A/N: This one's for Oziic, who wanted to know the story behind "Never startle a Spectre".

Better Angels 'verse, but is totally standalone. Characters etc. belong to Bioware, and I'm not getting anything out of this except some great fun.

Dr. Liara T'Soni, daughter of matriarchs, archaeologist, Prothean researcher, and mission specialist aboard the Systems Alliance frigate SSV Normandy, had never considered herself particularly stealthy.

As a child, she had inevitably been caught red-handed in any attempt to sneak biscuits or sweets from the kitchens. As an adolescent, she had been clumsy and awkward, forever tripping over her own feet or walking into things, a state that had persisted for far longer than the growth spurts that precipitated it. For about twenty years, she had been in an almost perpetually bruised condition between one thing and another, although she would admit, as her mother had exasperatedly pointed out too many times to easily count, walking around with her nose in a book had not helped matters.

Fieldwork had cured her of most of her youthful coltishness - the need to exercise extreme care when excavating and handling artefacts had given her cause to pay attention to her physical shortcomings. After seeking advice from Shiala, the captain of her mother's security detail, she'd begun to take lessons in martial arts, partly to help develop a fitness regime that she could adhere to in confined quarters and partly to heighten her awareness of her body and her surroundings and sharpen her reflexes. She became adept at avoiding obstacles, even with her nose in a book (which for some reason seemed to provoke Benezia's irritation far more than the bruising ever had).

What she had never attained, however, was the skill of sneaking. Shiala had diligently and patiently drilled her in biotic combat, basic marksmanship, and some rudimentary physical self-defence, but Liara's interest in more advanced commando techniques had been minimal at best. She'd enjoyed the mental exertion of mastering her biotic abilities, but mastery of the art of killing had never interested her. As soon as she became competent enough to protect herself, by Shiala's stringent reckoning, she had turned her attention to other pursuits.

Commander Rachel Shepard, by contrast, could be a stealthy as a sneak thief when she chose. Countless hours of working out to attain physical excellence coupled with the training laid down in the toughest school of special forces doctrine ever devised by humanity, a program from which only the best of the best could hope to graduate, had given Shepard the body of a competitive athlete, whip-snap reflexes, and a total harmony of spatial awareness and body mechanics that imbued her every move with a lethal, predatory precision. And she worked hard to maintain her skills. Soft-footed as hunting sabre-cat, she had startled Liara nearly out of her wits on several occasions. Aware of her position, her surroundings and her body at all times, Shepard was also practically impossible to sneak up on, as countless attempts by Ashley, Garrus, and Kaidan had proved over the course of many drills. (Wrex, like Liara, had never deigned to try. "Krogan don't sneak," he proclaimed. "If I want you dead, you'll see me coming. With my shotgun pointed at you.") On a day-to-day basis, Liara had never once managed to approach Shepard without the commander knowing she was there, and over time, Liara simply stopped being surprised by it, coming to take it for granted that the human was always aware of her.

All of which explained why, on their first evening back aboard the Normandy after an idyllic week of shore leave spent entirely in one another's company, Liara didn't even think to announce her presence as she stepped into Shepard's cabin at the end of the day. Her lover was working at her desk, her back to the room, fingers dancing over the haptic interface as she wrote up some sort of document. Liara waited for a few minutes, anticipating a break in activity, hopeful of gaining the human's undivided attention for a welcoming kiss, but when nothing was forthcoming, she decided to force the issue. Walking up behind Shepard, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the human's cheek.

Pain exploded across her nose and everything went white, then black.

"I think she's coming round, Commander."

"Oh, thank God. Liara?"

Liara groaned. Her nose was throbbing, and as she cracked one eye open she was presented with a bleary view of a set of ceiling-mounted lights that were blazing with an obnoxious excess of radiance. Squeezing her eye shut, she rolled her head slightly to one side, and as she did she felt a warm hand slide onto her cheek. Opening both her eyes, she was greeted this time by the sight of a worried-looking Commander Shepard peering at her. It was Shepard's hand that was resting against her face, fingers lightly stroking her neck. She smiled as soon as she saw Liara looking at her, but the expression did not touch her eyes. "Hey. How do you feel?"

Liara considered this briefly. "My nose is a little sore, and I'm confused." Behind Shepard, beyond the glaring pool of illumination from the examination lights, she could make out enough detail to see that she was in the medical bay. "How did I get injured? Shepard, what happened?"

Shepard dropped her gaze to study the side of the bed with sudden intense interest, and a warm red flush spread across her face. Her free hand strayed up to rub at the back of her neck.

"What's the last thing you remember, Liara?" Dr. Chakwas' voice enquired from somewhere behind her. The doctor sounded amused, and as Liara rolled her head to look up at her, dislodging Shepard's hand in the process, she could see that the older woman was trying very hard not to laugh. Shepard shot her a dirty look from somewhere under the fall of her hair, then returned to her inspection of the sheets.

"I..." Liara thought for a moment. "I walked into Shepard's quarters, and," she sat up a little, the better to address both members of her audience, "you were working, Shepard, but I wanted to say hello, so I walked up behind you and kissed you on the cheek." She tried to think past that moment, but drew a blank. "I don't remember what happened after that."

Chakwas burst out laughing, unable to contain her mirth any longer. "Why don't you enlighten Liara, Commander?"

Shepard looked up and drew the doctor positively filthy look, then turned to Liara, face flaming with embarrassment, eyes full of guilt. "I… hit you," she admitted reluctantly. "I didn't hear you come in, I didn't see you, and when I felt you touch me, out of nowhere, it startled me and I… I just reacted. It was reflex, I didn't…" she leaned in and kissed Liara gently on the forehead, "I didn't do it consciously, I would never hurt you, I… God, I'm so, so sorry, Li."

Liara reached up to touch her nose gently with her fingers. "You hit me?" she repeated, completely nonplussed. She didn't remember a thing.

"She got you good," Dr. Chakwas chuckled. "Broke your nose. Luckily it's a hairline fracture and I've set it and dosed it with medigel, so it won't swell and it won't be disfiguring, but it will be uncomfortable for a little while."

Liara looked over at Shepard, intending to join in with the doctor's teasing, but the urge died as she looked at her forlorn lover, reading shame and guilt in every line of her posture from the lowered gaze to the awkward way in which she was sitting half-off the bed, as though conflicted about whether Liara wanted her there or not. Reaching out, she picked the Spectre's hand up and gave it a squeeze. "Rachel?"

Shepard looked up, biting at her lower lip, and Liara used her grip on her hand to pull her forward so that she had no choice but sit fully on the bed. "It's OK," she soothed. "I know you wouldn't have hit me on purpose. I just assumed you knew I was there. I've never ever been able to sneak up on you." She lifted Shepard's hand and placed a kiss against her knuckles. "It's OK," she repeated.

Shepard smiled slightly, some of the guilt lifting from her countenance. She looked over at Chakwas. "Can I take her home, Doc?"

"Only if you promise to strap pillow to your elbows, and put some sort of bell on Liara," the doctor joked, but the smile in her eyes was one of genuine approval rather than mirth. "She's absolutely fine, and I'm discharging her to your custody for the night. Go on, shoo, the pair of you."

Liara nodded. "Thank you, Doctor," she acknowledged as she sat up.

"Wait," Shepard instructed. She stepped in close to the edge of the bed, slid one arm around Liara's back, and the other under her knees, and hoisted her into her arms. "Don't squirm, I don't want to drop you."

Liara obediently nestled into her lover's hold, revelling in the human's protective strength as Shepard carried her quickly across the mess deck and back into the privacy of the captain's cabin. The commander set her down on the bed and sprawled out alongside her, resting one hand on Liara's stomach and propping herself up on her elbow. "I can't apologise enough," she said ruefully, "God, I can't believe I did that to you."

"I can't believe you didn't hear me," Liara countered. "I wasn't even trying to be quiet. And there's no need to keep apologising."

"Yes there is," Shepard disagreed stubbornly. "How else are you to know how sorry I am?"

Liara giggled, and then winced. "Oh, don't make me laugh. How am I to tell how sorry you are?" She tapped Shepard on the forehead with two fingers. "I can see for myself, if you'll let me."

Shepard looked momentarily bewildered, and then, as realisation dawned, she blushed again and began to laugh. "Doing really well tonight, aren't I?" she groaned. Sliding her arm across Liara's body, she rolled over until she was lying snug against Liara's side. "I'll let you look on one condition."

"What's that?" Liara asked.

"That you let me make this up to you by kissing it better."

Liara didn't recognise the idiom, but if there was kissing involved she was more than willing to let Shepard demonstrate. "I'm intrigued, Commander. Please do feel free to 'kiss it better'."

Shepard grinned. "Yes, ma'am."