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*plip, plip, plip*
Silvery, shimmering baubles splashed with all the colours of the rainbow; wobbling purples; drifting blues; daring greens; bubbles of all sizes danced along the surface of the warm bathwater, delighting the baby asari as she stabbed a chubby index finger into them mercilessly.
She was growing ever more curious and insatiably adventurous with every passing day, a trait- Liara had firmly insisted- that had undoubtedly been passed on to the girl from her thrill-seeking father. As the Commander sat with her back against the angled rear of the bathtub, she watched with great amusement as her daughter sat safely between her legs, bathing in the shallow water.
Amira was almost a year old now, a fact that some days Shepard had trouble wrapping her head around. It felt like just yesterday Liara had given birth to the precious little one; it felt like just the other day they both struggled to make it through the days after sleep deprived nights, woken up by cries of hunger or a wet diaper.
Now as she sat with the girl, who was endlessly entranced by the bubbles, she gently scooped up palm-fulls of the warm water and brought it up to dribble over the shoulders covered in pale freckles. With tender care that Liara had taught her to do, she pressed her thumbs into the crevices of the folds at the back of Amira's neck, scrubbing away the muck of the day. She'd learnt early on that this was a highly sensitive area, and it could be uncomfortable to the child if not done right.
The little one squirmed just a bit, more out of annoyance that the scrubbing was jostling her rather than the actions causing pain to her crest. She let out a high pitched whine, followed by unintelligible babbling as a tiny little blue hand raised up into the air, whooshing back down to land with an audible CLACK against Shepard's thigh.
The raven-haired woman flinched noticeably, the child's hand having smacked down on her badly scarred leg. The skin was still tight and shiny, mottled with bumps and a hatched pattern in some spots; she had suffered third degree burns to that leg, her armour having fused to the flesh when she was captured in the flames of the explosion on the Citadel.
She had refused artificial dermal replacement therapy, personally believing that any and all of her scars were a testament to what she had fought for, that being her very right to be here at this moment with a loving wife and daughter. Shepard was damned proud of her scars, and she wasn't afraid to show them to the world, wearing her favourite bikini during family beach trips and ignoring the hushed whispers she always heard from passer-bys.
"Did you see that woman's leg? It looked totally weird!"
"I know right? You'd think she'd at least have the decency to cover up with a beach skirt!"
A rosy blush had burned deeply along the war hero's face, her inner fear and doubt only finally being put to rest as blue digits intertwined with her own and squeezed tightly, the purest and warmest of smiles adorning Liara's face being all the reassurance she needed.
Liara loved her scars, insisting that they just gave her more character and made her all the more dashing, in her eyes. While she hadn't regained a lot of sensitivity in her scarred thigh, around the edges where deformed flesh met silken smooth, even the slightest touch felt like a hot match followed by pin-pricks.
That's why she had to struggle to keep the tinge of pain now coursing its way through her thigh from showing, biting down on her lower lip as she quickly took Amira's arm and moved it away from her leg.
"Honey, don't hit daddy, that's not very nice."
More babbling from Amira's mouth as the child took instead to slapping happily at the surface of the water, causing big clumps of bubbles to fly through the air and land on them both like warm, fluffy snow. A heavy sigh escaped Shepard's lips, realising her mouth was turning up into an unconscious smile despite herself, the pain slowly ebbing away. A quick shake of her head, and she returned to the task at hand, making sure she got Amira as clean as clean could be.
"Are my two favourite girls nearly finished with their nightly bathing ritual?" a coy voice sung from the doorway, the asari slowly making her way across the room with two fresh towels slung over her shoulder. Shepard's lips parted to reveal a crooked grin, her eyes almost the shade of a melting icicle, flecked with hues of swirling charcoal and dirty blues.
"Squeaky clean," announced the bathing woman triumphantly, carefully plucking up the slippery child from the soapy water and passing her up to Liara, fluffy peach towel wrapping around the small form while the Commander tilted her chin up and watched expectantly.
A musical chuckle spilled from Liara's lips, and she complied to the wishes portrayed by those dancing eyes, leaning further down to press a soft kiss to Shepard's lips before pulling away. The Commander's eyes followed her wife's lithe form, a silent and appreciative smile creasing her cheeks as Liara bounced Amira gently in her motherly embrace, brushing the towel over wet skin to make sure she was thoroughly dried.
Hands on the side of the tub for support, Shepard slowly eased herself up out of the water, her muscular legs twitching for support underneath her as she reached to pull out the plug, dribbles of water carving paths down her calves and tickling the skin. The drain bubbled and gulped as the liquid began to drain, a miniature whirlpool forming as clumps of white swam towards the exit.
Stepping out of the tub and onto the plushness of a woven mat, she took a moment to stretch out the stiffness of sitting in one position for an extended period of time. She cocked her head and closed her eyes as she worked tension out of a shoulder, a playful smile teasing at her lips.
"You gonna' come dry me off too babe?"
She was jolted out of her reverie as the second towel came flying at her, flapping lightly against her face and draping over her damp, tangled mess of hair. Frowning lightly, she could almost hear the grin that she was certain her wife must have been wearing right now.
"Suit yourself," she mumbled nonchalantly, grasping the fabric at its sides and pulling it away from her vision. She scrubbed forcefully to dry the damp spots on her hair, though she knew it would have to air dry on its own.
Liara finished towelling off Amira, dropping the damp object in the laundry hamper beside the bathroom cabinet and making her way out of the bathroom to dress the girl. Shepard wasted no time in wrapping her own towel around her still dripping form, shuffling her wet feet against the bath mat so she didn't track footprints though the house as she took off after her wife.
Just around the corner, the asari had entered their daughter's room, placing her down tenderly on the change table as she went to the wooden dresser. It was painted a pastel blue, one that Shepard herself had insisted upon as she felt it complimented their little girl's colour. The Commander smiled as she watched, her bond-mate opening the top drawer and picking up the first onesie she found; a creamy white pair covered in little giraffes and zebras.
Shepard grinned to herself as she stood watching her lover, first putting a clean diaper on their daughter with the speed and precision of a diaper-change-master, then appreciating the cute pyjamas that she was now wriggling onto the cooing child.
Once they had their first visit to a zoo here on Earth, Liara had become practically enthralled by the variety of animals and creatures that the planet had to offer, and had taken to researching far and wide for the best zoos and animal reservations that hadn't thus far been destroyed by the reapers. Some were even brand new to replace those that had been destroyed in the war.
Her obsession had carried over to Amira as well, purchasing any clothing she could for the child that displayed adorable Earth creatures and cute catch phrases. There was also a large mound of plush animals strewn about Amira's play area, and although she insisted they were just for their daughter, the human could see the way Liara's stormy blue eyes sparkled with enjoyment whenever she 'talked through the animals' for their little one.
Long, delicate fingers buttoned up the onesie, the corner of Liara's lips turned up in the corners, her eyelids lowered and displaying a softness that conveyed all the love and adoration a mother could possibly have for her daughter. Shepard felt her heart jolt in her chest, her breath catching in her throat for just a second as she watched her lover gingerly pick up Amira and carry her over to her crib.
The human wandered over, a hand hardened and covered in all manner of white lines from battle scars still soft and soothing as it found Liara's waist; the smooth cotton fabric of the asari's T-shirt felt good under the Commander's fingers, though not as good as she knew the skin underneath would feel.
A few kisses planted to Amira's forehead, the little one's mouth stretching out in an almost silent yawn signalling that it was that time of night as her mother carefully placed her down in her crib.
"Goodnight, little Amira," Liara whispered softly, her eyes blinking slowly as she finally turned around to meet her lover's gaze, the human noting to herself that the asari looked like she could pass out the second her head hit the pillow.
"What about you, Mrs. T'soni-Shepard? I think I hear the bed calling your name," the teasing tone mixed with adoration made the asari blush lightly, a barely audible laugh rolling off her lips as she wrapped both of her arms over her wife's shoulders.
"Mmm, I must admit, I wouldn't be opposed to you picking me up in your strong embrace and carrying me across the threshold my love," the softness in her voice was absolutely adorable, Shepard felt herself melting as she stared into those tired eyes and unwavering smile, leaning in to take the softest taste she could of those blueberry lips.
Liara hummed contentedly into the kiss, her legs almost buckling under her; it amazed her how even to this day Shepard could make her entire body turn to jelly from the slightest touch. If someone had told her back before they met on Therum that she would one day turn to putty in the hands of a human, she would have scoffed at such a ridiculous idea, and yet here they were.
"Alright, just let me say goodnight to the bub, then I shall be at your beck and call for the rest of the evening."
The asari bit her lower lip and laughed ever so softly at the remark, watching as her lover wriggled out of her embrace and over to the crib. A kiss was pressed to Shepard's fingers, which she then leant down and gently stroked against Amira's cheek, who was now having difficulty keeping her tiny little eyes open.
Shepard let out a low laugh as her daughter managed to grab onto her fingers, holding on and squeezing as best as she could with a babbling that could almost have been mistaken for "da-da" if she hadn't have kept repeating it like a song only she knew the lyrics to.
"Daddy loves you angel, ni-ni, don't let the bed bugs bite."
Turning away from the crib, she had to hide the cheesy smile that was holding her face hostage, moving in and scooping Liara up into her arms so quickly the asari's eyes almost popped out of her head and she let out a high pitched yelp; her legs were flung out from under her, arms wrapping deathly tight around her wife's neck in an attempt to gain her bearings again.
Jovial laughter bounced around the room, the Commander being quite pleased with herself as she began carrying the curvaceous form of her wife bridal style out of the bedroom. Those questioning blue eyes flitted as they peered up at the woman holding her safely in her arms, her body finally easing into the embrace. Her fingers wound themselves into the thicket of black locks that fell over Shepard's shoulders, and she eventually found herself nestling her flushed face against the nearest collarbone.
At some point during the trip to their own bedroom, Shepard's towel had come undone and fallen from her body. Thankfully, by the time they finally fell onto the mattress together, the last thing Liara was thinking about was sleeping. In fact, the asari was eternally grateful for the fact that her efforts that night had not been impeded in the least by clothing, let alone a bath towel.
