Author's Notes:
This a spinoff to my current story "Old Friends Revisited" and takes place while the events in that story are unfolding. It revolves around Lysandra, an asari emissary who currently resides on the Citadel and is told entirely from her POV. The four chapter arc will focus on the moments after each Lysandra/Shepard exchange in OFR.
This is a collaborative endeavor with another FFN author – Lyaksandra, who also graciously offers her time to my beta read my stories. Since you (the reader) like ME, I highly recommend you check out her story "Walked Amongst Giants"… one of my favorites.
Now on with the story… after the events in chapter 2 of "Old Friends Revisited"...
Desire
The night cycle had just arrived to the Citadel, and like all artificial environments, the darkness was eerily absolute. A single light came alive in the small kitchenette of the well-equipped and luxurious embassy suite, revealing the lissome figure of Lysandra, asari emissary. She was wearing a one piece, black work-out leotard with a single wide silver strip that ran along its whole length. It gave the clothing a streamlined look and accentuated the curves of the body it covered with brazen splendor. There were several darkened patches in the cloth, indicating that the asari had concluded her exercise routine just recently.
Lysandra stood still and regarded the kitchenette for a while, as she often did, wondering if it would ever see any use. She knew how to cook—there was very little Lysandra didn't know how to do, but there simply never seemed to be time for it. Or adequate company. Especially the company. She seemed to be surrounded by boorish people. The uninvited image of Shepard assaulted her mind at that thought. Ever since that afternoon the human had been intermittently appearing in her mind, much like the ghosts that haunt a conscience riddled with guilt. It was all just so peevishly frustrating. How had she failed to affect the Spectre as much as she wanted?
Now she really needed to take a bath. Lysandra always enjoyed soaking her weary body after a good multiplayer session of Battle Zone Omega and working out, but today she really needed the warm caress of the water to put her nerves at ease. Although, there had been aspects of her encounter with the human that gave her some peace of mind. Yes, Shepard had resisted her very well, but Lysandra had perceived that it hadn't been without some effort. The human had stiffened just a little here and there, blinked too fast when the asari had closed the distance between them, when they had practically shared the same breath.
Even though the aftermath of their meeting had left Lysandra feeling acutely frustrated, it also left her feeling a certain fascination. Almost no one was able to resist her when she fully poured herself into a conquest, there simply were very few walls capable of holding back such an onslaught. Yet, there was Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, hero of the Citadel. Could it be that the human was actually everything the masses had made her up to be? She certainly had seemed like it when they met face to face.
Grinning shrewdly, Lysandra was already savoring a moment she was certain would come in time. When the elusive Shepard would be hers to do as she wished, when the playful Shepard would answer to her every whim. The mere notion of such an enthralling triumph made Lysandra lick her lips expectantly, the thrill of the hunt already coursing through her veins. This quarry would be like no other, maybe she would even have to make an extra effort. It was possible that the kitchenette would finally see some use; the rousing occasion would certainly call for it were Lysandra to succeed.
As she bent down to open the wine drawer that was located in the lower part of the large refrigerator, Lysandra shook her head and then mentally corrected herself. Of course she would succeed. But then the cooking would be pointless. Shepard was too special, too large a prize for things to end in companionship. No, Lysandra wanted to claim the human so utterly, so completely, to feast on her very essence until nothing was left but an empty husk. This couldn't end any other way, having someone like the Commander was a chance she would only see a very few times in her entire life.
The asari emissary allowed herself a satisfied smile as she pulled a bottle of fine asari wine from the drawer. Shepard would be hers—she was beginning to feel certain about that fact, and it was comforting to once more feel completely sure of herself. Lysandra pushed the drawer closed with the heel of her foot, and pulled an exquisitely etched glass from one of the cabinets. With that, she was ready for her bath, so she turned off the light and sauntered away from the kitchenette she apparently would never use.
She was going to enjoy this bath, let it renew her like the delicious spring rains back in Thessia, and then she would hunt Shepard with all her might. Her step gained a little spring and her hips a touch of a sensuous sway as she approached the master bedroom. The fluidity of movement came to her naturally once she had relaxed. Actually most of her seductive demeanor wasn't something she purposefully acted out, it was who she was. In her dealings with other people, she merely applied it carefully at the precise points in every situation she found herself in.
When she entered her bedroom, Lysandra promptly turned the light on and set both the bottle of wine and the glass on one of the night tables beside the bed. She then proceeded to gracefully slide out of the sweat soaked leotard. It wasn't something she would wear again until it was washed, so after the cloth pooled at her feet, she collected it and placed it in a special container. She gathered the bottle and glass, then gave the area a quick inspection. The room seemed to be in perfect order—tidy, clean, everything in its designated place—just the way she liked it. Satisfied with the bedroom, Lysandra walked into the bathroom, and ran her eyes over every aspect and item in there. Being organized was something that provided her with a sense of security and control, so she always strived to limit the chaos to a certain extent wherever she resided. Then again, filling the bathtub up to a precise level would most likely be perceived as excessive by anybody else's standards.
Lysandra sighed contentedly as she lowered herself in the hot water, the aromatic salts filling her sense of smell with exquisite fragrances purchased directly from a specialty shop back in Thessia. Bathing was very important. Maintaining good hygiene was another form of discipline, but it also was enjoyable and relaxing. Lysandra would simply be incapable of not sparing any cost to have a first-class bathroom in her personal quarters. Whether they were provided or she rented them herself.
As she further lowered herself into the bathtub, the emissary took a sip from the glass of wine that she had poured while the tub was filling, and allowed its flavor to momentarily remain in her mouth before swallowing. The purplish liquid was delicious, and for a moment, she fancied what the flavor of Shepard's lips would be. Certainly as flavorful and complex as the wine, if not better. And what of the other things? Perhaps the human's skin would be silky and warm like the water. To accentuate the idea for fun, Lysandra scooped some water with one hand, and relished the hauntingly soft sensation of dropping it along her arm. Then she took a long, deep breath. What of the smell? That could certainly be improved upon. Shepard had smelled of human herbs, sweet and musky, that much Lysandra did know. More like weeds, but she would get the Commander to change that, and she already had in mind exactly to what. If Shepard loved herbs so much, Lysandra knew of a few shops in Thessia that sold the finest and rarest aromatic herbs in the entire galaxy.
She was going to thoroughly conquer Shepard and then mold her to her tastes—polish some of those rough spots inherent to every gem worthy of praise. Like that intriguing scar across the human's face, which showed that the Spectre obviously wasn't afraid of being physical, and Lysandra would just love to get physical with her. That scar was a testimony of the Commander's strength, a mark that said she was not to be messed with even if she seemed exquisite and delicate. Yes, the rough spots made Shepard even more attractive, more bewitching, and the chase all the more alluring, because then she would be able to shape the human to her whims. A small mewl of pleasure escaped Lysandra's lips.
In the almost complete silence of the bathroom, the asari emitted a throaty chuckle through her smiling lips as she toasted alone to her success.