was smiling, and Shepard was light enough to fall over. Then choke on her gum.

"I understand. Thank you."

"No problem."

Can I sit next to you at dinner? If at all possible? Not just to be near to you, in general, but because I'll do something awful at dinner. I know it. You can deflect with your adorableness, and biotics.

Oh, there was Alenko. Tie undone and tipsy, talking with some hanar about ale. Getting passionate about Canadian lagers. Damnit. She'd been depending on him for some dignity, not making some weird scene about alcohol content.

Turians everywhere. A drell that clearly tried looking down Liara's dress, while Shepard glared at him.

Ashley, over there, looking great in that dress, amazingly professional and probably sober, and on the arm…of a turian. Not sober than. Laughing hard at something he was saying, waving her hand like, no, too much. Definitely drunk off her ass.

Shepard wanted to shake them both. They were her subordinates, and she'd hoped in some terrible military fashion they'd pick up the slack for her awkwardness and unprofessionalism. Any blackmail, if only joking, would only backfire considering that she'd vomited in front of so many of the women here.

Now Alenko talking about Canada, what the hell, was he singing their national anthem, and Ashley nodding to the turian who was dressed like a security guard that he was definitely right about hanar poetry. To the insult of several hanar floating around nearby. She'd nearly given her used gum to a Matriarch, but at least she hadn't insulted any asari culture. Hell, after drinking their milk, she might even qualify to be an ambassador to the those hanar.

So, she was screwed. Their entire race shamed and bound to be thrown out of any Council alliances they could have gotten, and she was still way too tipsy, and distracted by Liara's arm next to her as they headed into the dining hall. It would have been easy to touch her hand, sorry about that, wasn't watching my hand. Or, would it be alright to hold your hand, if I'm not crossing any line? She could have said it. It was physically possible for her to say that.

She would have liked to be a dashing rouge, but didn't have the confidence for that so would be stuck playing the earnest hero that was always a little slow on the uptake. As usual.

But then they were being shuffled off by some official looking volus, and got pointed in opposite directions. The only comfort was the look of surprise and perhaps dismay at being separated on Liara's face. That, and seeing Liara walk away was magnificent, if disappointing because one could no longer bask in her company.

She was pathetic. This was that border. Giddy and joyful and falling in love with her in bits and pieces. With practically a stranger. Love her voice, love her legs, love her mouth, her nose her eyes her hips those freckles those eyes definitely those eyes that leave me nearly falling over myself and yes definitely that ass. Pathetic.

But at least they were roughly seated across from each other. At different twin tables, but it still helped.

The guy sitting next to her was human, an ex-general from the First Contact War, grizzled as fuck and complete with a hook for a hand and an eye patch. Like the limb growth treatments hadn't taken in the guy, his genes shoving that out and saying they didn't need that pussy shit, rub some dirt in it and let's go drink hard liquor.

Something about his scars and short hair reminded her of N7 training, and one fellow recruit in particular. One exercise in particular. A flagpole where they were told to not use any biotics to retrieve the flag on top, and whoever won would get any extra day of shore leave. Cue she and this other guy, who shared some similar to name that had made the others joke about them being long lost cousins, awkwardly walking around each other, watching every move, until she'd jumped on him and used him to boost herself up that pole. Sometimes, it was good to be skinny and have strong shoulders.

That she'd spent that shore leave watching old Earth sitcoms didn't matter. She'd won, goddamnit, and that John nobody had looked briefly disappointed. And she would beat this dinner too.

What the hell was she supposed to do with her gum? Just swallow it? She hadn't seen a garbage can in this place. Like no one that came here produced any waste whatsoever. Her gum wrapped slid beneath the bowl of soup places before her. Do not slurp it, Shepard. And stop staring at Liara.

Shepard swallowed the gum, and did not die. The soup was something not potato and leek, but might as well have been. Other races got other stuff, and she watched Ashley and her new date exchanging things like kids at the lunch table. If only she had a tray and could switch seats with someone. Then she could hang out with Liara until the bell rang and she had to go to history. And Ashley definitely needed to go to some cultural cooking classes because she was really going to regret eating turian food.

At least Liara was glancing at her, making some small talk with the people besides her, mostly other asari and their dates. Desperately, she wanted to go there, and sit beside her new friend. They could discuss anything, just so long as she could be near her, even embarrassing moments in Shepard's life. A hundred and six, know knew how many of those years spent studying complicated artifacts and history, and now she would be here, listening to some grunt soldier tell her about her first date that had ended with her hair on fire and thus made sure she now kept it short.

Looks were thrown at the asari, curious, considering. An important historian, that would have the first crack at the new prothean find, perhaps. Or because she was the Matriarch's daughter. Or because she looked adorable playing with some leafy salad, gaze downward, lost in whatever brilliant thought she was having, probably something about using the new technology to better all sentient life in the galaxy. Dark eyelashes hiding those terrifyingly blue eyes that rolled upward to look at her. Unblinking.

Jane nearly stabbed herself spreading butter onto a roll.

She was a blushing creep that had narrowly missed spilling blood all over her food. But Liara was looking at her. A glass of wine was besides her plate, and she sipped from it, hoping she didn't look like a pervert weirdo that turned flustered over an innocent glance. Thankfully she wasn't wearing much lipstick, and what she'd borrowed from Williams was waterproof and smudge-free. Liara didn't seem to be wearing any lipstick, if that shade of purple was real. Was it real? She wished there was a smudge on Liara's wine glass and that she could drink from it, putting her mouth over that mark.

Those old rumors about asari being mind-readers were hopefully just scared lies.

Hey, a quarian in a pretty purple suit that was paler than Liara's mouth. Nice to know they had some representation here, in some vague way. She, Jane inferred from the breasts, was eating something from a tube inserted into her mask. A drink with a straw was set to the quarian's side, and it stole all of Shepard's attention. Watching a quarian drink using a straw. No matter what, this night was worth it just to see that. And to meet Liara.

…Who was once again looking at her.

Her flush was horrible, but at least time she smiled back. Idiotically. But just looking back at her without any expression couldn't be good either. Better for Liara to know that she was odd, and awkward, and completely head-over-heels attracted to her. Pulling one of those scalp things on the back of her head and running away. Sometimes Shepard felt very old, and exhausted, but now she wanted to make a young fool out of herself for that blue girl. Dance with her, if she had a chance, tell her that she wanted to know her better and that wasn't necessarily a come-on. A slow number would play, and she'd twirl the archeologist into her arms and smile, and there wouldn't be the need for any words for Jane to fuck up.

It suddenly struck her, as she poked at what was probably real steak, that the beautiful xenoarcheologist had also been hiding from everyone. In the bathroom. Like someone at a party on too much Hellex or something. Kind of fidgety, and prone to making lots of hand gestures. Endearing as hell, but any sign of social anxiety was welcome. She might have a chance to be the smooth one in a relationship, rather than the one that made her partner rub her forehead all the time and reprimand Jane for being so uncomfortable with people she didn't know.

She struck up a conversation with the general over the turian design implemented into the Normandy ("Those birds can make a ship, at least. And their women are damn easy on the eyes."), in-between talking/yelling at the quarian with the straw down the table ("What?! I can't hear you!"), and exchanging smiles at Liara.

It had been a long time since she read a book by that fellow Jane, but she felt like she could be in one of Austen's books. One written after the writer had been cloned and was now living in this time that she might have appreciated if only for the extranet and communication services that catored to the agoraphobic. She wasn't any poor peasant girl with a good head, not exactly, and Liara definitely was not some rich benefactor who acted rude.

The asari was sweet and shy, even as she probed Shepard for more details that made her feel like she was under a microscope.

"The Blitz. Yeah, that was a fun way to spend a weekend. What, oh, no, I'll tell you about it, you don't have to watch the interview I did."

Nearly tearing the discreet mini omni-tool from Liara that of course she had. Even for someone a little socially awkward, that had been a terrible event that she didn't remember actually going through. Her mind wracked from what had happened, Shepard only knew what happened from the holovid and recalling in a vague, fractured manner, the adrenaline that caused her to yell so many of the details, then that wearing down until she was sobbing afterward while the reporter comforted her. And her trying to get that woman's number.

So maybe that made Shepard the rich good-looking dude that was going to slowly win over the unfairly treated girl? Which made Shepard feel a little bad. And oddly glad she hadn't worn her formal uniform, even if she did think she looked very snazzy in it. Not handsome, though. Regardless of any gender issues that she did not have, she wanted a brandy snifter, and a pipe, and some comfortable shoes and pants that allowed her to sit with her legs spread normally.

She found some brandy, from a different bartender, this one a turian, and felt mighty good sitting here in this part of the house. Cozy, with books nearby, and Liara sitting across from her at a small table. If you closed the doors that led into the hall and put in some windows that showed a populated city, it pretty much would have been a date.

Let's talk about our childhoods. Once in middle school I sneezed so hard I broke my nose against my desk. Personal habits? More than once I have masturbated in my armor, but only one time have I done that in the Mako when I was hiding from my crew and my room wasn't safe enough, and I got bored. This scar is from when I tried to adopt a pet varren, but I tell everyone it was from my first firefight. Did you have pets growing up? Any siblings? No? The first time I got the third base with a girl, it was on Earth during a trip to Ohio of all places, and we were behind the bleachers when the baseball team came out to begin playing, and I did not appreciate the irony. Who was your first girlfriend? Mine still claims that I turned her straight.

"What's your favorite color?"

Liara had been reluctant to drink, since she hardly did it, and so had Jane order her something. That ended up pink and frilly and full of fruit. But Liara had rolled with it without even making much of a face. She knew so little about humans that it sometimes made their interactions a little strange, but ultimately work in Shepard's favor. "White. Or green. I like green. What about you?"

"Blue." Then she had to try to continue to act suave in whatever way she'd managed. As classy as she could be with her shoes slipped off, and trying not to leer at this woman. "I mean. Not that I have an asari fetish."

She looked mildly concerned. Fuck. "I didn't think you did. Um."

"So, your mother, are you two close?"

"Not particularly. Before this find, we hadn't talked in years."

"Wow. Really? That's something. You two don't get along?"

"I suppose not. There's a lot of pressure being the Matriarch's daughter."

"I can imagine." To her horror, she found herself reaching out for Liara's hand, and giving it a lame pat. Liara just stared down at her hand, blinking, turning faintly purple. Someone should have locked her up in the Normandy, and never let her out except to shoot things.

"Sorry. In human cultures, we touch. Maybe too much."

"To demonstrate affection, yes. I—thank you. I understand the gesture." This look, beautiful, coy, flirtatious dare she dream, moving from where they're hands had been, together, to Shepard's face.

She was going to sing 'I Touch Myself' soon. It swam in her veins. Headed from her clitoris to her heart. To her mouth.

She could imagine it, like the worst horror movie ever, and she had no one to cuddle with and calm her down. Now, damnit, already Shepard could see them wrapped in that throw she kept in her apartment back on Earth. Which would never happen if Jane sang to her. And oh, boy, she really didn't want to think about that one-bedroom flat. With its small single twin bed she often didn't use, and fridge that would quickly empty when she was home, and weights, and the couch she'd fall asleep on while the television blared. Her terminal in the corner with the useless antivirus programs. The phone that would make her flinch every time it rang, "Hi, Mom, yeah. I'm alright. You? Um. No. Not dead yet. You're busy. I know. Bye."

Her being single sometimes touched on, then dismissed. Like her mother didn't even want to know what she was getting into. And Jane sometimes wanted to either say something about how tired she was after the last inter-species orgy, just to see her reaction, or actually talk about how much she wanted a girlfriend, just someone that liked her and might come around to her house for dinner once a week. Why was her personal life in such shambles? She should have at least had a divorce under her belt by now.

Thus far, all she'd had were short flings that at most might go no further than flirting and maybe ending up in bed. Her last serious relationship had ended when her N7 training had begun, a teary ending that had been mutual since they might go months without communicating and wanted to spare each other that. But finding the other persons stuff in your apartment, nothing important, just dumb little things like hair ties and an old shirt, months after they'd broken up and being stunned by what had happened. Sure that the other person had already moved on and was seeing someone else, and that you were only some remnant they hardly thought about anymore. Nothing between you and her anymore but useless junk and memories that were already fading.

"My mom and I aren't very close either. After my Dad died, I guess I got along better with him, maybe. She's in the Alliance too, so we don't get a chance to see or talk to each other."

"I'm sorry." And she did indeed look sad for Shepard. Not really pityingly, which was nice.

So they both had some mother problems. As much as she wanted to have a future with Liara, the sudden image of their parents meeting brought chills to her spine. Hannah had hardly said anything about asari, ever, but between being inspected by both her and Benezia, she wanted to put on thick clothes and empty gasoline onto her head before flicking a match.

"Any siblings?"

"No." A pause. "No."

"Is your Dad around? That's not offensive, is it? To ask that about asaris?"

"It's alright. My father was another asari."

Father. Like, she hadn't given birth to asari? Confusing. "Is she here too?"

"No. I don't know my father. In my culture, that's no odd, since asari as so long lived. But most are members of other species that contribute to the evolution of our species. Having two asari parents is something that is not common. I never knew Benezia's bondmate. She never speaks of her. And my father has never acknowledged me."

Horrible, she felt horrible for bringing it up. Why the hell couldn't she keep her mouth shut? Ask bland thing, what's your favorite food, what's the last book you read—although that last one would probably make her look like an idiot, since Liara was a doctor that had spent more time studying that Shepard had even been alive. "I'm sorry, Liara."

Having a parent out there, one you've never met, must be terrible. Growing up and wondering if they cared. Think about a younger Liara, feeling unwanted. That image was like getting a gut punch. Oh, Liara, anyone would be proud to have you part of their family. How could anyone want to deny having a connection to her?

Bondmate.

It would be nice to even be a remnant for this person before her. To have once been a part of her life. To have a past Can we go out, and pretend we have something serious, even if you break up with me immediately? Because Jane could live with that, with surprising ease.

Where the hell had she gone wrong in life? Was it not cultivating enough friends with successful relationships that had lots of single female friends that liked a woman in uniform and would like Shepard's number? Was what she needed was, that one anachronistic word, wingmen? Someone to back her up and brag about how great Jane was, the best Commander in the galaxy.

The set of friends she had along now might help with this, though. Make her look normal. Authoritative, since she could order Kaidan and Williams around and make them drop and give her ten. "Maybe we should find my friends? They can tell you about the prothean beacon, too."

Liara looked trapped. Mouth open, and mind working beneath those scalp crests that Shepard wanted to touch. "I suppose. I haven't spent much time with humans. I'm afraid of making a mess of things."

"Don't worry. They're way bigger messes. And just don't bring up beer. At all."

They wandered the halls together. Hands sometimes brushing as they squeezed past an elcor, and every time Liara would blush and apologize. It was lovely, even when Shepard got them lost in the attic. But they followed the trail of destruction, and dirty looks and mutters about human, until they were in the basement.

"Maybe we can stay down here, rather than go to that ballroom."

"Yes." Liara's relief was palpable. "I would very much prefer that."

Ashley was doing shots with that turian, and Kaidan. And the quarian, her accent thicker, egging them on every time. Somehow, somehow, these guys had found one of the stray krogans that were usually bodyguards for someone here, and had gotten him wasted. The huge body stretched out beneath them, as Williams threw down another empty glass and told the turian to suck it.

"Hey. Skipper. Who's this? Your date?"

"No. Not exactly." She was amazed at how calm she sounded. "This is Doctor Liara T'Soni. She's going to study that beacon we found."

"And nearly died for." But Kaidan was smiling, all the same. Her wingmen.

"Hi, Doctor!" The quarian waved hard enough to nearly fall off the table she sat on.

Yep, she was going to take Liara under the bleachers and teach her how to smoke. Take her to the prom, where they'd either lose their virginities to each other, or get into a giant fight and break up while getting drunk. Ten years, she'd lost ten years here. But, Mom, all the cool kids were doing it.

"Which one of you guys is the bartender?"

The turian poured her a drink, and with her friends here, and a pretty girl besides her, Jane almost imagined herself being able to survive this night.

Her poor liver. She'd make it up. Not to the liver, since that was already probably failing soon, but to the rest of her body. Shepard would find a way to have a bubble bath and if not paint her nails, at least make sure they were perfectly clean. Get a haircut, or a trim at least. Maybe buy some nice off-duty clothes.

"What's your name?"

The turian blinked small eyes, looming high above. Ashley poking at him and asking for another shot ruined whatever dignity he might have had. "Garrus."

"Oh. Hi. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Tali." The quarian leaned out to strike her hand forward and shake Shepard's. They probably hadn't done this earlier. "Garrus and I met at the Citadel. Saved this turian ambassador that was trying to blackmail the Consort, so we were invited…Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"And the krogan?"

"Didn't catch his name," Kaidan managed, totally trying his best not to look at Tali's lower posterior. "We're pretty loaded, Commander."

"Like. There's two of you."

Her wingmen. Goddamnit.

She wished she had two older, probably gay men to appear and give her a makeover. Teach her to have poise and grace and to make harmless jokes about classic literature and polo. And to walk with a book on top of her head. Liara had adorably slumped shoulders, all rounded and twitchy, and that made Shepard feel very self-conscious of her own, which were built to carry buckets of water on.

Garrus poured them all drinks. Even the asari, who acted like she'd never really had one before. Though, she had sipped at that girly drink full of fruit and alcohol.

A hundred and six. And didn't asaris hit puberty absurdly late by human standards? Forty or thirty or something? God. Would she have been better off hitting it so late, or when was it best she had reached that stage at twelve, horrified that those sex-ed videos had indeed been right about this shit. Had Liara gone through something similar? Probably not exactly the same. For Benezia's sake, she hoped her daughter had never come to her, frightened and angry, what do you mean it'll happen once a month, what, part of being a woman, does that mean they'll at least get bigger, right, Mom? Hannah Shepard didn't believe in lies either, just in not waiting to disappoint the daughter that had only recently moved up from technically 'training' bras.

She found herself tapping on the bar, something that was definitely not from the Divinyls.

"What's that, Journey?"

"…sure. Yeah."

Williams joined in, on hitting the bar, all grins, her hair falling out of its customary bun. To her own 'date's' interest. Alenko was right behind her, singing away. It was a primal, human thing to screech and pound on things in a rhythmic manner. Back to the cavemen days, when they were hitting rocks to make fire.

The aliens became frightened. Tali fell on top of the krogan. Waking him up, yelling, and scaring the rest of them towards the ballroom when he launched up to run headfirst into a wall.

It was an inevitable place, the black hole of this night that sucked Jane ever closer. She went towards it, very conscious of her heels and the look of fear on Liara's face. Because this was the woman-person she'd met hiding in the bathroom, avoiding others. Now they were going to be thrust into a room full of staring people. The perfect time to grab her hand and plead for her not to disappear. They all managed to get into the crowded room without anything getting scratched up or broken, thankfully. Maybe the walk/fleeing had even helped get them more sober?

With others around her, (Liara practically hiding behind her, so severe was her discomfort) people that she knew if not very well, she felt a little safer about heading to this hell. What had she done at so many dances before? Leaned against the wall, and hung out, sipping punch that either was, or wasn't spiked. But now she was an adult, and could drink without being afraid her parents would find out and ground her.

The only parents here were Liara's mom. Though she might be pissed off at seeing her daughter drunk. And on the arms of a human such as Shepard.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. Benezia seemed a bad person to anger. And Liara had a look of increasing panic in her eyes, flight or fight instinct. Tali was forcing Garrus onto the floor, both of them finding the height difference amusing, and Kaidan and Ashley were exchanging looks, c'mon, let's get this over with.

They would be left here in the opulent room, leaning against the wall like someone sneaking out of prison. The spot lights would hit them soon, and the alarm would go up. "Oh, hell, you wanna dance?"

"What? I. I don't know."

"To a slow song. I can lead."

"If you lead. I suppose we can, Shepard." All breathy and sweet. "It's been many years since I've had formal lessons."

Of course she'd gone to classes for this.

Liara let her take her hand, and she couldn't help the grin on her face. Though from this angle, of course the archeologist saw it. But she could see the nervous look back, and could feel her breath on her neck since they were nearly the same height and the warmth from her waist that Shepard had a hand on. Better than touching herself in the Mako, trying not to breathe loudly. Although, of course after doing this, she was going to need a lot of time in the Mako.

I will not ruin this.

Fingers clasped.

I will be the smooth one that Liara can depend on. Crap. I can kinda see down her dress at this angle. It's awesome. Don't stare. My life is awesome.

Shepard didn't step on any toes. Or anyone. And if not particularly graceful, they at least didn't run into anyone. It was simple, with both of them looking at their feet and rotating in a square. Others passing were more enthusiastic with their swaying and showing-off-twirling that Shepard didn't dare even attempt or try to think about. But no one was being hurt, and that counted for something in her life. All she needed was to not look at those breasts, perfectly shaped like two scoops of ice cream, stop thinking that, stop looking, fuck, she noticed.

Jane had to play it off and distract those blue eyes. "Hey, Williams, better go cut in before your date runs off with that quarian girl. I saw the way she was working that straw."

And through the influence of command and alcohol, Williams scoffed, but did just that. Kaidan and Shepard exchanged glances, promising that if they remembered this tomorrow, they would never let Ashley live it down. Totally dancing with a turian, and possibly flirting with the poor nervous guy as Tali and Alenko laughed.

So then she wasn't the only one that had some xeno-crush. That helped.

Even seeing that groggy krogan didn't deter her from enjoying this moment. Weird instruments in the background, strange alien music with a huge string section. Louder than the discreet music that had played when she'd walked in here, pledging to herself not to drink. When the song was over, Liara pulled away, torn between some starry-eyed state and wracked with her usual nervousness.

"Thank you, Shepard. I enjoyed that."

Right then wouldn't have been a bad time to kiss her. To pull the blushing asari back into her arms.

"Can we sit down?"

"Oh, sure."

She stumbled over to an empty table, very aware of her hands. What were they doing there, on her sides, all limp and freckled? Had she really put them on Liara? A crazed fever dream, that's all this was. She was back on Eden Prime, dying, and her mind had concocted this entire thing. Or she was passed out in the bathroom with a vorcha hitting the partition and asking if she were alright, headfirst in the toilet and drowning.

"Would you like something more to drink? I'll go get us something." Liara was looking over her shoulder at Shepard every few steps, nearly tripping over her own feet. With the Commander grinning and feeling like an idiot, and loving that shade of plum.

If this was a dream, or the afterlife, Jane could live with it.

I didn't fuck this up, did I? Nope. I was awesome. Maybe even my dancing got better.

Right then, Benezia swooped in and nearly gave Jane a heart attack. If she'd still had that gum, she would have choked and died slowly right there, as the Matriarch looked on with satisfaction as clearly her daughter could do better. "It's nice to see my daughter has met someone."

She was incredibly, unbearable sober. "Oh. Yeah."

I am someone. Technically. Where the hell was Liara?

"I suppose it's time she took a lover. By her age, most asari have had several."

"Oh god." Was she getting a talk about being 'careful' with Liara? 'Lover'? She'd only danced with her, and looked There was some weird alien magic when it came to asari babies. Was there protection for that? Nope. There wouldn't be. She would get Liara pregnant in the back of some cab, as her mother had worried, until learning in some oblique way that her daughter was gay. Yet still, Shepard would find a way to get a woman to carry her biological kid, because that's how her life worked. Just like when she'd been on shore leave on Elysium. When the pirate slavers came to murder everyone.

She could see the pregnancy test right before her, positive, having to inform Benezia and possible scary father that she'd gotten their daughter knocked up. A mothering Liara, a kid that she had no idea what to do with but called her Dad and would grow up to resent her and end up in and out of jail, only to become an Eclipse mercenary addicted to red sand.

"Liara seemed to actively avoid having one thus far." Amusement. She had the same eyes as Liara.

I want a gun. And not because I am being stared down by a scary matriarch that's older than even my great-grandfather. I will feel better when I am armed. Secure. I have not touched Liara inappropriately. She is not going to get pregnant from me.

Did Liara not having a bunch of girlfriends give her an advantage? Or would Liara not be so worn down by so many bad dates to just shrug at Shepard's offer of eating in, and then eating each other out? There might be romance still in her soul, a hope for fancy dinners and holding hands at sunsets. Which Jane also wanted, deep down. Marriage and all that. But she'd long ago made her peace with simply hoping for a phone call every now and then, some mutual long-distance masturbation by way of long-distance calls to complain about their lives.

But I could do that romance stuff. Dates and candles and long walks on beaches. Yeah, I could do that. A bonfire and a bottle of wine on the beach. And should Liara want to talk via long-distance, I'll definitely pick up the charges for that.

"Mother? Commander Shepard?" Liara looked borderline frightened by seeing them together. Probably imagining Benezia pulling out baby pictures for Jane to coo over. Holding two drinks full of swirly straws and mini umbrellas in those blue hands, and Shepard could have loved her for that alone.

"'Commander' Shepard? Is that what you're calling her? I would have thought you'd be less formal by now."

Liara was trying her best not to make eye contact with a drowning Shepard. "We just met."

"I suppose it's better than that krogan. I guess that skips more than one generation."

"What are you talking about?"

A critical eye over Jane. "I suppose it makes sense that you would prefer not take a chance at bonding with another asari. I had no idea you had much interest in humans, Liara. Or in soldiers."

Was she looking at Shepard's chest? Was Benezia drunk? Was that disappointment? Were they that bad?

"But then Aeth and I met in a similar way. Well. In a bar with dancing anyway. Not much has changed in two hundred years. The matriarchs had sent her to Thessia, as a spy with only one real mission. Thankfully, I was able to convince her not to kill me. Brandy has never been the same for me since. When you reach the matron stage, you'll understand more, Liara. Though, it's good you finally found a lover.

"Can I trust you to get my daughter home, Shepard? Just make sure she'd home by lunch tomorrow. We have that meeting with the dalatrass, Little Wing, don't forget or I'll send the commandos." Then the Matrairch was waving goodbye, and heading for the door.

She just showed up, made Liara uncomfortable, then disappeared. Like a chilly wind blew up her dress. Only the sight wasn't so nice to Shepard.

"…"

"…so."

"I don't know what that was."

"I can get you home before lunch tomorrow. Definitely."

Uuuh. What the fuck, Shepard? I'll finish screwed you before brunch? Great.

And I won't be done, even then.

"Do you wanna get drunk?"

"…I think so."

"Probably not on brandy though?"

Liara shook a blue head, lost in her thoughts. Looking at those drinks, and realizing that it wasn't enough to get them loaded.

We'll get so drunk we'll both be vomiting in the bathroom, and then fall asleep in a closet, together. It will be magical. Even if those asari commandos end up dragging us out and Benezia yells at me. And Liara gets grounded.

Shepard retrieved shots and beer as Liara grimly emptied her first drink. She gave a brief 'sorry' to her kidneys and liver. Between this and the junk food she'd eat off duty, her insides must hate her. But not as much as her brain. Didn't alcohol kill brain cells? She was fucked. By the end of this night, her already awkward words were going to get even worse.

No more dancing. Do not totally stare at her chest, no matter how magnificent it is. Really, how does she have such a perfect profile? Is that something you compliment someone on? Do not say anything, because it will sound terrible. Do not watch Williams and that turian make out for too long, or else you'll look like a pervert. Do not tell Liara that you'd like to do that with her right now. Do not begin saying this list aloud.

Say, brain, since you're so smart, what happens when I get blind drunk and begin reeling? Will I still keep control of my stomach, that already has so many reasons to hate me? When I black out, are you gonna be there to make sure I don't try to grope Liara?

"Shepard. Shepard? I like your hair."

"Thanks?"

"It's a very dark red. Besides your freckles and green eyes, it was the first thing I noticed about."

"…thanks?"

What happens if I begin crying, brain, and begging her to come back to the Normandy with me? Or to a hotel room? Would Benezia pay for that? Shit, Benezia might be the best mother-in-law ever. So long as they were all drinking. And she didn't go into detail about her sex life.

"As I said." Liara seemed to be sinking into her chair. "I haven't spent much time around your species. You can be intimidating."

Jane did her best not to glance at her crew members playing grab ass with their new friends. Kaidan was losing, spectacularly. Between Garrus' reach and those claws, he was definitely winning, but Ashley was not one to go down without a fight. Especially with a turian. Or, maybe especially whatever sexual euphemism that might be implied there. The quarian was hiding beneath tables, as diplomats were slowly leaving.

"I guess I can see how you might think that."

"But I know you're not all brash. You are definitely in a position to change people's minds about the public opinion of your race."

Shepard could feel her face growing horrified. Gaping those green eyes and startled mouth. "I suppose I'm trying my best."

"The whole galaxy is looking at you as an example."

She should have definitely died on Eden Prime. Fuck. An example of what? God. Take another shot and pray for liver failure. You should say something. Eventually. Something nice. About…her freckles. That you'd probably still be curled up in the bathroom, sobbing, until someone sent Williams in there to drag her out, if not for her. Instead, you got to dance without people laughing, and maybe you can spend time with her in the future.

"I think I'd like to better get to know you. The chance for us to get to know each other better." And without your Mom setting a time limit on how long we'll have to do that. Because I have a lot of pent up energy, and a room with a bed in it.

"I'd like that too, Shepard. You're a fascinating woman. And we will be working together. To study the prothean beacon."

"Great."

"It'll be interesting to work with you, Shepard." Was there a snide, amused look in her perfect, round blue eyes? Perhaps this time you won't throw up, Shepard? Oh, we'll see, Liara.

"I swear, I can be professional. Just so long as it's on the job." Shepard joked, smiling as images of bending Liara over a desk danced through her head.

Damn those strange fantasies of hot librarians that let their hair down and bit the rim of their glasses in that teasing way. She could be Liara's student, the one that was always late with her homework. And library books. Sorry, teach, there goes my pencil, could you grab it for me? Disgusting, the things that went on behind this freckled face.

"Would it be alright if I asked you to walk me to my hotel room?"

"I'd like that."

"Not to imply that we would—oh, nevermind. I wish my Mother hadn't said those things."

"It's okay. I got it. I will be a perfect gentlelady."

A dark hotel room, stumbling around, you know, Liara, I don't think I can make it back to the Normandy, would it be alright if I spent the night here? Thanks. Only one bed? Oh. Well, I can sleep on the floor…no? If you say so, I might hog the cover though. Then passing out and snoring in a completely undignified manner that resulted in her waking up to vomit in the bathtub.

Or maybe having hot awkward sex on that hotel bed, fumbling hands, being very self-conscious of her boniness and her kissing technique and wondering how much the asari was enjoying her mouth. Then passing out and snoring and later vomiting in the bathtub. Something to pull apart later on, and make her feel alternatively better and worse about herself, depending on what she decided to reflect on.

"Thank you."

All these slimy fantasies that she knew would lead nowhere. At least Shepard would see her when they worked on the prothean beacon.

I got laid, and it was nice, but now she won't talk to me, and work is really awkward. Shepard could imagine that scene, having one had an awful one-night stand full of regret and bad fumbling, no, not that, you don't like that? Even if it went well, Liara was not exactly the most confident of people. She might be freaked out to spent time with Jane, or maybe would get all overly hung up on what they'd done. She was the clingy one, normally, and such a change might be disorienting.

It would be the sane thing, to say away tonight. When she sobered up and was in pants, Shepard surely had to be more on the ball than now. Then she could politely ask Liara out for dinner. Deal with Benezia while they were both sober, god help them all.

Sex, when you were definitely into the other person, was always better when not drunk out of your mind. A fact that Jane could have told Ashley. And Kaidan.

Maybe after that, Liara might be a little less formal. For now anyway, they were going to a possible date, and had spent hours pretty much alone together without anyone being set on fire. I have a shot, here, maybe.

She cocked an eyebrow at Liara. "Do you think, tomorrow, if our hangovers aren't too debilitating, we could go to that museum?"

"Of course, Commander Shepard."

"Do you want to have a toast? To the protheans? To the Council that helped throw this party? To us not being completely making asses out of ourselves in front of a large group?"

Liara's laugh lit her throat and stomach warmer than the alcohol. They tapped their shot glasses together in a toast, and watched their new friends act like sex crazed teenagers, complete with heated making out and scaring the mature adults away.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

No Exploding