It's one of the rare nights Liara decides to forgo the stims and choose the bed over her chair in front of the wall of holo-displays. She's lying on top of the sheets, mentally filing away the to-do lists that will spill over into the next day, when her omni-tool gives a gentle buzz. A glance at the caller ID screen has her sitting up against the headboard as she clears her throat. There's a brief pause between the times she presses the "receive" button and when Feron's young, rasping voice finally comes through.

"Am I calling at a bad time?"

Liara settles in more comfortably. "No. What is it?"

"Nothing major—just your best agent checking in like you requested."

She's glad that the call is audio only so he can't see her exasperated smile. "So that last rescue operation went smoothly?"

"Smoother than asari wine."

Shaking her head, Liara asks, "Where are you now?"

"Ismar Frontier." Static. "Can't specify which system, but I'm refueling at one of the few depots that hasn't been destroyed yet."

"You shouldn't stay there for long."

A vibrating chuckle. "You gonna remind me to wash my frill before I go to sleep too? I've got this."

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Of course not." A beat. "I can't, not without my usual prescription anyway, and I'm out."

Liara sighs. "You should have let me assign you a partner."

"And have my thunder stolen? I don't think so. Besides, they drag you into more trouble than you originally sign up for."

That smile sneaks back. "Speaking from experience?"

"You could say that." Liara knows he's wearing the same expression and softly laughs under her breath.

"Did I just hear the dour, aloof Shadow Broker laugh?"

"I don't understand why everyone assumes the Shadow Broker has to be so grim."

"Well it's a pretty tedious job. Think about it: you're all alone up there in your fortress of a ship, glued to either the console or your desk at all hours, cycle after cycle. Where would you find the time to joke around?"

She blinks owlishly. "I could start an interstellar war in two minutes. Isn't that funny?"

"Maybe this job warps your sense of humor too," Feron says slowly.

A frustrated noise escapes her throat. "I was kidding."

"Relax, I caught that." There's faint scuffling on the other end. "And I know you wouldn't. You're too much of a goody two-shoes."

Liara draws her knees to her chest. "Those aren't the words typically used to describe a merciless information broker."

"That's because you aren't one." He says that like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Not for the first time that night, Liara wonders what he's doing as they're talking. He wouldn't tell her if she asked though, just like how she won't tell him about the twist in her mouth or the sudden sting in her eyes. Instead, she replies, "You sure know how to flatter someone."

"Who says I'm flattering?"