I wasn't all too glad when Liara had been making to leave, and now that she was gone entirely, I felt even more grim. I was left alone in the silence of my room…to think. But I really, really didn't want to start that. And I hadn't wanted to tell Liara to stay either; I knew she had things to do, sleep to catch up on. I didn't want to burden her, seem anxious, wanting. Even though I was lately. I just didn't want to be alone with the portentous thoughts in my head, was all. I felt too tired to give them more of my attention, too stretched out, world-weary, alone. For once, I felt like having someone around, and a lot, I wanted her around in my life more; I wanted to talk, open up, just a little bit. Maybe lean on a soft and supple blue-skinned shoulder while I did it.

A smile stretched across my face at the thought, and I indulged in it, to help me push away the other things creeping back into my head. I breathed in a halting breath. My room, it always smelled different when she left. The air would stay thick with our quiet, spent emotions. Twinged with something perfect and primal that could almost whisper, or hum if it was any stronger. And it always smelled like us, together. A stodgy sensuous perfume that made my stomach shiver every time I smelled it or thought about it.

I myself hadn't ever known what being with another woman or an Asari, was really like for those who preferred that kind of thing, before. Until I found Liara, stuck on Therum. Then I understood pretty quick and jumped in headfirst. I bludgeoned my way past the rumours about her race, and past the secret looks of the Normandy crew, with an air of indifference. Liara sure looked like a chick, yeah. And she was going to see many more years of life than I was, but it was all alright. She was just Liara to me. And I loved her and that was it. The joy of being together, I found, was the same, complete, thrilling thing as it could ever be with anyone or any race. Something serious had happened between the two of, us, real fast after we met. Soon after inviting her to be a part of the crew. Liara was a breath of fresh air; she was open and kind, modestly sagacious and damn cute. I listened interestedly to what she had to say onboard the Normandy and off, back during the times when Saren had been running rampant with the Geth. I was intent on all her opinions, her thoughts regarding things that were important and non-important. I respected her, enjoyed her company. Found myself admiring the way she operated, the way she held and handled herself on the field and off. I liked who she was, simply, and it had sent sparks to flashing, soon to blaze, burning up a dawn in the hard nothingness within me.

I felt reenergized with her companionship, then finally curious, interested. The heaviness on my shoulders felt a little lighter when I was around her. Liara became a confidant to me and more on the Normandy, an irreplaceable intimate, especially after Noveria and Virmire and the time when the Normandy, and my work, had been grounded. I felt like I didn't have to take everything on by myself or overthink quite so much about the people surrounding and depending on me, or about myself. I liked her. Liked her personality, her heart, she was good, honest…and she was easy on the eyes as a stark bonus. Something that, I confess, startled me when at first, I had found myself thinking about her like that. I'd been uneasy about being with her at first too, in a physical way since things didn't stray from almost-kisses and stolen caresses before Ilos actually happened, because it was quite a shot in the dark for me, but I wanted it, and I played careless like I was an old-hand with such matters, just like I did with a lot of things cast my way. It was funnily surprising how good it had been. Normal, passionate, yet pleasantly unusual, new, inspiring. And the melding had sent us both careening over the edge of natural pleasure in a whole new way. It had been an unforgettable first time for both of us, in more ways than one. All of them good, though, really damn good. And thank goodness things had turned that way, too. I'd hate to have missed out on being with Liara just because I punked out in bed.

I sat up. The crisp white sheets, once covering half of my nakedness, fell crumpling down to my shins as I sat up and folded my legs close into my breasts. I put my chin on the hardness of my knees, looked around my room. The Loft, the crew called it. I smiled again; it was a fitting little nick. I liked the way it sounded on my tongue, I liked how it seemed to give the joint a softness in my imagination, a displacement, as if it wasn't even part of the Normandy. One feature in my room I wasn't really ecstatic about, though, was EDI's console. I liked EDI, she was a benign AI, intelligent, of course, spritely, and I trusted her, but I didn't really want her in my room. It made sense, of course though, logically, to have a console for her in it, protocol, safety… maybe Cerberus surveillance, all that. But I didn't have to like it. And I didn't.

I lifted my head up, turned and grabbed the little remote from my nightstand. Thumbing one of the many tiny buttons, I turned the lights down to a golden, dimmer glow, and turned my music on low. Soft beats and suave grooves slowly droned out from the player, filling the room pleasantly with a false life. Perfect static-distorted lyrics, low and unfeeling, harmoniously breached past the beats, droning on about something unintelligible. I dropped the remote on the firm mattress and got out of bed. Heading over towards the dark leather couch, quite comfortably naked, I picked up a finger-smudged wine glass that was still a quarter-full with red wine. I slurped down the stale, sour contents and then uncorked the lonely bottle to pour another, fresher, glass.

Sipping deeply at the velvety, room-temperature liquid, I stepped up towards the bathroom. I decided I wanted to get a little drunk. I might as well. It was only an hour past midnight, the night was long from being over, I wasn't tired yet, and I didn't want to think about anything. Wine and a really hot shower sounded a pretty good mix. The door to my bathroom hissed as it slid open when I approached. Entering, I put the wine glass on the sink and turned on the shower. Jabbing at the simple controls, I turned the shower on into a full, hard blast and made it hot enough to cloud the small bathroom up with gray-white steam.

I smiled widely. It was all fucking working so far. This thought-blocking. I took up my glass and downed all of the fresh wine in three big gulps. I smacked my tart lips after, put the glass back on the sink and stepped into the shower. I sucked in a breath at the water's temperature, but I didn't change it. I wanted to feel my skin seethe with the heat, wanted my heart to pump; I wanted to be breathless, to be heady, hot and numbed all at once. I wanted to simply feel, forget everything else, just for a little while, just for one night if I could manage it. Just to quiet the bleak, worried thoughts forever niggling at the back of my brain. Like a knife, the point just barely scratching against the topmost nub of my spine… I shook my head. Opened my mouth and tasted the hot, thick water, purified almost to an abnormal fault, as it beat down upon me.

Water coursed hotly, languid over my scalp and through my long, black hair. Watching as the water turned my hair into dark draggled tails that lengthened sloppily and began dribbling rivulets of clear shower-water down over the planes of my jutting collarbones, over my breasts and down the contouring lines of my hard, long stomach. Heat washed over me pleasantly, strong. I blinked with dew-dropped lashes and breathed as I concentrated upon the soft, tranquil sensations. My blood rushed with the intake of wine and the warmth. I absorbed it all like a sponge into my reddening, slick flesh; I sucked it in generously into my lungs as I was enveloped in passing moments of water and a smarmy cloud of steam and fog.

I must've stood inert, naked, wet and lost for over a half-an-hour. Just breathing deep, in some semblance of peace. Feeling my heart race madly beneath my breast, my mind as blank as the steam tendrils around me, as blank as the bland, severe light illuminating the tiny bathroom. I alternately stood and leaned against the hard walls enclosed around me, while I became steadily fainter with heat, dreamily dizzied, mellowly happy, even. I wanted to deny even thinking that maybe I heard the holo-com bleep outside of the bathroom door.

I craned my head slowly. My muscular arms were stretched out before me, elbows dripping water, my hands pressing hard against the slippery shower-wall, while I leaned my weight heavily against it. The bleep came again, unmistakeable, though it was muffled by the sound of the shower running and by the firmly closed door. I blinked wetly, sucked on my moistened lip, undecided. I didn't want to leave the shower, the place I had reached in my head, my heart. I was already starting to think, recall, instantly avoid, just from the sound outside the door. The com bleeped again. Urging me.

I sighed. Stood up on my feet, edgily jabbed at the controls mounted on the wall and the water stopped rushing. I wiped my slippery hands over my face and grabbed the towel hanging on the rack. I slung it haphazardly around my naked body as I stalked dizzily out of the bathroom. The com bleeped again, during that time. I could easily take a guess at who was paging me at this time of the night. It was the only reason I was about to answer the call. I had to. Wanted to, I suppose.

I sat down at my desk, my whole body thoroughly wetted, hair still dripping spills of water all over, and answered the holo-com. A nearly colourless hologram of Liara, looking tired but expectant flickered before me. "Hey," I said, sounding quieted even to myself, "Sorry for the wait." I tucked a bit of my wet hair behind my ear.

"That's alright," Liara answered, her voice low and soothing, "I'm sorry I disturbed your…shower."

I watched her large, pretty blue eyes glance at me, taking in what I'd been doing. "You didn't disturb anything," I mumbled, half-heartedly offering a smile, "Shouldn't you be in bed?" I jibed trying at acting casual. But she just smiled unenthusiastically. "Are you okay?" I asked slowly. I leaned in a little nearer to the hologram, trying to watch her features as distortions, statics played over them.

"Actually," she began, her luminous eyes wandering, "I was going to ask you that, Shepard."

I paused, just for a second, floundering a little at the implication of her reply. But I just felt like jumping back into the shower. I felt uncomfortable, too drained of energy to want to put any I could spare into the thoughts plaguing my mind since the Omega 4 Relay. "I'm fine," I said finally, "Just-not tired, yet." I forced a smile again.

Liara smiled, crookedly, looking cute, pure. "Neither am I. Do you want to talk?" she asked.

"About what?" I tested. But she decided not to answer. She just looked at me for a minute. I frowned, winced almost. Knowing she definitely knew something was up. "Liara," I rubbed my fingers into my strained eyes, "I-Not really, no. I'm sick of wasting time, talking about the same shit. And I don't want to-I don't want to do it to you." I dropped my hand, gazed at the hologram. The projection flickered over her beautiful face, wavered, tracking badly when she moved or blinked.

"I shouldn't have left."

I watched her stare into me intently. I smiled feebly at the simplicity, her knowingness. "No, it's alright," I waved my hand around, dismissively gesticulating, "I'm under control, Liara. You know I'll be better by tomorrow. What's…with all the questions? "

Liara smiled. "Shepard," she scoffed softly, "I could tell something was wrong while we were together. But I was distracted thinking about my work and tomorrow and…"

"And lost in my lovemaking, yes…" I joked.

Liara smiled wryly and shook her head. "Was sidetracked," she continued emphatically, "I should have asked if you wanted to talk while I was there. But I had the feeling you didn't want to say anything to me."

I looked at her, my smile fading from my face. I began biting my lip. I, suddenly being faced with a choice that I thought I had wanted, found that I didn't really want to talk about anything anymore. Just the inkling that, maybe perhaps I did, had already started enough trouble for me and for Liara, unfortunately. I didn't really know what I wanted anymore. The shower must've been too hot, probably cooked my brain a little.

"I," Liara broke the silence, "was unable to sleep anyways. I wanted to call. It was unfair of me to just leave you, knowing-"

I shook my head. "Liara, please don't," I implored, "It's not a big deal. We can talk together anytime, right." I offered her a frail smile, "It's not like I'm losing touch or anything, I just-Shit," I blurted out, "I'm sorry," I said inexplicably apologizing, "You probably should have just gone to bed."

"I know what is bothering you, Indrid," Liara said lightly, ignoring what I said to her, "Would you talk to me if I was there again?"

I felt my dark eyes darting. My wet head nodded itself subconsciously before I could even think about what I was going to answer. "I think I should, I guess. Yes," I conceded quietly, feeling blanked out.

Liara nodded. "I'll be there. What about the…crew?" her brows rose a little as she continued, "I have already spent most of the evening on the Normandy, I don't want people to-start talk..."

I lifted my brow at her comment. "Fuck the crew,"

"Indrid!" Liara breathed reprovingly, looking quietly surprised.

"I'll meet you at the airlock myself." I smiled at the hologram before me. "Don't wear anything too skimpy…Joker'll never come out of the bathroom again if he sees us."

Liara pursed her lips. "I thought we were just going to talk?"

"We'll talk," I reassured her, "I think I have to, need to this time. But I'm not going to take all night doing it." I grinned. "Was I really that transparent tonight?" I asked curiously, "I don't recall you melding, it was just 'us' wasn't it?"

Liara smirked. "I don't have to meld with you to know when you have something on your mind, Shepard. You tend to bite more often than usual."

I smiled widely and laughed a little. "I'm sorry, Liara." I shook my head derisively, I hadn't realized this before.

"I am not complaining, Shepard." Liara teased.

"Well," I rasped, taking her bait and getting a closer look at the hologram, "You better hurry up, T'Soni. I got a lot on my mind."

"I can't wait." Liara smiled and moved to disconnect.

In all seriousness, I stopped her. "Liara," I mumbled, looking intently, appreciatively, at her projection, "Thanks for calling." I hesitated for a second, then digressed. "I think I needed this."

She paused, retuning my stare in kind. Then smiled beautifully at me. "I'll see you soon," she whispered ardently, "You can thank me then."

I grinned momentarily as her projection fluttered, then disappeared. I bent my head when she was gone and rubbed at my eyes wearily for a minute. Dread hung like a jagged rock in the soft innards of my gut, but I knew penting everything inside wasn't good for me, or for the team, matter of fact. I had to get myself back in gear, and fast so I could do my job. The suicide mission had jostled me more than I'd like to admit, and the repercussions were going to be monumental. But I had to accept it. All of it. Come to grips and man-up, just like old times, though it was going to be a bigger show.

I thanked all the lucky stars in known space, that I had a soft, supple blue-skinned shoulder, loving enough to lean on and tough enough to grind me in the gut when I needed it.