"So, that's melding, huh?"
We had been lying on the floor together in a state of quiet reflection for what had to be the better part of an hour.
"Well," her voice tired but content, "Typically, one does not reach first towards her partners' nightmares, the things they have repressed and compartmentalized so they may carry on with life."
"More of a third date thing?" I joked.
"Hah!" She laughed, "Exactly".
She rolled onto her side and tried to stand but stumbled into a waiting chair.
I forced myself onto my elbows and sat up, "Are you alright?" It was my turn to ask this time.
"Yes," She answered, and thought a moment before continuing "I suppose it's only 50 years of dedicated research being thrown to the wind."
"What do you mean?"
She laughed through the tears she was trying to hide.
"Half a century of dedicated research caused me to uncover telltale patterns that hint to an ancient cyclical extinction: the Protheans were just the latest in a long line of civilizations violently cast down after reaching their apex." She wiped her eyes and looked at me, weary.
"Of course none of it provable. I would have been laughed out of the colleges had I pursued these theories. So I chose the path of least resistance. A lot of good it did. A lot of wasted time."
"Well," I groaned, slumping into the chair across from her, "You're only 106. Plenty of time to get a few more degrees, a few more theories, a dozen more books written." I resisted the beacon as it tried to remind me that there was no time left.
"I suppose you are right." She sighed, "Only there is one problem…"
I raised my eyebrow.
"You and I are the only ones that have read the beacon. Goddess, it is astounding it has not torn your mind apart."
"Who says it hasn't" I smiled dimly.
"You forget so quickly," she said softly, "I have touched your mind. And it is not lost."
She touched her hand to mine and I looked back at her wonderfully blue eyes.
Suddenly, I was just sure she was going to kiss me. She was there, I could feel her breath, the ground solid beneath us. But then something crossed her face, a thought, a hesitation, and she shifted slightly. Not now. Not yet. It was something I'd done so often - weighing what I could afford to risk, right at that moment - that I recognized it instantly. It was like looking in a mirror.
"You don't have to be worried," My words flow without filter again. "I'm not flirting with you."
Embarrassment sweeps through me. Flirting. She thinks I think she's flirting. "I'm not—I don't think you were—I would never think that you—" The words collide in my mouth, and now I know there's no amount of darkness that can cover the rush of red to my face.
She cocks her head to the side. "Are you flirting with me?"
"What? No," I splutter. My mind is spinning blindly in a panic, and I realize I don't even know what flirting is. Is it possible to flirt without knowing you're flirting? Is she flirting? My left eye starts to twitch.
Before I could derail the situation further, a young Alliance officer stepped into the office. While we hadn't exactly been up to anything remotely intimate, we burst apart from our chairs like the other was a live hand grenade. The young Lieutenant stood there, stunned that an Asari and a Spectre had occupied his office behaving as if they'd been engaged in a white-hot sexual encounter. Our mutual shock caused him to abruptly stammer an apology and slam the door, his footsteps indicating he was jogging away from his own office.
Liara and I stood there, horror-struck for a moment, before I burst into laughter.
I collapsed back into my chair from the inability to stop the fits. Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, the images of our faces looking at one another in complete surprise; maybe it was because this officer was surely going to be spreading rumours of what he thought he saw; and maybe it was because I finally didn't care.
As I carried on, my hysterics eventually caused Liara to start to titter.
"Why do humans cry when they laugh?" She sniggered.
I sniffled, "It's – It's uh" I started between deep breaths, trying to control myself and remember high-school science. "Both have to do with high emotional arousal."
The word "arousal" set me into another fit and Liara's laughter shifted from amused to nervous.
I finally calmed down as she began gathering her things to leave and hastily reached for her hand before she reached the door.
"Wait. I'm sorry." I said honestly. "It's just – ever since – "
The air in the room shifted as an uncomfortable silence stood between us.
"Since we kissed?" she said quiely.
"I can't stop thinking about you," I blurted, "And I don't think things are going to get better now that we've – "
"Melded." She finished.
I stood to face her fully, "I don't think that's going to help things."
"It certainly will not." She chuckled the words. "It is a sort of side-effect. I have a piece of you in my mind. You have a piece of me. Though it was not intimate, I –"
"It felt intimate to me." I held. "The things you saw. The things about my past, you are the only one who knows them. You're the only one who hasn't just seen them, or heard of them, but you've seen it through me."
I was trembling now, out on a ledge, bearing my soul in the same way I had when she asked me to open my mind and I was begging her to stand there with me.
"Shepard…"
My name in her low voice gave me hope and filled me with fear at the same time.
"I do not know if this is infatuation or lust or – " She wouldn't say the other, "Or something more." She finished tactically.
"I don't know either." I exhaled, "But I want to find out."
Her eyes met mine and I relaxed a little.
"Okay." She said simply.
"Okay." I agreed.
She reached for the door handle and I took a step back. As she pressed the handle down, her brow wrinkled and her eyes were on me again.
"So what now?"
The question caught me off guard. I hadn't thought this far.
"Maybe we could go back in time a little? There's this fancy restaurant nearby with a nice view of the water. The Sailor and Barrister, they call it. I've always thought the place looked nice. Since I don't eat regular food or go on dates, I've never been there. I'd like to make an exception and take you there now. That is, if you'd like."
"Ah," She said slyly, "Start at date one instead of year ten of bonding."
"I think it might be a good starting point."
"What about the Alliance? The regulations?"
"Fuck it."
My bluntness caused her to guffaw.
"I'm a Spectre," I reminded her. "I am authorized to accomplish my mission by any means necessary. And right now, that means taking you on a date."
"How ruthless of you."
I smiled and puffed my chest a little, feigning strength and rebelliousness. I asked her to meet me downstairs while I checked in with Anderson. While I no longer cared about breaking regulation, it would make me feel better to tell him about it. I almost wanted him to charge me.
I don't care. Is what he said to me. And she really doesn't work for you, she works for me and Hackett. Just don't let it interfere with the mission. Ordering a loved one into combat is not easy, it's not natural.
I told him it was just a date and love wasn't on the table. He raised one eyebrow at me and nodded his head in the positive. Sure, he was saying wordlessly.
With Normandy still requiring repairs, I drafted a quick set of orders to get supplies and navigation set for Ilos then set out to the security reception area of Alliance HQ – Citadel Outpost where my date was patiently waiting.
We quickly realized that despite not requiring a reservation (I'm not sure if it was her status or mine that got us a table), we were both very under dressed for the restaurant. She was wearing her typical research wear; comfortable legging style pants, a loose fitted top and unfastened belt-wrapped coat. She wore a trinket around her neck, secured with thin leather string. I was in Alliance dress of the day, which consisted of combat pants, boots and top with informal shoulder boards. Not exactly fancy dinner dress.
"People are going to see us, you know." She started as our drinks began to arrive. "They will talk."
"They've already been talking." I said. "Is it fair to say we're just two adults who find the other interesting?"
"That is all I would say."
"No hidden agenda?"
"None"
"Have breakfast with me?"
"Of course."
When I smiled reticently she caught on to my teasing and kicked me lightly under the table.
"It is too easy to tease me. You should not feel as proud as you look." She scolded.
"I'm sorry, I guess I'm still trying to figure out what Asari think as intimacy. If what we did up there wasn't intimate –"
"I was referring to what you most equate intimacy with, that being intercourse or sexual contact. We were not seeking mutual pleasure, nor trying to learn more from one another. We had a singular goal in mind: the beacon."
"So Asari don't see sex as being intimate?"
"Not peak intimacy, no. Sexual activity is for sexual pleasure. The meld is…more."
I brought my napkin to my forehead, sure that the heat in my face was causing me to sweat.
"Are you uncomfortable?" She asked.
"I uh – well – I mean sex talk isn't – it's not usual first date stuff either."
She laughed and sipped her drink.
"I still find it strange humans engage so frequently in intercourse but talk so infrequently about it."
"Glass houses, T'Soni." I cautioned.
"What is that?"
"It's a proverb used on Earth. It's used to say that people who have faults should not criticize other people for having the same faults."
"You think I have this fault? I'm talking to you openly now." She complained.
"Well sex is part of our mating process. Like your melding, of which you speak so little."
She placed her drink back down on the table with some force. "I have been open about the melding process with you."
"Not as it relates to mating."
"What do you want to know?"
"How is it done?"
She cleared her throat. "It is a form of parthenogenesis. Asari reproduction is very different from other forms of sexual reproduction. An Asari provides two copies of her own genes to her offspring, one of which is passed on unaltered. The second set of genes is altered through process of melding, or joining. During melding, the Asari initiating the meld consciously attunes her nervous system to her partner's, sending and receiving electrical impulses directly through the skin, however physical contact is not strictly necessary."
I felt like an idiot when I realized I was hoping for a more flirtatious answer. This was Liara, ever the scientist, always serious, always wanting to educate.
"Essentially, we become succubus's who steal genetic material for the gain of our own species."
But sometimes she did manage to crack a joke.
"I knew it," I quipped. "All those extranet articles had to be right."
"Well, there are the Ardat-Yakshi, the 'demons of the night wind'" she finished, sensing my translator would not pick up the new words. "But that is fourth date conversation." Another flash of her smile as she sipped her drink.
She looked at me a while before asking, "Are you still not flirting with me?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't flirted with anyone in a really long time. So this might be it. Is it working?"
"I have never been flirted with so I am not sure how effective your technique may be." She jested.
Our meals arrived and allowed for a natural break in our conversation. I ordered my usual red meat dish with traditional potato and vegetable sides; I had fun explaining what a cow was, how its meat was now raised in a lab right here on the Citadel and lamented paying triple the price despite the shipping proximity. She surprised me and ordered a human pasta dish, curious about trying it at a restaurant after eating its soggy imitation aboard the Normandy. Finding lasagna 'too spicy', I ordered her a new plate of Thessian fish (also lab grown) and she appreciated the gesture, too shy to ask for herself.
Our conversation ranged from her research to simple stories of her travels. The drinks or company or the combination of both had relaxed her a little and I was glad to know a little more about her. The scales seemed tipped in that regard; she had seen my most traumatic moments, she'd tasted and smelled them like I had; but she never let on. I hoped those memories would not linger in her mind as they did in mine, and I was glad to have some of her happier ones in return.
Under-dressed, exhausted but content, we talked for hours and hardly noticed the restaurant had started to clear out. The staff did their best not to intrude, but as the evening went on, they began to make their closing preparations more and more noticeable.
"I think they want us to leave." She said looking out the corners of her eyes. "My drink has been empty for a while now."
"I know a place." I said quietly, the tone a little smokier than I intended.
"Hmm" She contemplated, her tone exactly as smoky as she intended. "Would you mind walking me home, Commander? My place is not far from here, I believe you know it."
I stood, a little wobbly from the alcohol, and extended my hand to her. Her fingers interlaced with mine and I suddenly realized this was the first time I held her hand like someone should hold their romantic partners hand.
As I walked her back to Normandy, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Tomorrow, we would leave for Ilos, we would stop Saren, we would go on a second date when it was over.
We had just made the turn to the docking bay when my Omni-tool chimed. The encrypted message made me stop suddenly in my tracks.
"What is wrong?"
I couldn't manage to use my voice so I just tilted the text screen towards her.
** FLASH FLASH FLASH **
ALL SSV NORMANDY PERSONNEL:
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY ALL SSV NORMANDY PERSONNEL TO REPORT TO ALLIANCE HEADQUARTERS – CITADEL OUTPOST. VESSEL TO BE ESTABLISHED IN DRY DOCK INDEFINITELY.
ALL PERSONAL EFFECTS TO BE STORED IAW ALLIANCE HQ BARRACK SOP. RATIONS AND QUARTERS TO BE PROVIDED. PERSONNEL TO PRESENT ID TO BARRACK WARDEN NLT 04 0010 HRS ZULU CITADEL STANDARD TIME.
INQUIRES DIRECTED TO + .DOCK.
We looked at one another, hoping she would make sense of the text I had received.
"We're grounded. Oh god, we're grounded."
