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Shepard was slow to find consciousness. Her mouth tasted like a Batarian spittoon and her head spun like the Normandy during evasive maneuvers. She was lying uncomfortably on her side, both hands tucked next to her head. She opened her eyes and blinked, attempting to clear the crud. Lifting her head slightly, she absorbed enough of her environment before having to slam her lids shut to combat the strobe of the club's lights.

Attempting to rise turned out to be a very bad plan. She slid sideways, catching herself on her hands and knees next to the couch with her chin touching her chest as she fought to keep her stomach under control. Her breath came in short, erratic bursts.

"Don't do it, Shepard. You will be sorry."

Aria T'Loak's warning came too late. Shepard lost the battle with her stomach and heaved copious amounts of undigested alcohol all over the floor next to the very pissed off asari. Aria made a disgusted noise and planted a firm toe in Shepard's side. She applied a little pressure and the commander fell over, curling into a ball and clutching her stomach.

Aria crouched down next to her and used her hair to wrench her head back. Shepard tried her best to focus on the asari's face, but her eyes were watering badly and she couldn't decide which of the three the real Aria was.

"Vile. The fate of the galaxy rests on a sorry excuse for a human who can't even hold her alcohol? You disgust me." Aria let Shepard's head fall back to the floor as she rose to her full height, looking down on the commander through narrowed eyes.

"Fuck you," Shepard managed as she pushed herself up until she leaned on one hand.

To her surprise, Aria threw her head back and laughed. "You couldn't manage to fuck a primed maiden, Shepard, what makes you think you could entertain me?" Aria extended a hand to help Shepard up. She simultaneously motioned to one of her attendants, who brought over a large glass of water. Aria situated Shepard upright on the couch and handed her the water. "But that's much better. More like the Shepard I know, not at all like the coward that showed up here a couple of hours ago."

Shepard rested her forehead against the cold sweat on the outside of the glass, squeezing her eyes shut. She tried desperately to remember how she had ended up passed out on Aria's couch.

The corner of the commander's mouth turned down as she coaxed the fuzzy memories to the surface. Shepard would not normally tolerate being called a coward, but in this case it seemed Aria may have been correct. She had kissed Liara, had allowed Liara to kiss her again. She had been drunk and Liara had been alternately hard and vulnerable, somehow working her way through Shepard's defenses. No one had ever been able to manipulate her as Liara could, although she doubted the asari knew how pliable she made the commander.

It wasn't until she had gripped Liara by the waist to try to lower her to the mattress and the asari had gasped in pain that Shepard came to her senses. She had immediately backed away, sliding off the bed and all but flying from Liara's quarters. The commander had escaped to Purgatory for oblivion. She drank until their conversation—the scorching reality of their kiss—had become a hazy mess and she forgot that Liara suffered because of damnable altruism.

"Listen, Shepard, you and I are a lot alike. If we find it intact, we have a tendency to break it." Aria sat down next to the commander and spread her arms across the back of the couch, glancing over at Shepard with steely blue-gray eyes. "Sometimes a thing needs to be broken in order to mend it."

The commander stared at the water, watching little droplets of condensation form on the bottom of the glass before swelling and falling away. It reminded her of the way blood had dripped from Liara's fingers. The thought of Liara bleeding caused Shepard's hands to involuntarily bunch into tight fists. Her whole body vibrated as tension coursed through her. She had taken a leap forward by opening herself up to Liara, expressing her feelings in her repressed way. Although, in reality it felt like she had staggered several paces back.

Coward.

Aria shifted closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "You didn't even have to work at breaking your little asari." Shepard's jaw tightened, her eyelids narrowing in silent, deadly warning. Aria ignored her. "When Feron dragged her to Omega, he tried to shield her by acting as a buffer. I teased her a little, asked her if she'd been able to speak for herself when she was on the Normandy." Aria's teasing lilt stiffened at the sight of Shepard's fierce expression. "But that timid archeologist transformed herself into something more for you, didn't she? You were dead and she was splintered—forced to become something more than she was. Yes, I'd say she did all the work for you."

Shepard shifted, angry and uncomfortable. She had little idea of what Liara had gone through to obtain her dead body. She never bothered to ask the asari. She didn't need the details to feel the guilt. The fewer specifics she had, the easier it was to stuff the responsibility for Liara's current demeanor into the deepest, darkest hole within her psyche. The only time she had acknowledged it aloud had been with Traynor, during a brief moment of weakness while Liara lay bleeding in the med bay.

"Enough," Shepard muttered, pressing her face into her hands.

Aria shrugged her shoulders and looked away from the commander, staring straight ahead instead. "You may not be able to save earth, Shepard. You might fail the universe. The reapers could destroy us all."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Let me be clear: If I'm going to die, I intend to die happy. You should at least try to do the same. A piece of that sweet little asari's ass might actually motivate you."

"Point taken."

"Good, now get the fuck out of my bar."

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