A/N:

This story was originally posted here many years ago. However, with my interest in Mass Effect recently renewed (I'm sure you can't possibly imagine why :P ), I decided to go over it and make a whole bunch of edits, improvements, and adjustments, and then re-upload it. I also intend to finally finish it, in as much as a story like this needs a definitive ending. Stay posted for more chapters.

A few things to note:

1) This story evolved from a slightly dirty/naughty idea. As such, the first chapter contains some stuff that could be considered mild kink content, although I wouldn't say it's that out there. Still, if that's not your thing, you can skip to Chapter 2, which from then on is nothing but sweet romance and smut.

2) This story lays the melodrama on thick, and leans especially heavily into Liara's awkwardness and insecurities in ME1. It's intended more to be an enjoyable ride, rather than a 100% accurate representation of what the relationship between these characters would really be like. I would not say it's OOC or AU, but I take a few liberties.

With that said, I hope you enjoy :) I love reading all reviews and comments, so please feel free to leave some if you want.

Undergarments

Chapter 1

The SSV Normandy slipped through the inky blackness of space, a barely discernible silhouette against the star-studded background. Running silent, the only evidence of the ship's passing to the casual observer would be the faint iridescence of its four ion engines, their soft glow no brighter than moonlight. Perhaps a small gleam would be visible to another vessel, as a rouge sun ray caught the metallic hull and reflected back, but for all intents and purposes, the ship was invisible.

On board, the only sound was the quiet, comforting hum of the reactor; a sound that all the crew was used to and had learned to filter out. The Normandy was currently in night-running mode: the shift where most of the craft's inhabitants lay asleep in their bunks or ensconced in pressurized sleeper capsules. All the lights were dimmed, and non-essential systems powered down, although ready to surge back to life in case of an emergency. Only a handful of people remained awake, working noiselessly in the artificial twilight.

Joker maintained his usual post at the helm, dozing lightly with ears pricked for any warning beeps. His condition made leaving the safety of his chair difficult, so for the most part, he slept where he worked. For anyone else it may have been a huge inconvenience, but for the gifted pilot of the Normandy, there was no place he'd rather be. The rest of the crew respected his privacy and had learned early on that should something unexpected happen, Joker would be awake and alert within seconds. For that reason, the five or so other personnel required to keep the ship operational kept themselves to the rows of monitors aligned either side of the central walkway.

Aside from the skeleton crew, only one other person remained awake. Secluded in the medical storage room that had been hastily converted into a living area when she came aboard, Dr. Liara T'Soni stared blankly at a computer display. Flickering, polarised light danced across her pale blue skin, giving the young asari a washed out, ethereal glow. It also illuminated a jumble of unsorted data pads, scientific apparatus, and several empty styrofoam cups containing the cold dregs of hours-old coffee.

Liara sighed, and for the third time in as many minutes, forced herself to focus on the readout before her. A medley of glyphs, etchings, and random squiggles flickered across the display as the terminal struggled to read an ancient Prothean data disk and translate it into some kind of understandable language. To anyone else it would have seemed like a futile endeavour—the grainy lines barely resembled even known Prothean lettering—but to Liara, the reassuringly routine task served to keep her mind off other things. Or at least, that was the idea.

Ever since joining the crew of the Normandy on their hunt for Saren, Liara had been finding it more and more difficult to focus on her work. It was a first for her; normally anything and everything Prothean would immediately captivate her interest. Reviewing data she'd collected was second only to the actual archaeological digs themselves in terms of excitement…so why was she not satisfied? Even the 'coffee' that humans seemed to swear by for its alertness-fortifying properties hadn't helped, although Liara had grown quite fond of the taste.

The problem, of course, was that it wasn't lack of sleep that was causing her mind to drift. She'd quickly established a nocturnal routine onboard the Normandy, volunteering for the duty shifts that would coincide with the least number of other people being up. It did mean occasionally taking on the slightly less-desirable tasks—such as the laundry duty she had to take care of in about thirty minutes—but it was a small price to pay for the quietness and solitude it bought her.

Truth be told, she was still nervous about being on board the human vessel, and tried to avoid its crew as much as possible. Not that she didn't like them, in fact it was the exact opposite; it was a fear that they wouldn't like her. Liara had never seen herself as a very interesting or sociable person, and she didn't want to confirm that fact by having to try and socialise with others. Past experiences had taught her that every time she tried to make new friends, it was a toss-up between either saying something careless and embarrassing herself or boring them into a comatose stupor. Consequentially, she kept to herself, venturing from her makeshift cabin only at mealtimes and for meetings or missions with the rest of the team. It was lonely, but that was okay. Liara had gotten used to her own company in all her time spent on remote digs.

Of course, there was one thing that tempted her out into the mess hall during the 'day'. It was the chance to observe a certain special individual. A person who made her heart flutter and tie itself in knots around her stomach whenever she saw them. A person who'd come majestically crashing into her life just as she'd given up all hope of ever escaping imprisonment, and who'd gone on to save her time and again since then. They were the only one who sought her out simply for her company, and who continued to return despite how dreadfully dull and awkward she must seem.

Commander Lana Shepard. Her beloved.

Liara adored her. She idolized her. She worshipped her in a way she'd never thought capable of doing to another person. No one else she'd met in her century of living had even come close. This woman, this Spectre, who'd fearlessly fought her way deep into the bowels of an active volcano just to rescue Liara from certain death. Her face was Liara's last thought before she went to sleep, her first thought when she woke up, and filled every lovelorn dream in between. Just seeing her was enough to set the asari's heart aflutter.

This is how it had been ever since she'd first seen Shepard; swimming into focus behind that barrier curtain like a divine visitation. At the time, she'd processed it as simple relief at seeing another friendly face, and the subsequent fact that she might actually survive to matronhood. After all, they'd been in the middle of a do-or-die situation, and all her attention had been focused on just getting out of the crumbling ruins in one piece. It had started then, however, manifesting itself as admiration for Shepard's bravery. The Spectre lived up to her title on the battlefield, moving with a grace and poise reminiscent of the elegant asari commandos that Liara had tried to mimic when she was young. Perhaps it stemmed from the Commander's extraordinary biotic abilities, although Liara couldn't say that her own had ever made her feel particularly graceful.

It wasn't until after the mission that the asari had realized that respect and gratitude were not all she felt. A staff meeting had been called, and Liara had been surprised to find many of the galaxy's species represented amongst the Normandy's crew. While she was the only asari on board, it had made her feel a bit more welcome to know that other 'outsiders' had also been accepted. Despite that fact, it had become clear that several of them did not welcome her presence. They'd claimed that she was the daughter of a traitor, and that she may even be in league with Saren and his merciless geth. It had been so confusing for her…finding out that Benezia had joined with the rouge Spectre had been a bitter blow, and to be accused of the same thing in the very next breath had hurt her deeply.

During that brief period of turmoil, Shepard had been the one constant Liara could hold on to. The Spectre had been so kind to her; coming to check on her progress often and always greeting her with a smile. It had made the transition that much easier, to know that someone—the ship's leader, no less—was on her side and trusted her without forcing her to earn it. No one since her mother had ever given her such unconditional support, and before long, she'd found that just thinking of Shepard's face made her feel warm all over. As the Spectre's visits continued, despite Liara successfully embarrassing herself almost every time, she'd realised that what she felt was beyond simple admiration. These alien emotions had sent Liara scurrying to the extranet for much-needed research, but what she found had only confirmed her initial terrifying suspicions.

Liara loved Lana Shepard.

It was a frighteningly new idea for her…loving someone else. Before, her work and isolation had left little room for others in her heart. To her, love had always been something that that happened to other people, but she'd never have the pleasure of knowing herself. After all, who would be silly enough to love her? Most people didn't even spare her a second glance unless they shared her very specific field of interest. And the few who had were rapidly disappearing. She didn't even have her mother anymore…

The memory of Benezia's death was painfully fresh in her mind, and with it came a seething cauldron of emotions that Liara still couldn't fully decipher. Not a day went by when she didn't miss the Matriarch dearly. Yet, it was impossible for her to regret what they'd had to do to the woman she'd become. Their entire last exchange was burnt into her mind, crystal clear, even several weeks after the event. She could recall every detail, but surprisingly—or perhaps, not so surprisingly—it was the image of Lana that affected her the most. The sadness that had overcome the Commander's features when she'd realized Benezia was beyond saving was haunting to remember. It was also the one time Liara had seen the Spectre waver in her duty…and it had been on her account. Lana had stared at her, eyes filled with uncertainty and raised pistol trembling.

"Look away Liara," she'd said softly, barely more than a pleading whisper. "Please, I know how cruel it is for me to ask, but please…just look away. I…I can't shoot a mother in front of her child. I can't."

Liara had granted Lana's request. She still didn't know if it had been the right decision, but the finality of that gunshot and the lifeless thud which followed had been more than enough for her to picture the scene regardless.

Lana had come to her afterwards. Liara had been sitting where she was now, fighting a losing battle against the tears that streamed down her face. She hadn't wanted Shepard to see her so weak…to see her as nothing more than a weeping child. Over and over again she'd told herself that it had been the kindest thing they could have done for her…that the woman who'd died hadn't been her mother, but a twisted puppet of Saren and the Reapers. She'd also told herself that Lana would want her to be strong. But the naked truth of the matter had been simple: Liara had lost the only person who had ever really cared for her.

Lana had walked in on her like this; face buried in her hands and shoulders shaking with grief as she sobbed. She'd tried to appear in control, but just the sight of the worry written so plainly across the Spectre's face had been enough to set her tears flowing again. Numbly, she'd allowed Lana to lead her to the edge of the bunk, happy to go along with whatever the Spectre wanted if it had meant she'd remain a short while longer. The other woman had been so gentle, letting…

The asari was startled out of her thoughts by the abrupt beep of her console, reminding her she had duties to attend to. Sighing at the realisation that she'd lost a whole half hour to daydreaming, Liara powered down her terminal and headed for the door. The soft clang of her footfalls on the deck and the 'whoosh' as the door opened seemed oddly amplified in the deathly quiet. At this hour, the Normandy could have passed for an abandoned ghost ship.

Liara crossed the small mess hall and made her way between the rows of sleeper pods. They always unnerved her, looking more like coffins than beds; an image reinforced by the figures lying stock-still within them. It made her glad that she had the option to sleep on a proper bunk, even if it was tucked away in a storeroom. Perhaps that was intended as a subtle hint; a sign that she was nothing more than dead weight.

Don't think that, she chided herself mentally. Remember what Shepard said.

Nearly walking into the door, Liara paused for it to open, then sheepishly entered the small facilities room nextt to the crew area. It was incidents like that which reminded her why she preferred the company of relics to the company of people. Prothean artifacts didn't tend to snicker behind her back.

Past the unisex toilet stalls and showers, Liara squeezed her way into the compact laundry room. It smelt much as you'd expect a room full of dirty soldiers' clothing to smell, despite the best efforts of the air filtration system, and it made Liara thankful for the gloves attached to her lab coat. Still, the sooner she got going, the sooner it would be over. Spurred on by that motivating thought, she set to work.

With a small groan of protest, Liara finished cramming the last remnants of Wrex's armour into the washing unit. The bulky chest piece had been a nightmare to try to fit through the hole, designed as it was for human sized clothing. Cleaning it was a necessity, however, as much as the krogan may appreciate the blood splatters he accumulated every time he left the ship.

Her task almost done, Liara set her sights on the last bag of laundry, grateful that it wasn't bulging with any more cumbersome battle gear. Picking it up, she couldn't help but notice the stencilled lettering that spelled out an all-too-familiar name.

"Shepard…" she said, swallowing to moisten the sudden dryness in her throat.

Liara hesitated in opening the sack, suddenly nervous of what she might find inside. The rational part of her mind was all too quick to point out how foolish she was being, but the idea of going through Lana's clothes suddenly seemed very…personal. Almost as if she'd be seeing something that should remain private. Liara found the prospect daunting, if not a bit exhilarating at the same time. Taking a deep breath, she upended the bag and tipped its contents onto the counter.

Confronted with the same navy slacks she'd seen multiple times already, her apprehension suddenly seemed laughable. It made her blush slightly, to think of how silly she was being about a bunch of clothing.

"Pull yourself together," she muttered reproachfully. "What on earth would Shepard think of all the fuss you're making over her…"

Liara's voice died in her throat as she removed a shirt from the pile. Underneath, half hidden inside a trouser leg, was a pair of Shepard's undergarments.

The top she'd been holding fell in a heap on the floor, slipping barely noticed from Liara's fingers. She paid it no heed, focusing solely on the plain white underwear, and the disconcerting urges that began crowding her mind the second she saw it. Liara found herself unprepared for the sudden yearning that blossomed in her heart, filling it with a painful emptiness.

With the longing came an irresistible urge to touch Lana's panties…to slide her own skin against the same fabric that was daily pressed against her beloved's most intimate area. Just the thought of such an unorthodox act made her shiver violently, her body flooding with equal parts anticipation and anxiety. Anticipation? Of what? Surely, she couldn't be thinking of doing anything…

But to her dismay, Liara didn't try to reign in her actions as her hand tentatively crept closer to the silken undergarment. If she had stopped to really think about what she was doing, she was certain she would have backed down at once. That she was even entertaining the idea was so disgustingly perverted. Yet, swept up in the heat of the moment, her usual cautionary thoughts succumbed to an overwhelming curiosity. She'd spent her entire life learning about people through the items they left behind. This was no different…right?

Her fingers curled through the panties' waistband, shaking with jittery excitement. Liara's breath caught as she removed her prize, handling it with the same care and skill she normally bestowed upon a Prothean relic. The white cloth hung limply in her delicate grip, practically begging the young asari to touch it. It was simple and functional in design; exactly what was to be expected from a soldier.

Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Liara poked her head around the partition and listened as intently as she could. Only when she was absolutely certain that no one else was likely to come barging in and that she was indeed the only person awake on the entire deck did she risk turning back to what she held in her hands. The underwear did not differ from anything another asari or human female might wear…but the fact it was Lana's made it the rarest of treasures.

All sorts of improper thoughts bounced around Liara's head; some impure enough to leave her quite flustered. How would the fabric feel against her bare skin? Was Lana's scent still contained within the material? What about her taste?

"Goddess, this is too much," Liara murmured, tugging at the collar of her lab coat with her free hand. She was flushed from head to toe with embarrassment and, though she hesitated in admitting it, an incredible excitement. The room felt several degrees hotter than it had previously…something the asari knew was impossible since the Normandy's systems regulated the temperature continuously.

By now her hands were visibly trembling as she reached for the zipper that attached her gloves to the rest of her outfit. As she did, Liara closed her eyes, and suddenly the fingers fumbling with the clasp at her wrist belonged to the gorgeous green-eyed angel she adored so completely. Watching Lana smile was like witnessing the sunrise between the twin peaks of Sathia, its golden rays reflecting off the morning dew and filling the asari's soul with a beautiful inner peace.

Liara's hand twitched ever so slightly as she imagined loving fingers stroking the pale blue flesh of her palm. How would Lana's touch feel? As soft and gentle as her heart? Or rougher and more firm from years spent as a fighter? Liara's closest points of reference were the occasional times the Spectre had rested a hand on her back or shoulder during their brief conversations, and even then, she'd had to fight to stop her legs from failing her. Imagining how a tender caress from those same fingers might feel was impossible…and ridiculous. That Lana had any feelings for her was a possibility that existed solely in Liara's dreams. She knew that.

As she pined for what would never be, Liara's uncovered hand brushed against the panties' elasticated waistband. The unexpected first contact with the underwear drew a gasp from her lips.

There was an irony, she thought, that this simple set of panties occupied a position in Shepard's life that she longed to fill. On a daily basis, they got the privilege of wrapping themselves snugly around Lana's body; of feeling the wonderful heat that radiated from her exquisite, creamy skin. Had the Spectre worn this pair into battle? If so, they had surely absorbed some of the same sweat that Liara frequently saw glistening on Shepard's brow after an intense fight.

Now blushing furiously, the asari could not shake the appealing mental image. The thought of the clothing she now held in her hands nestled snugly between Lana's curvaceous thighs—pressed against the Spectre's womanly centre and moist with her essence—was overwhelmingly arousing. Liara could actually feel her insides aching with desire, a sensation she'd never experienced before. The shy asari had never dreamed that anyone could make her so wanton.

A need for something she couldn't name or explain overtook Liara's actions. Her hesitant touching of the panties escalated as she swept her finger across the crotch piece, ecstatic to find a residual dampness in the lacy material.

"Oh Goddess…" Liara whispered, cheeks flushing to their darkest shade yet as she heard herself moaning with desire "They're still wet."

Asari were formally not educated about the physical aspects of sex. Although Liara had been taught extensively about the rituals, both religious and practical, involved with Union, the idea of lovemaking as a part of it had never been expanded upon. Her mother had explained that Union was the asari equivalent of intercourse for other species, and that physical acts of affection were often practiced alongside the spiritual joining of minds for the gratification of both parties, but had gone no further than that. The common asari mentality was that, since a maiden could end up paired with a partner of any species or gender, sex would entirely depend on that partner's biology. As such, it should be taken on a case-by-case basis. Liara had been a mere 42 years old when she'd first learned all this, and mostly far too engrossed with her studies to really consider her mother's words.

Now her ignorance was all too apparent. She knew limited amounts about asari sexuality—thanks to her own body and also unavoidable contact with dubious extranet sites—but she'd never stopped to consider how humans may differ. From the brief research she'd done when she was first brought on board, Liara knew they were biologically similar to asari in many ways…at least, the females were. The idea of two genders was still somewhat confusing to her, having spent most of her life in asari space exclusively amongst others of her kind. It had taken her a day or so, and a few humiliating mistakes, to learn to accurately distinguish between the two sexes. In the end, she'd settled on facial hair as being the most reliable indicator. That, and…well, breasts.

Her chain of thought was broken as her eyes were once again drawn to the panties she was absent mindedly stroking. Liara may have known next to nothing about sex, but she knew that the dampness of the material she held was more than just sweat. What it was exactly didn't matter; it had come from Lana, and that made it precious.

Trembling with a seething mass of new, intimidating urges, Liara brought the underwear up to her face. The feeling of moist fabric on her fingers was wonderful, and under such close examination, she could actually see the garment glisten provocatively. She stared at it, entranced. She'd come this far…

Liara finally gave into her basest desires. Holding the panties up to her nose, she took a long, hard sniff. Immediately, Lana's earthy aroma filled her nostrils, its scent as sweet and beautiful as the woman who produced it. Closing her eyes, Liara savoured the smell, inhaling as deeply as she could and letting it fill her nasal passages completely. It was like sniffing a bouquet, or the nose of a fine wine, only ten times more satisfying. Here—with the smell of Lana fresh in her nostrils—she could pretend for just one second that she wasn't some awkward wallflower who'd never been loved. In her mind, she was with her beloved Commander; a woman she cherished more than anything else in the galaxy.

She murmured her loved one's name repeatedly, pausing periodically for a fresh sniff of Lana's heady scent. Somewhere along the way Liara had sunk to the floor, her legs unable to continue supporting her weight. The longer she smelt the Spectre's panties, the more intoxicated she became. Scrunching the fabric into a ball with the crotch piece outermost, Liara pressed her nose fully into the underwear. The smell of Lana's sex completely enveloped her senses, and with it came the cool touch of moisture from the damp cloth rubbed against the asari's face.

Liara moaned with longing as she felt the wetness touch her. Using both hands, she unfolded the precious bundle, bringing as much flesh as possible into contact with the fabric steeped in Lana's sticky nectar. Her skin chilled as the panties deposited their prize, leaving a glistening trail across her jaw and purple-flushed cheeks.

"Let me taste you," Liara whispered, already feeling anticipation flutter through the pit of her stomach. It was like a great serpent was uncoiling inside the asari, the tip of its tail tickling her abdomen.

Fumbling in her haste, Liara adjusted her grip, pulling the Spectre's underwear taut in preparation. When held like this, it was possible to see how the fabric darkened around the crotch piece, laden with the same perfumed juices which were now smeared copiously on her face. It was enough to leave Liara feeling distinctly lightheaded. Here she was…surrounded by her sweetheart's aroma and holding the source mere centimetres from her mouth. It was almost impossible to believe.

To her shame, deep down, she'd known the moment she'd uncovered her prize where this would eventually lead. Now that she was finally here, however, Liara hesitated. The urges that presently ruled her brain were so strong, stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, and it scared her. She craved this fake intimacy with a fervour that couldn't be healthy. As if licking the panties of the woman she loved was somehow a substitute for the real thing. But Liara knew she wasn't worthy of Shepard's attention. So, she accepted her lot without protest, as she always had done. It was better this way…better than bothering Lana with her laughable feelings.

"Oh Shepard…" Tears leaked from the young asari's eyes, trailing down her cheeks to mingle with the Spectre's essence, "Why did you have to be so perfect?"

Sobbing with equal parts pleasure and anguish, Liara parted her pale blue lips. Through the opening poked the tip of a purple tongue, hesitantly slipping from its hiding place. As it did, Liara felt her final inhibitions dissolve away. Perhaps she would look back on her shameful actions later and cry herself to sleep, but right now, the only thing she wanted to do was suck Lana's panties dry and taste the juices her beloved had inadvertently gifted to her.

Her tongue contacted with the sodden material.

Liara didn't dare breathe as she took her first tentative lick. She was actually doing it! Lana's nectar seeped from the fabric onto her waiting tongue, bathing her tastebuds in sweet, sticky liquid.

With a moan of ecstasy, Liara was hooked. She licked the crotch again, pressing harder than before and squeezing more delicious juice into her eager mouth. The panties responded to her demands, secreting the wetness as fast as Liara's desperate tongue strokes could manage. Lana's most intimate fluid covered the asari's lips, running down her chin even as fresh tears of tortured pleasure escaped from tightly closed eyes. Not wanting to waste a single drop, Liara forced herself away from the wellspring long enough to capture the escaping liquid with her tongue before diving back in.

Opening her mouth to its fullest extent, Liara slipped the underwear completely inside. It was difficult to breathe around the damp fabric, but she was already so lightheaded already that she barely noticed. Now half-licking, half-sucking for all she was worth, Liara could feel the beginnings of something exquisite building within her. She'd experienced so many new sensations in the past minutes, but this one eclipsed them all in intensity. Spurred on by the rising crescendo, Liara took a deep breath through her nose, bringing a fresh sample of Lana's scent to compliment her taste.

Liara felt her body move unconsciously, legs tensing and forcing her hips into the air. She didn't know what she was doing, but the movements seemed to be in response to the steady pressure building deep within her pelvis. As the feeling grew, Liara writhed uncontrollably as random muscles spasmed with exquisite pleasure. Lying prone on her back, it was all the asari could do to keep the panties pressed into her mouth. Her free hand now rested beside her, its fingers clawing weakly at the floor as it searched for a non-existent handhold.

Liara knew of no words to describe what she was experiencing. All she could do was give herself over to the turbulence that buffeted her insides like the tide crashing against a rocky shoreline. She arched her back again, as if seeking to expel the roiling energies that were coalescing at the junction of her thighs. Incoherent sounds of pleasure tumbled from her lips, drowned out by the resonant thump of her frantic heartbeat. Liara couldn't tell how loudly she was moaning, and could only pray to the Goddess that everyone else was still asleep.

Concentrating on the taste in her mouth and the texture of cotton against her tongue, Liara finally reached her peak. The climax tore a sob of unadulterated joy from the depth of her lungs as wave after wave of incredible pleasure pulsed through her body. The panties slipped free as Liara fought to remain conscious in the face of such a ferocious assault on her nervous system. By the time her orgasm had subsided, she lay whimpering on the deck, feeling as drained as if she'd used her biotics non-stop for days on end.

Twitching slightly, the last of the aftershocks jittering through her spent frame, Liara managed to scrape together the pieces of her muddled consciousness. Her head still swam with a post-orgasmic haze, but she could think clearly enough to realize what an incriminating position she was in. Lana's panties lay by her right hand, but upon closer inspection, she found herself too weak to rise and deposit them on the counter. Instead, she tucked them deep into her pocket and allowed herself a moment to revel in what she'd just experienced.

Her first orgasm…or so she assumed.

Goddess, how had she gone all these years without one? The pleasure was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. That intense peak, that moment of purest ecstasy…'phenomenal' was the only word she could think of that came close.

Her only regret was that she'd had no one to share the experience with. There had been no loving hands exploring her body…no tender voice reassuring her of what was to come…no delicate lips to kiss away the tears of her aftermath. Nothing. Just the cold, hard deck and a pair of Shepard's panties. It was enough to make Liara sick with loneliness. She'd given Lana her heart, and the other woman didn't even know it. Now here she was, embarrassing herself, stooping to a low that would make anyone ashamed to look her in the eyes if they knew.

"Why, Goddess?" Her voice trembled before finally breaking. Thick droplets of sorrow cascaded down her cheeks, accompanied by a sharp tightening of her chest that forced out a sob of pain. Liara knew she was breaking down but was powerless to stop the despair that engulfed her.

"Why must I be such a coward?"

The smell and taste of Lana's essence had given her a glorious physical release, the likes of which she'd never known. But now that it was over, all she felt was ashamed and heartbreakingly alone. The Spectre deserved someone far better than her; someone stronger, braver…more beautiful. Liara could never expect to be her beloved's equal and yet she could not crush the desperate hope for something more. No matter how many times she stamped out that little flame in her heart, it sprung up again, mocking her.

Her tears continued to flow in an endless stream, with no sign of stopping. Liara felt as if she was destined to cry forever; the sadness in her was just too much to bear.

Wearily struggling to her feet, the tearful asari withdrew the panties from her pocket. Staring at them through watery eyes, Liara touched them to her lips one last time.

"I love you, Shepard," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Depositing the underwear in the cleaning unit, reluctant to let go but too disgusted with her actions to hold them any longer, she moved on to Lana's next item of clothing; a tank top.

Going through every garment in turn, bestowing a heartfelt kiss on each of them, Liara eventually finished her laundry duty. Despite her pessimistic predictions, she had eventually stopped weeping, although the clinging ache in her chest remained. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, matched by twin streaks of dried tears across each cheek. Liara hoped she could make it back to her cabin without being spotted; a situation which could lead to some very awkward questions. She'd never been any good at lying, and it wouldn't take a C-Sec detective to tell that she was upset.

Liara keyed in the last few commands on the control panel before exiting the tiny utility room. Her mind was preoccupied with a whirling mess of thoughts. The sorrow that had claimed her earlier still bubbled just beneath the surface, and it took an active effort to prevent it from bursting free again. Right now, all she wanted was to collapse on her bunk and sleep for days on end. At least in her dreams she could be with her beloved Lana, free from the insecurities of her waking life.

As she entered the corridor lined with sleeper pods, a sudden pneumatic up ahead made her freeze. Liara looked up just in time to spot the lithe form of Lana Shepard stepping out of one of the capsules. Her motions were somewhat less refined than usual, clouded by the grogginess of a period in suspended animation. Twiddling her fingers experimentally, the Spectre caught sight of her asari crewmember and offered her a warm smile of genuine pleasure.

"Hey Liara. What are you doing up so late?"