Yalla Tnam
by owelpost
…
Tiny, sweat slicked-fingers tremble as they close over hers. As soon as Shepard snags the kid's hand, she does not let go. She swiftly drags the runt out of the ductwork and pulls her to her chest.
The child whimpers just before she presses her face against the soldier's neck. Shepard forgot how vulnerable children are. Did she ever know? She's never spent much time around miniature humans at all. In fact, they scare the crap out of her. Maybe she should just put it back?
No. The child's tears burn her neck.
Anderson shouts. As she starts to move, she doesn't have to worry about making sure the little one is secure in her arms; she's like a leech, stuck on Shepard. It might be impossible to extract her without some sort of exterior aid. Like salt.
Shepard shakes her head and the tiny person whimpers again.
"Shh. It's okay. I'll make sure you're safe," Shepard promises, although her voice is unsteady. She is unfazed by all the things with guns that are out to kill her, but she's stricken with fear by the presence of a child? Absurd!
When she reaches the admiral, she is impressed that he scarcely reacts. He tries to take the child from her, but the kid clings to her with unfathomable strength. The commander shakes her head, telling him without speaking that she's okay. She'll deal with this pint-sized burden on her own. He smiles tightly, gestures ahead of them, indicating a narrow passageway through rubble and debris.
They barely manage to rendezvous with the Normandy. Shepard shifts the little one's weight for better balance and jumps up onto the loading ramp. Lieutenant Vega, the beefy marine that has been guarding her cell since her incarceration after the alpha relay tragedy, helps her aboard.
Major Alenko is there too. Kaidan keeps his face impassive, but Shepard knows what he's wondering. Why is she hauling a child aboard the Normandy? She wonders herself as she catches her dog tags from Anderson and bids him good luck.
Small, trembling fingers close over the thin, shiny metal tags that dangle from the commander's fist. Shepard frowns. She would much rather have Anderson aboard than a dirty, snot-nosed, frightened child.
…
Liara dispatches the Cerberus soldiers quickly and with little finesse. She's been crawling through the ductwork, dirtying her pristine armour. If she didn't hate Cerberus before, that's enough of a reason right there.
There is a slight consolation. When she straightens and turns around, she is surprised to find Shepard there. Standing next to the commander is Kaidan. What she had with the man is long over, but Liara's heartbeat quickens anyway. She remembers well the feel of his rough hands—
Who is that mountain beside Alenko?
Liara has to shake herself. She can't indulge wanton thoughts at a time like this, even if they do keep roiling terror at bay. When she finally meets Shepard's gaze, the commander's eyes are narrowed and she's scowling. Liara soothes the human's frown by stepping forward, gripping her by the elbow and drawing her into a tight embrace.
"Shepard, thank the goddess you are alive."
Shepard leans back, startled. She blushes furiously. "You too, Liara."
"I was so worried when the reports came in. I'm sorry… about Earth." The human's eyes flutter closed and her face twists for a fraction of a second; those who don't know her would miss the anguish there. Liara hugs her for a moment longer, trying to emphasize the sincerity of her words.
Then, regrettably, it's back to business. Cerberus needs schooling, after all, and Shepard isn't really there for Liara. She's there for the Prothean plans, under orders from Admiral Hackett. Liara tells them as much as she knows, trying to keep her eyes from straying to the hulk beside Shepard.
She decides she likes the way his hair is longer in a thin strip in the middle than it is at the sides. She can't wait to run her fingers through it.
…
Kaidan is laid out on the medical bed, crushed, bruised. Broken. Shepard stands over him, obviously in shock. Liara has never seen the commander like this, though she understands completely; she is barely holding herself together. At least Kaidan's handsome features are relaxed and not twisted in pain. That might have been too much.
Sucking in a breath, she says Shepard's name. The commander does not respond. Liara grabs her hand, leans down so their faces are close together. The human flinches. "Kaidan needs medical attention." Liara knows her voice is a little too insistent, her grip crushing. "We have to leave the Sol system!"
"I know."
"The Citadel is the best place to get help."
Shepard looks away. She directs a command at the ceiling. Liara sighs in relief. She still holds Shepard's hand, gentler now, as she touches Kaidan's cheek with her free hand. She can feel Shepard's eyes on her. When she looks up, the commander closes off her expression, removes her hand. Liara has no idea what she's thinking. All the human says is, "See what you and EDI can learn from that thing."
Liara looks at the soot and scorch marks covering the mech. She wrinkles her nose, knowing she's going to get dirtier than she already is by the time she's done. She really needs to learn not to wear her white lab coat when there's a possibility of Reaper invasion.
Movement beyond Shepard catches her attention, and Liara shifts to improve her sightline. A small human dressed in an oversized t-shirt, skinny brown legs poking out, stands in the middle of the medical bay. The child's beautiful, sienna eyes go round as she stares at Liara. It takes a moment for the strangeness of what Liara's seeing to wear off.
"Shepard—" Liara begins, cut off when an unfamiliar woman rushes into the room.
"I'm so sorry, Commander," the newcomer says in a flustered, accented rush, as she takes the child's hand. "She saw you come through the mess hall and she ran after you before I could stop her."
Shepard goes rigid. She looks as though she needs an escape. Liara hides a smile behind her hand. When she's sure she can control her amusement, she approaches the Alliance tech (judging by the badging on her uniform) holding onto the child. She hastily smiles at the tech before kneeling in front of the saucer-eyed youngster. "Hi sweetheart," she says. "I'm Liara. What's your name?"
The child does not answer; she merely continues to stare.
"She hasn't said anything since the commander rescued her," the tech explains.
Without warning, a small hand reaches out and touches Liara's face. It's hesitant, gentle, and Liara realizes that the little one has likely never seen an asari up close before, if at all. She carefully holds her arms out in invitation, moving slowly so as not to startle the girl. The child suddenly grins and rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Liara's waist. Lifting her, Liara glances at Shepard. The commander has gone pale. Liara presses her lips together to fight off another smile. Little fingers trace the ridges of her crest, tickling. Liara laughs.
"Specialist, I want you to make arrangements to leave, uhm… her at the citadel," Shepard says stiffly, before edging her way around everyone. The doors whoosh shut behind the commander and the tech visibly relaxes.
"Is she always so gruff?" she murmurs before catching herself.
Liara thinks she'll let the specialist discover the answer to that for herself. She shifts the little one, who now rests her head on the asari's shoulder, and extends her hand forward in traditional human greeting. "Dr. Liara T'Soni," she says.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Liara likes the way the specialist blushes; it's almost imperceptible against her caramel complexion. It's a refreshing change from the rugged marines that normally populate the Normandy. "Samantha Traynor. Alliance Communication Specialist." Her fingers, delicate and perfectly manicured, grip Liara's. Years ago, Liara researched the custom. She knows that the firmer the handshake, the more respect should be accorded. Traynor's grasp is solid and confident, despite what the rest of her body language indicates.
"Pleasure," Liara says.
"Uhm," the specialist's blush deepens, "Yes. Uhm, well, I suppose I should unburden you."
"I think she might be asleep," Liara says. Actually, she knows the child is sleeping. She can tell by the slow, even breaths that tickle the side of her neck. "Would it be all right if I held on to her for a little while?" She needs a healthy distraction to keep her mind off of Kaidan.
"I don't…" she stops, looks Liara over carefully. "I guess that's okay. It'll give me a chance to figure out who she is. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Absolutely not."
"Right. Okay. Thank you. I'll come back later for her, yeah?"
"Certainly. Take your time."
Traynor hesitates. Liara knows the specialist is disobeying orders; obviously, she's been given charge of the little one, and she's still unsure of how Shepard will react if the commander finds out she shirked her duty. So Liara smiles again, reassuringly. "Go on. If anything happens, I'll cover for you," she says and winks. The specialist's mouth opens slightly. She closes it, turns around, and scurries for the door.
Liara is still smiling as she settles herself at the computer terminal that used to belong to doctor Chakwas. She gently rubs the child's back and uses her free hand to fire up the system. "Just you, me, and the robot," she whispers.
…
Author's Note: I wanted to do something a little lighter to balance Glacial Fire, so this is what I came up with. Thanks to WordKrush and Midnight Lion for their input.