At What Cost

They had spent the journey over in silence. There were so many things to be said. So much to unravel. The worst place to do that was in a skycar with a precocious child and an audience.

Charr had bid them a good night at the door of Liara's block, and the silence lasted until the door of Liara's home was firmly locked behind them, shutting out the rest of the world.

"This is amazing Liara," Shepard said in awe, looking around the luxurious apartment. It was clear that Liara was more than capable of raising a handsome income to support them without her pittance of an Alliance salary. "Hard to imagine you here instead of–"

"–a dark room in the back of the med-bay?" Liara finished. Liara saw flashes of the Normandy in her mind, but mostly remembered the feeling whenever the door hissed open behind and there stood Shepard. She recalled the heady excitement of discovering their affections for each other. The clumsy exchanges of words when the heat was palpable between them.

Every night since that beautiful ship was destroyed Liara had cursed her hesitance and caution of allowing herself to physically be with Shepard. If she hadn't been so anxious and reserved they would have had so much more time together.

Shepard was here now. She was back. She was alive. And standing in her apartment. Perhaps that regret wouldn't hang so heavily on Liara any more.

Liara watched as Shepard carried Amilia over to the lounge area, bordered by several sofas and recliners. Without thinking, Liara flicked on the baby barrier engine on her way to the kitchen.

Translucent barriers running in a circle around the lounge formed with a reassuring initial hum. Liara checked if there was something suitable for eating in her fridge. She and Amilia had dinner at the office, but Shepard must be hungry surely.

As Liara was contemplating what she might conjure from a bottle of wine, Illium square-fruit, a chunk of Armali cheese and a box of Kepesh-Yakshi cereal (Amilia was too young to eat it, but not too young to be enamoured with the adverts and insisted on it when they went shopping), a steady banging noise captured her attention – and she wandered back through to see what all the fuss was about.

Liara witnessed Shepard awkwardly shifting on the couch with Amilia rapping enthusiastically against the solid armour that the Commander wore. The baby had discovered a new source of noise-making, and this was rarely a good thing.

After barely a minute more of tiny fists banging on the metal and Shepard failing to preoccupy Amilia with anything else, Liara broke her silence.

"Shepard," Liara chuckled. "You should change."

"I'm fine, it's like a second skin."

"You're not wearing it to bed, are you?" Liara challenged.

Unexpectedly, Shepard blushed and looked away. Unexpected as Liara couldn't recall a time when Shepard had been remotely shy about her feelings or desires. Liara hadn't made the comment lewdly or suggestively – it had rolled off the tongue before she'd even thought about it.

But there was Commander Shepard, Hero of Elysium and Saviour of the Citadel, blushing at the notion of sharing a bed with the mother of her child. Clearly they'd been there before.

"Suppose it'd be nice for the kid to know that I'm not made of metal," Shepard mumbled, rising from the sofa.

"My bedroom's upstairs," Liara gestured. "Have a look in the drawers."

Reluctantly, Shepard put Amilia down in the circle warded by shimmering purple barriers purpose-made for penning in wandering children, and quietly ascended up the glass stairs – which was somewhat difficult in full armour.

Below, Liara prepared the tea and whatever snack of substance she could muster. Above, she could hear the clanking of Shepard removing the plate sections of armour. Liara toyed with the idea of going upstairs, offering a hand. Breaking down the metal that surrounded Shepard. Touching her hand to Shepard's bare chest to feel her resurgent heart beating. Feeling the warmth of her body. Pulling Shepard down to her lips. Clawing the undergarments off. Pushing them both onto the bed–

"Why don't you have anything that's like a t-shirt and sweats?"

Shepard's call caused the tea cup to slip from Liara's grasp, and rattle the rest of the china on the tray.

"I have plenty of comfortable clothing," Liara insisted, feeling a little flushed. The return of her sexual desire was not unexpected but it was rather pleasantly surprising to feel aroused again. Sex and physical pleasure had been far from Liara's mind in the past few years. Grief, a broken heart and a newborn had extinguished that part of her for the time being.

Now wrenched from her day dream, Liara caught sight Amilia attempting to pull herself up onto the sofa. Liara could see where she was going – up onto the sofa and over the barrier. Liara was sure that there wasn't much grip on the material of that sofa, and that Amilia hadn't quite developed her upper-body strength to accomplish such an act yet. But she was making a good go at it...

Liara swiftly swept the baby up in her arms, making the wise decision not to underestimate the escapist feats of any daughter of Shepard's.

Liara resolved to reprogram the baby barrier to stifle Amilia's ambitions and headed to the main console to do so. She made the mistake of casting a glance up to the mezzanine level where her bed was.

And froze as Shepard's bare back came into her line of sight.

Shepard was raking through her drawers in the hope of finding something suitable, while Liara was raking her eyes over the flesh she had long since touched with her fingertips. The Commander's strong, muscular shoulders were beautiful, the pale smooth skin only marred by scars that almost accentuated the lines of her toned frame. Liara did not recognised those scars. Memories fade, certainly, but she had worshipped Shepard's body intimately and those scars were new to her.

This was almost certainly evidence of Cerberus's work. Unsightly scarring was a tiny price, and from the look of them, Liara guessed would fade as Shepard healed. It didn't matter to her though. Just a strange reminder.

Which was quickly dismissed as Shepard turned, exposing the side of her torso and breast. The Commander was oblivious to Liara watching below.

Liara forced herself to turn away, flushed like she was a naughty school child caught with a copy of Fornax, or looking through the window of the beautiful woman next door as she undressed.

But this beautiful woman was hers. Or she had been. Looking at her used to be her privilege, not her shame; though Liara had been rather bashful when first confronted with the naked form.

"You like wearing t-shirts in bed," Shepard reminded her loudly. "You stole my old ICT one."

"I loved that t-shirt," Liara acknowledged. She didn't exactly steal it. She wore it often, but always made sure Shepard had a turn when the scent faded slightly

Liara could picture exactly where she left it on the Normandy. It was by Shepard's bed in the XO cabin, neatly folded in the drawer Shepard had generously afforded her. Also in there was a love letter of sorts that Liara had composed, hoping that one day Shepard would go looking in there for some reason. But damn the Commander for respecting her privacy.

It was all space debris now.

Liara was so lost in the corridors and recesses of the Normandy, that she didn't hear Shepard coming back downstairs.

Shepard: dressed in one of her high-neck, ankle-length comfort dresses and looking extremely self-conscious in it.

"This doesn't feel suitable for hand-to-hand," Shepard muttered, tugging at the fabric around her. "I think kicking's going to be a problem. And running."

"You'll be doing none of that," Liara murmured, daring to reach out a hand to run over the clothed hip of the Commander. "You know, you can look rather elegant."

"Don't feel it," Shepard grumbled.

"Come and have some tea," Liara beckoned, Amilia dozing to one side in her arms. That was one thing about the child – when she decided she was tired, she could sleep anywhere.

"Don't think I can handle this," Shepard muttered, pulling down the fabric at the rear.

"Put her down, and I'll see if I can find my maternity clothes," Liara suggested, handing over the now-lump of a baby to Shepard.

Shepard cradled the child while carefully walking over to the crib. She was quite sure she'd need little encouragement to trip in this full length garment, and she would rather not drop her daughter on their first day together.

Shepard didn't realise that she'd been holding in her breath until she placed Amilia carefully in the bed.

"I think this will be more your style," Liara said behind her.

Shepard was overjoyed to see such tatty and casual clothing in Liara's hands.

"It'll be a bit on the big side," Liara said as she passed it to Shepard, then retreated into the kitchen to fetch the tea.

Shepard wasted no time in stripping herself free of the dress and pulling on the shortened trousers with an elasticated waistband and the white sleeveless shirt. Though drowned in fabric, she felt much more at ease.

As Liara carried the tray to the coffee table, Shepard tugged out on the waistband to the maximum size.

"How big were you?" Shepard wondered aloud. She instantly regretted uttering those words.

"I carried your child and your going to shame me about my size?" Liara teased.

Shepard wouldn't lie. That beginning part made something inside her swoon. The primordially satisfying thought of Liara having her baby. But the regret came from the year of pregnancy, and planning, and worry that Liara had to undergo alone.

"Huge," Liara answered eventually, pouring out a cup of tea for them both. "Towards the end I was desperate for her to arrive so that getting up from a chair wasn't such an ordeal any more."

"I can see that," Shepard said softly, staring down into the dark space between the extended waistband and her own stomach. "I am sorry."

"You can't be sorry, Shepard," Liara said dismissively.

"You shouldn't have had to do it alone," Shepard sighed, taking a seat next to Liara and accepting the steaming cup.

"That was my choice," Liara said slowly. "There were some I perhaps should have told, that would have been happy to help. But the way I was… I didn't want to be around anyone."

"Who would you have told?"

"Tali, I suppose," Liara said. "She tried to be there for me when we all started to slip away from each other. I… couldn't."

"So she doesn't know about the baby?"

Liara shook her head and sighed. "Latest intel on the Migrant Fleet is suspiciously thin. Something is happening, and she may be too caught up in work with her people. Or she could returning the silent treatment I gave her a year ago."

"Most likely the fleet," Shepard assured her.

"I'll tell you who does know," Liara said, her face lighting up. "Your mother."

Shepard ungracefully spat out her tea. "My mother?"

"Yes."

"Captain Hannah Shepard?"

"Yes," Liara said, revelling in Shepard's reaction as the human wiped her tea soaked chin on the white shirt. The shirt had been washed clean of many stains before Liara came to term – usually it was a swift kick inside her belly that caused her to mark the top.

"How? Why?"

"You and I weren't exactly a secret."

"I know, I told her myself," Shepard said, still not recovered from the shock. "I told her that I was in love with an amazing Asari. She told me not to be so foolish. And that was the end of it."

"She came to see me at my office," Liara said. "If I recall, the Alliance had covertly negotiated the release of two of their soldiers that were of some interest to a Justicar several worlds away. They had to evacuated from Asari space."

"She told you that?"

"No, Shepard. Intel told me that. While her ship was docked and the final release negotiation was taking place, she stopped by to give me her condolences," Liara said, staring into her swirling tea. "I was too pregnant to hide it behind the desk. And I didn't want her to think you so disposable to me that it wasn't yours. So I told her."

Shepard swore loudly enough to wake the baby. Fortunately, Amilia did not so much as stir.

"She was wonderful," Liara said. "She was so happy. She came back at first opportunity when Amilia was born. She calls quite often."

Shepard rubbed her face roughly and shook her head. "And I haven't even called to tell her I'm Not Dead yet."

"You should, because I won't be lying to your mother for you," Liara said with a playful smile.

"It's gonna go down like a Batarian cruiser on a suicide mission," Shepard groaned.

"It won't. She'll be ecstatic that you're alive."

"Yeah, I can picture her delirium when I tell her what colours my new ship's flying," Shepard mumbled into her hands.

"That was my doing," Liara said, reaching her hand out to rest on Shepard's thigh.

"If she murders me, then Cerberus could always bring me back again."

"Glad you're at the point where you can make jokes about it," Liara said grimly, not realising that she was only encouraging Shepard.

"I'm sure they've got warehouses full of cybernetic implants. I'm so silcone, but my assets haven't improved any," Shepard said, allowing a suggestive smile to play on her lips. "Sorry to disappoint."

"That cannot be all they did," Liara murmured, rolling her delicate tea cup between her palms. Her touch was gentle on the china as it was on Shepard's still form, the day Liara handed her to Cerberus.

Liara wanted to touch her once more, because she did not truly believe in the impossible. A fraction of a chance was all the encouragement she needed to go through Hell to get Shepard to Cerberus. That's all anyone suffering from extreme grief needs to hear.

"Probably set a kill switch in there somewhere. Or control chip. I know which I'd prefer," Shepard said flippantly. "Not to mention pulling off an actual resurrection. From dust and bones and withered—"

"Yes, Shepard, I'm aware of the challenge you posed," Liara snapped, refusing to look up. Shepard's human instinct to inject some black humour into the subject did not rest well with Liara. "The question is – At what cost?"

"Liara..."

"I left you there, without any good options, without knowing what they would or could do – What they would expect in return for their miracle and their billions of credits when you woke – Like a skycab running up the fare meter!" Liara blurted.

Shepard's face. Liara knew that face. It wasn't the expression of someone taking this perfectly seriously. It wasn't colour of a solemn individual. It wasn't the puffed cheeks of sober reflection.

The laughter that the Commander has been struggling to restrain suddenly burst forth, in ugly, gulping guffaws.

Liara caught her breath in her throat.

"Shepard! I am being serious!" she insisted. "What do they want from you?"

"Save the galaxy," Shepard said matter-of-factly. "What else?"

"Shepard."

"I'm being serious."

"Well… It's so hard to tell when you're making jokes and laughing – and nothing about this is funny!" Liara finished angrily as Shepard succumbed to giggles once more.

"I get you, Liara, this is serious," Shepard said, doing her utmost to regain composure in the face of Liara's fury. "But I missed you doing this. Your indignant rage. Where you're always inevitably right and just. You're the best person, my favourite person, though you do have tiny competition now."

Perfectly on cue, a gurgle sounded from Amilia's crib. With a smile, Shepard got up off the couch to check on the source of such a noise.

Liara's worry and fear softened as she watched Shepard stooped over the crib. She couldn't help but go to her.

"It's OK, she's still asleep," Shepard informed her with a whisper.

Liara slid her arms around the Commander's waist, and tightened her hold like a noose. She wasn't letting go again.

"I missed you every single day. And I didn't even realise how much until I had you back with me," Liara murmured, resting her face against Shepard.

"You were all that I missed. Even more than breathing," Shepard joked gently, holding onto Liara's hands at the front of her stomach.

"I feel so lucky to have you back," Liara whispered into Shepard's back.

"To be fair, you were pretty unlucky to lose me in the first place," Shepard said, swivelling herself round in Liara's hold to face her. "But lucky to have her."

"I have Amilia," Liara agreed softly. "Same eyes."

"Really?" Shepard said quietly. "You think she looks like me?"

Shepard stared down at the sleeping child, and furrowed her brow.

"But my eyes are green, hers are blue."

"You have to see past the Asari," Liara urged, her hand reaching for Shepard's cheek. "You're in there."

Shepard gazed down, slowly appreciating Liara's words.

"Just to make it obvious," Shepard started. "You could have named her after me."

Liara laughed softly, moving behind once again and slipping her arms around the waist of the woman she loved. Liara rested her chin on Shepard's shoulder. Shepard was a couple of inches taller than her, which caused her to raise herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the cheek.

"You hate your given name," Liara said.

"No, I don't," Shepard said, her misdirection smothering the lie. "Commander Shepard. It's kind of awesome. I wasn't expecting the Commander part. Y'know, she could get that if she wanted to. If or when she earns it. Or just Baby Girl Commander. That's a kid you don't mess with on the playground."

"Oh – you were expecting me to name her 'Shepard'," Liara realised, trying to refrain from any external signs of bemusement.

"All I'm saying is: it's a strange name for a baby."

"Yes, yes it is," Liara agreed seriously.

"Especially an Asari baby. And that way people would know she was named after someone," Shepard said, like this was an intricate master plan coming to obvious fruition.

"They might just think me a crazed fan. Another Conrad Verner," Liara mused. "A 'groupie' in Earth parlance. And she would have to live with that for a thousand years."

Shepard nodded soberly. A thousand years – hopefully with all good grace and luck. But Shepard would barely be there for a tenth of it.

Shepard pushed that from her mind. That was not something to think about. Leave it until she made it to ninety – then she'd start to worry about it. If she made it to ninety.

"It's amazing," Shepard shook her head, trying to memorise every detail of the little one below her.

"The thought of me as a your devoted fan, or Asari lifespan?"

As intriguing as that image of Liara was, Shepard shook her head to indicate neither.

"I know it's pretty basic to an illustrious scientist such as yourself; fundamental to all life and has been going on for eons – but a baby is just staggering when you really think about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well there was nothing. Then there's a baby. A thinking, feeling, gorgeous being just out of nowhere. And she's going to grow up and be as big as you are – and then do the whole thing all over again," Shepard shook her head in disbelief. "I've got no problem jumping into mass relays with all their incomprehensible technology and coming out thousands of light years away on the other side. But a baby? Just gets me."

"We know how procreation works, Shepard," Liara said.

"I know, I know. I don't mean to sound like an idiot, but it's utterly amazing," Shepard sighed, reaching down to lightly stroke the baby's cheek.

She wanted to badly to wake Amilia. To be in her conscious presence. However Shepard guessed that the same was true of all young – no matter what race, gender, species or colour: never wake them.

"Shepard –" Liara said quietly, turning the Commander's face back to her. "Will you come to bed with me?"

"I can't decide if you were going for dirty or you're just really tired," Shepard said.

"It's not that I don't want to," Liara said quickly. "Goddess, I want you-"

That was enough.

Shepard needed no further invitation to claim Liara's lips in a hungry kiss that made up for every day they had been apart. Liara responded in kind, grasping Shepard's face to hers; needing to feel every part of Shepard.

The kiss wasn't enough. They knew it wasn't. The desire for more quickly consumed them, as they made a silent pact to stagger to the bedroom.

The fumbled backwards for a few steps, solidly connected at the mouth and brains concentrated on the effort of the hands to strip the clothing from each of their bodies. The feet were working under their own steam and it wouldn't be long until they tumbled.

Decisively, Shepard placed her hands under Liara's rear, pulling her up against her and encouraging Liara's strong thighs to wrap around Shepard's waist. Shepard carried Liara effortlessly up the stairs, like she was imbued with the strength of ten Krogan. All with the aim of getting her beloved onto the bed so that they may reintroduce their aching flesh to each other once more.

Shepard and Liara, glistening with a well-earned mist of perspiration, wore the naked expressions of sated bliss as they studied each other anew. They mirrored each other, both propped up on an elbow, with hands meeting in the middle of the bed, fingers entwined.

"Shepard," Liara started, her breath hitching in her throat. She didn't want to entertain this notion, but it was soon to be reality. To deny it to prolong their bubble in this world would lead to harsher truths. "I know you can't stay."

"Liara–" Shepard said, reaching out for her instantly. Shepard was no more willing to step outside this pocket of contentment either.

"I know you can't," Liara said firmly. "And so do you."

Shepard couldn't deny it. To do so would be to lie to the one she loved.

"I can make this work," Shepard said softly. "I can. I want to."

"I'm sorry I can't be with you in this," Liara whispered.

"Other option is: you go away and fight the Collectors and I'll be a stay at home mom," Shepard smiled, enjoying the idle thought. "Actually, I really like that idea."

"Cerberus didn't rebuild the Normandy for my benefit," she pointed out sadly. "Or do the impossible to have you here today."

"You'd be an excellent Commander," Shepard said decisively. "I can see you now on the CIC. Politely asking Joker to stop playing chicken with asteroids and awkwardly avoiding the two robo-humans that evidently came as a package deal with the ship. You'd enjoy EDI though."

"What's an EDI?"

"Ship's AI."

Liara raised her eyebrows.

"I know," Shepard acknowledged. "Not my choice, but she is worth it to wind Joker up."

"Any other new additions I should know of before I take my post?"

"There's a Yeoman. Bit touchy-feely. Get the sense she thinks of the world as her emotional litter box. You'd dislike her instantly."

"Why? Because she's being 'touchy-feely' with you?" Liara accused.

"Wouldn't put it past her," Shepard leaned in. "I'm irresistible."

"While I appreciate that basic fact of life–"

"Me being irresistible, you mean," Shepard interrupted for confirmation, which was met with a rare eyeroll from Liara.

"Certainly," she said, without a hint a mockery, even though it was written all over her face. "Even with that said, I hope your irresistible self will resist any of her advances."

"Oh she's so resistable," Shepard nodded vehemently. "You wouldn't believe how resistable, with the hair, and the voice."

Shepard shuddered, just to make the point.

"I see. And how about the rest of your crew?"

"Just a bunch of Cerberus people," Shepard mumbled. "Nothing to worry about."

"I've met Cerberus people, remember," Liara mused, thinking back to Omega a few years ago. "To get you back. One in particular suggested Feron and I 'put our bumpy heads together'. Essence of charm in white catsuit."

"Maybe sounds like Miranda," Shepard mumbled again.

"You would think that there'd be nothing to hide in such a skin-tight costume," Liara said disdainfully.

"Don't know, hadn't noticed," Shepard yawned, cuddling into Liara's arm.

"You liar," Liara laughed, pushing Shepard from her.

"All right, she's hot. But annoying and probably vaguely evil if she's that into Cerberus," Shepard said. "Don't fancy space racists anyway."

"See that you don't," Liara said, accepting Shepard to her breast once more.

"Everything's changed," Shepard said softly, snuggling in tighter.

"So much can happen in a few years," Liara agreed, smoothing Shepard's tangled red hair.

"So much has happened in the past few hours," Shepard said. "I used to dream of us. Idle daydreams between gunfights. Future and a life, and kids… It's kinda already happened. And I missed the first bit. And I know I have to go, but I don't want to miss much more."

"You won't," Liara promised with a kiss to the forehead. "You'll come back to us."

Whatever else happened out in the black of space, that was the only thing Shepard knew for sure.

She would always make it back.

AN - Have been working on bits and pieces of this for a long time. There may be another part to this in the future when I need to seek refuge from the angst. Hope you enjoyed :)