Liara trailed despondently behind Shepard as they made their way back up to her chambers; she hadn't expected to be coming back this way so soon, if ever, but it was preferable to the alternative. She could still feel the eyes of the others on her, watching her progress up the stairs, she drew Shepard's coat closer, drawing a peculiar comfort from the lingering scent of warm, clean skin.
Shepard glanced back occasionally, verifying that her prisoner was following and what else could she do now? There were too many; besides, she had given her word, and somehow that mattered, though her mother insisted that a promise given to an enemy was not worth the breath used to speak it.
Liara lifted her skirts a little higher to make navigating the last few steps easier and imagined she could feel those hostile eyes moving to examine her legs. She winced; a day in this place was going to drive her mad, how would she survive until her escape? She'd be a paranoid wreck by the time she left, and just what had Shepard meant about requiring more than her word? Had she not honored her word last time? That should have been enough, but Shepard wouldn't have made it this far by being trusting… or merciful.
They finally reached the landing after what seemed an age and Shepard glared down over the edge at her crew, they dispersed quickly, rushing back to their chores lest she remark on any stragglers. Liara wasn't sure whether this was an entirely welcome development, it raised questions about what someone as young as Shepard could have done to inspire fear among her peers and how she could have instilled that grudging respect among them to the point that she could name herself a leader.
Liara shook off the thought, she had far more pressing concerns, starting with what Shepard intended for her now that she would be staying in the room. Shepard gestured her through the door into the chamber and Liara complied graciously, pausing once inside to look back at her captor.
"Am I to remain here all day?"
"I thought that's what you requested." Shepard arched an eyebrow in a vaguely menacing fashion.
"Yes, but… what am I to do with my time?"
"That's not really any of my concern, though if you're desperate for ideas, I can think of ways to keep you occupied." Shepard gave her a frankly appreciative leer, her lips tilted into something between a smile and a smirk.
Under any other circumstances, Liara might have laughed even as she blushed. Now she blushed and stepped back, fingers clamping in her jacket even harder.
"You implied that my word was not sufficient guarantee against an escape."
Shepard shrugged, her face become suspiciously smooth once more. "It's not. You're a natural biotic with a definite motive for escape. First, the cuffs go back on."
Liara opened her mouth to protest but Shepard raised a hand sternly, "I am not bargaining with you, Dr. T'Soni; you asked a favor of me, I will dictate the terms."
She nodded, her wrists feeling heavy from the phantom weight of the cuffs she would soon have to wear once more.
"Secondly," Shepard's gaze focused on her sharply, demanding her full attention. Liara found she couldn't look away from those piercing green eyes.
Shepard blinked rapidly, it seemed she had momentarily lost her thought, but with a visible effort she focused once more.
"Secondly, strip."
Liara sputtered indignantly, "I beg your pardon?" She could feel a blush of anger and shame rising, how dare this woman make such an outrageous request; she'd rather take her chances with the crew downstairs than surrender what pitiful covering she had.
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Shepard watched with interest as Dr. T'Soni's blush spread up her neck, brightening her already striking eyes; she regretted the jacket that blocked her view of anything else, but if this played out as she expected that would soon be gone too.
"I didn't think I was unclear. Strip."
"Why?" Liara fidgeted uneasily, frustration and fear and unwilling excitement mingling in her voice. Shepard felt a small stab of pity, normally she wasn't in the habit of explaining her orders but- "This way I can ensure you won't try to make a run for it. You wouldn't risk coming into contact with the crew."
Well, that wasn't the whole reason, but if she confessed to a desire to have the asari bare to her view she knew full well her captive might take her chances downstairs. She was really rather attached to this idea now, and loathe to negotiate any further.
"Or I could simply cuff you to the bed again, that would be every bit as effective."
She could see Liara weighing her choices, every thought reflected in those eyes. Shepard did her best to keep the hopefulness from her expression as Liara scanned her face for any sign of her intentions. Her eyes darted to the bed and back, fingers brushing the jacket softly for comfort.
"Alright."
Shepard hadn't known she'd been holding her breath until she let it out in a muffled sigh. She was certain she had the better end of this deal, but that was the advantage of holding the power.
Shepard told herself she would at least grant the doctor a modicum of privacy while she changed, but really what was the point of pretenses? She found her gaze caught as Liara slid the jacket from her shoulders, walking over to the bed to lay it carefully down. She kept her back turned as she tried to undo the stays of her dress, struggling with the smaller buttons in the back.
She jumped when Shepard glided up behind her, batting her hands gently away, "I'll do it."
She couldn't help the husky purr in her voice, her throat had gone dry the second Liara had nodded her acquiescence. Her fingers trembled at their work, fumbling the buttons several times until they finally came undone. She pushed the fabric down Liara's arms slowly, seeing the goose bumps rising on her flesh in the cool air, Liara caught the dress and held it to her.
"I can take it from here." She glanced over her shoulder, watching to see how Shepard would react.
Shepard smiled roguishly, dipping her head in teasing acceptance, doing her best not to show any trace of the giddiness she was feeling. She stepped away, admiring the curve of Liara's back, the smoothness of her skin that she had felt beneath her fingertips. This was wrong; she knew it and she just couldn't bring herself to care.
Liara drew a deep breath, pulling the dress the rest of the way down and kicking it away; she leaned over the bed to grab the covers and Shepard's heart nearly stopped.
Those freckles were everywhere, trailing along her back and over her thighs; at the moment she wanted nothing more than to step closer and trace her tongue in patterns over every one. And that was an entirely inappropriate response to have to one's helpless prisoner. There was something terrifyingly alluring about that, but Shepard pushed the thought aside resolutely. Dr. T'Soni would have the respect she deserved; she hushed the little voice that whispered this wasn't entirely professional.
She nearly laughed aloud when Liara looped the sheet about herself, tying it at her side tightly in a makeshift dress. Damn, she hadn't considered that one.
"I thought I made it clear there was a good reason for your disrobing?"
"This will serve every bit as well; I won't be able to move quickly without risking it coming undone. Your purpose is therefore accomplished, I will not run."
Shepard studied the effect critically, fighting to keep her breathing even. It was a reasonable compromise, but she wondered how Liara would react if she confessed that this was even sexier than seeing her in the nude. The artificial light cast shadows through the thin, white material, showing every curve of her body to best advantage and there was something inherently erotic about seeing the doctor wrapped in her sheets.
"You're right. Keep it."
Just as Liara began to relax, Shepard spoke again. "The cuffs still go on."
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Liara glared at her captor, inwardly reviewing her options; she could cooperate and become complicit in her own downfall or she could rebel and probably earn nothing for her trouble save a few mocking comments from Shepard. Part of her wanted to choose that option just to be spiteful; she had noted her body's reaction to Shepard's proximity as she helped her with the dress and it was deeply unsettling. Worse, she suspected that Shepard too had noticed; it had been enough of a trial keeping her composure through that, but she would just as soon salvage as much of her dignity as she could.
She pulled the cuffs from the bed and clamped them over her wrists, "Satisfied?"
Shepard gave her a very cat-like smile, "Very."
Liara didn't know how she should interpret that comment, but cursed the bolt of arousal that raced up her spine at the sight of that sharp smile. She could see a hint of Shepard's canines, and entertained the briefest thought of what it might have been like if Shepard had sunk those teeth into the skin of her neck softly as she had peeled the dress from her, work-roughened hands gliding beneath the fabric to explore the curve of her back as she slipped the buttons from their stays…
Goddess! It seemed she still carried some lingering sentiment from their seeming connection the night of the party, she would have to keep watch on that in the days to come or it could be turned against her. Liara reminded herself that lust was a perfectly natural reaction, especially with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and Shepard was still very attractive, even if she was the enemy. Liara shook her head, if Shepard had made any such attempts, she would have struck her on principal. She reminded herself that canines were left to humans as a way to tear into their prey. She was not prey, and Shepard would learn that to her detriment if she tried anything at all, though she was beginning to suspect that Shepard at least was safe.
Casually cruel, decidedly ruthless, but safe. And that in and of itself was dangerous.
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It had taken her nearly an hour to find Shiala; precious time that she could ill afford to lose if she wanted to ensure she had any influence on Aethyta. She was loathe to admit it, but ultimately it had been sheer serendipity that sent her acolyte to cross her path.
After searching Shiala's quarters and her own, sending runners to seek her out in the dark corners of the Citadel as well as the bright she had found her at last, crossing the bridge that led back to her quarters.
Benezia descended on her, feeling a little like the mythical harpy; all fiery vengeance and barely contained violence. Her countenance betrayed no hint of her state of mind though, it seldom did- only Aethyta could provoke her so much that…! It did no good to dwell on the past, time was running short.
"Shiala, there is a task I would set you if you are willing."
It would have been a violation of the very laws she herself had helped to craft if she had simply dispensed an order, but if Shiala refused-
"Anything."
The tightness in her chest loosened somewhat; it was that earnestness that had persuaded her Shiala was the best choice for what she had in mind; dedicated and capable, if there was anyone that could help her salvage this wreck it would be she.
"Walk with me."
Shiala required no further prompting, falling into step beside her mentor gracefully.
"Aethyta is assembling a crew to take to Earth. She's been given the final authority on any actions they commit to. I need you to ensure that she approves all the right ones and none of the foolhardy recklessness she usually subscribes to."
"Basic infiltration."
"I want you to choose those you would have accompany us and ensure that Aethyta recruits them. We must be ready to act should she fail."
Shiala's eyes widened in comprehension. "Mutiny-"
"Is a capital crime. It will not go so far as that. I need only confirm that I have enough supporters in place to tip the balance in my favor should Aethyta seek council."
"Which you think she would ask of her crew?"
Benezia sent her such a withering look that Shiala winced slightly, "As you say, I will find her."
"I am grateful. You should check the seedier clubs first; Aethyta was ever more comfortable there than she was in respectable company."
If Shiala heard the edge of bitterness in Benezia's tone she did not comment on it, but instead she turned and loped off the way she had come, leaving Benezia staring wistfully after her.
It did not sit comfortably with her, dispatching another to attend to duties that ought rightfully have been hers, but years of practice made it simpler; Aethyta would not recognize her hand in this, and it was better that way for all concerned.
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Aethyta glanced impatiently the time-piece above the bar; damn it, when was Nezzie's plant going to get here? She should have been gone forty minutes ago when the rest of her recruits had assembled for a quick toast and then rushed off to pack their gear. Was it possible that Benezia had opted for the straightforward route this once? It would be terribly out of character if she didn't try to undermine her control and seize the power for herself.
Which was why she was sitting here in this shitty strip joint waiting for some bumbling maiden that might or might not appear. She couldn't afford to wait much longer, she had her own preparations to make before she could get this mission underway; starting with acquiring a ship to match her crew. Tevos had assured her there was one awaiting her pleasure in the docking bay, a swift re-purposed merchant vessel with the newly christened name of Nightwing.
It was a good start, but she wasn't going to commit to taking it until she had seen to the inspection and any necessary repairs herself. As she ran through the growing checklist in her mind's eye an asari commando strolled through the door, looking rather serene in the hectic environment. She waved away the patron that approached her, ignoring the dancers gyrating on the poles above the bar in favor of scanning the patrons, paying special attention to any asari her gaze fell upon.
About damn time; Benezia must be getting slow in her old age.
The commando made her way to the bar and slid into a seat next to Aethyta, gesturing to the barkeep for a drink.
"I heard you were-"
"Spare me the bullshit. I'll tell you what's going on. You are the first of a wave of recruits Nezzie will send my way"
The maiden opened her mouth to speak and Aethyta stabbed a threatening finger at her. "Not a word, kid, or I'll walk and you can slink back to your mistress like a little bitch with your tail between your legs. Where was I? Oh yes. As I was saying, Benezia told you I'm a wild card, dangerously unpredictable. She wants you to play collar to her leash, but it's not going to work that way. You want aboard my ship? Fine. You take my orders. That means anything Benezia is plotting, I hear about it first. In turn, you get to tag along and play the faithful acolyte, watch her back, be her advocate. Lastly, You breathe a word to her of our arrangement and I'll space you. Clear?"
The younger asari quaffed her drink in a single swallow, eyes watering at the bitter sting of alcohol. "Clear." She croaked.
Benezia was waiting for them when they finally arrived at the loading bay, her eyes were clear as ever, but her rigid posture bespoke impatience. All well and good, she hadn't spent the last hour sipping whiskey while she waited for some green recruit to approach her with the intent of deceit.
Shiala trailed behind Aethyta along with a handful of other asari, still feeling a little dazed after her brief conversation with the matriarch but trying to appear collected. She had a long way to go before she so much as neared Nezzie's level.
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Aethyta smiled brightly as they approached; "Didn't expect to see you here so quickly. Why aren't you aboard?"
She could practically hear Benezia's teeth grinding; or at least she would, if Benezia ever did anything so childish like grinding her teeth in fury. As it was she had to settle for an icy glare and a tilt of the chin. That look bothered her unduly; there was a time Nezzie's eyes warmed whenever they fell on her lover and Aethyta was determined to see that look again. The widening eyes and dilating pupils, her panting breath and spreading blush, that was the memory Aethyta treasured; it would be a pleasure to strip this mask from her, in more ways than one.
"I do not have access to the ship, as you well know."
Aethyta raised her brows and mustered a false expression of surprise, "Could that be because I'm in charge? Don't worry; I'll let you aboard directly. Right after I finish my inspection."
The light blush of anger that rose in Benezia's cheeks was a balm to her soul; she was looking forward to the challenge ahead, but it was heartening to see she was already making progress.
Benezia clasped her hands resolutely in front of her, reminding herself that it was bad form to attack a former lover; she mustn't drop a singularity on her or fly into a fit of rage and scratch her eyes out. Neither could she glide over, slam Aethyta into a wall and catch that smug mouth in a kiss designed to leave her too breathless to argue. It was all too undignified, she would just have to settle for dark glances and forbidding silence. Aethyta did like the sound of her own voice, but half her satisfaction was derived from tricking her enemies into responding. Benezia had far too much experience with that particular tactic to fall for it so easily again.
Her eyes fell on Shiala; it seemed she had succeeded in making contact and convincing Aethyta to let her aboard. Benezia had expected no less. She had also seen to it that three of the other seven asari were her sisters-in-arms, she could work with those numbers. She had noted Shiala's pallor and her occasional twitches as Aethyta spoke; she would have to have a word with her, Aethyta's speeches tended to make her a little twitchy too, but it was an impulse that had to be ruthlessly controlled lest it was exploited.
Aethyta strolled up the gangplank of the ship, gesturing to her to follow. Was she a dog to come at her mistress' bidding? Benezia stayed where she was, frowning disapprovingly until Aethyta's squad fell in behind their leader. Then, making it abundantly clear that she was in no hurry, she sauntered up the gangplank a few paces behind.
Aethyta sealed the door behind them, dropping back to walk beside Benezia; "This is a former merchant vessel; she's quick and sturdy, but living space is sparse, most of the ship was designed to hold cargo. You lot will be bunking in the crew's quarters, room for all of you, but a tight fit."
She glanced down to Benezia, and the tilt of her smile turned unpleasant; "You will take the captain's quarters."
Benezia knew where this was going, but she had to ask just to be sure; "And where will you be staying?"
"The captain's quarters."
"Obviously." Benezia murmured.
If it were possible, Shiala grew even paler at these words; Benezia noted the flash of concern on her face and made a placating gesture behind Aethyta's back. She was no maiden to air her displeasure in public or shriek her complaints. She would deal with this later, away from prying eyes.
"As the… acting captain of this ship, I will leave you to your duties." She turned and hurried away as quickly as she could without actually appearing to. She had always tended more toward peace-keeping than warfare, even in her maiden stage, but she recognized a key element shared between the two: the one who held the disputed territory tended to win. The trick then was to ensure that she was well-established in their quarters before Aethyta arrived.
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Aethyta watched her go, inwardly satisfied. If only Benezia knew how very predictable she had become; she thought she could dictate the terms of engagement if she held the field, but somehow she had failed to notice that this ship, in its entirety, was already firmly in Aethyta's hands. The thought would occur to her, if it hadn't already, and she would try to compensate by organizing her quarters according to her liking, re-arranging Aethyta's belongings as she pleased.
It hardly mattered; ETA to earth was around twenty hours and Aethyta could care less what became of her things, but the important thing was that Benezia felt comfortable enough to grow complacent, and that would be no easy trick. She glanced at Shiala from the corner of her eye, there was progress at least; Benezia would be satisfied that her opinions were sufficiently represented.
To be honest she could hardly be bothered to give a damn about inspecting the ship at the moment, Tevos had assured her the ship was in working order and her word was sufficient; it was sheer habit that had her poking around the vessel looking for any sign of structural weakness or technical malfunctions. Her mind had long since retired to her quarters, even if her body went through the motions. Short as the voyage would be, they would both need sleep; there was no telling how little they would have once they reached their destination and it was best to be prepared.
It had been more than a century since she last shared a bed with Benezia, but she still recalled her habit of stealing all the blankets and laying her head on her lover's arm until it had fallen asleep. She hadn't thought she could miss that until suddenly she didn't have it anymore; no more cold nights, no more sleep-tingly arm and bed-hogging bond-mate. She was looking forward to it, if only they could stop sniping at each other long enough to sleep.
Cursory inspection completed, Aethyta left her squad to find their way back to their quarters- she wasn't their mother to have to hold them by the hand every step of the way. In no time at all she stood before the door of her temporary quarters, listening for the sound of movement within. Silence. Had Benezia gone out to explore the ship? Unlikely, she would want to be present and alert whenever Aethyta arrived.
Aethyta keyed in the entry code and stepped through, taking in the layout of the room; Benezia sat at the compact desk in the corner, making organized notes on her data-pad. Of course.
She turned when Aethyta entered the room, but opted not to stand. Aethyta's lips quirked in amusement; she felt a little like a supplicant addressing a queen, and that was undoubtedly what Benezia intended. She scanned the room searchingly to take in any changes Benezia might have made; nothing had really been displaced, but somehow the room felt a little more comfortable just for having Benezia in it. Not that she'd ever say as much, Benezia already had a healthy dose of egotism; no need to compound it by offering her compliments too.
"When do we depart?"
"Pilot has directions to proceed when ready; we're waiting on word from traffic control." Aethyta cursed the old habit that made her respond immediately to Benezia's questions, it wouldn't do to have her thinking she had her wrapped about her slender fingers.
"What is this ship called?"
Aethyta was too busy watching her sensuous lips form the words to stifle her response, "Nightwing."
A pained expression stiffened her face and then was gone. What possible significance could the name have for her? Another mystery of Benezia she would have to apply herself to solving.
Aethyta could feel the hum of the engines beneath her feet as the ship fired up; "Looks like we're moving." Damnit, as if that wasn't obvious. Benezia had always tied her knots; apparently a century's worth of experience hadn't changed that about her.
"Good." There was edge to Nezzie's tone that sent a wary tingle through her frame; she could almost pity the bastards that had taken Liara. The vorcha-fuckers wouldn't know what hit them when they descended. Aethyta felt a measure of control returning; Benezia had spent these last years mediating conflicts and arranging treaties, that didn't mean she was any more inclined to mercy than Aethyta herself when crossed.
As for her, she'd spent their time apart figuring out exactly how much damage she could do before someone grew a quad and tried to stop her. The answer was a whole fucking lot.
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Liara hadn't thought it possible, but over the last couple of hours she had slowly come to the realization that she was bored. Bored and hungry and vexed.
Shepard hadn't left the area since they had marched back up here two hours ago, she was still sitting in that old chair, one leg crossed over the other as she fiddled with her data-pad. Shouldn't she have duties to attend to? Authority to assert, minions to terrorize, someone else to babysit even? Was this going to become habit?
She couldn't sit still anymore, it was too much. Liara jumped to her feet and began pacing, careful to hold her make-shift clothing close lest she trip on it and completely unravel all her work. Shepard glanced up at her for a moment; satisfied that she was not attempting to run she turned back to the screen.
What was she supposed to do with her time? How many days of this did she have to look forward to and would she still be sane by the end of it? She counted her footsteps from one end of the room to the other, fifteen steps across and… twenty steps deep. Not that it really mattered.
Shepard was watching her again, eyebrows raised in a question Liara was not eager to answer but… "Were you planning to feed me or do I starve?"
As though to punctuate her words her stomach rumbled and Liara blushed hotly, shrinking in on herself. Shepard smiled winningly and Liara cursed her poise. "Of course, whenever you're ready."
"You're going to make me go downstairs? In this?"
"No, but if you want to eat, ask nicely."
Liara glared, reminded of childhood lessons with her mother, "Please may I have something to eat?" Shepard was determined to steal every last shred of her dignity, she wouldn't surrender it so easily. Her mother had always said that dignity was independent of circumstance; it depended solely on one's reactions to circumstance. This was her chance to test the theory.
"Yes." Shepard stood and thumped halfway down the stairs before Liara had time to do more than blink.
"Who do I have to kill to get some food up here?"
Liara heard the echo of a response, "Wren's on duty tonight."
"Tell him to get his ass in gear. I'm not coming down."
"Asari keeping you busy?" Coarse laughter, Liara fumed inside.
"Got herself all tangled up in my sheets!"
Liara snarled softly; while technically true, she resented the entendre. Another bill to present to her captor when all was done.
Shepard skipped back up the stairs to the sound of raucous laughter and cat-calling.
Liara's voice strangled with helpless fury, "They think we're…" Liara trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought.
"Fucking." Shepard supplied, going over to sit on the bed, hands resting on her spread legs, "Wren can confirm it when he trips up here."
"Bitch." Liara was shocked, she had seldom resorted to profanity even in the most dire of situations, it must be a mark of her state of mind that that thought should escape now. Liara braced herself, expecting some form of retaliation from Shepard. Hopefully she wouldn't banish her to that little cell downstairs for her impudence.
She seemed impressed more than anything, leaning a little farther forward and grinning appreciatively. "It doesn't mean much coming from you, but I'm just happy to hear you know the word."
"I can think of better." She needed to shut up before she pushed this too far, antagonizing her captor was not part of the plan.
Shepard rose, pacing closer to her, one foot placed gracefully after the other, hips swaying in a way that would have been very distracting if she hadn't been so worried. Liara flinched when Shepard's hands came up to straighten the sheet, smoothing down the front. Her breathing grew shallow as those fingers brushed past her breasts to curl into the fabric near her shoulders, pulling her into contact with the woman.
"Really. Care to demonstrate?" Her voice was low and resonant, hot against the sensitive flesh of her ear, Liara's breathing grew shallow and she stood frozen, not sure how to react to this new turn of events.
"Chief! I got your grub if you want to let it rest for a bit."
Shepard pulled away, all business again. She took the tray from the hands of her underling, the two exchanging a commiserating glance. His eyes raked over Liara consideringly and Shepard stepped between them. "Find your own, this one's taken."
"I might at that, chief." He winked, and with a final wistful glance in her direction headed back down the stairs.
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Shepard assessed the asari carefully, trying to decide how much farther she could be pushed today. It was only the first day of her captivity and already she had been tied to a bed, subjected to the scrutiny of the crew, paraded about like a trophy of war, stripped and finally taunted into making a sharp remark.
Could she get away with feeding the asari herself? Wren had thoughtfully brought up a bowl of soup with a sop of bread and a little watered wine. She could make the asari ask her for every bite, and if the soup spilled a little and had to be licked from her sweet skin so much the better.
Shepard sighed regretfully; she was having one too many idle fantasies about her erstwhile companion, and with her here sharing the bed there was no way to relieve them. Unless of course she cared to help, but based on their limited acquaintance and the words exchanged, Shepard was guessing that would be a resounding no. So much for that.
She made her way over to the bed, tucking her feet beneath her and laying the tray in the center; she gestured to the empty space across from her and Liara approached carefully, arranging the sheets carefully as she perched on the edge as far from Shepard as she could get. Her little rebellions were a trifle endearing, and would make her ultimate victory all the sweeter; she allowed the challenge to pass.
Shepard nudged the tray closer to her, glancing meaningfully at the food. Liara warily accepted, taking the warm bowl in her hands to pull it toward her. She dipped the spoon in cautiously, bringing it to her lips and blowing softly to cool it. Shepard swallowed silently as she tipped it into her mouth, testing it carefully. She finally swallowed, blinking in surprise; Wren wasn't much for presentation, but he was the best cook on the roster.
Shepard could tell Liara was uncomfortable with her steady gaze, but she was too hungry to wait any longer, which made her daintiness all the more amusing. Tiny sips from the spoon and small pieces of the bread broken off, her tongue peeping out to taste it warily before she would put it in her mouth. Shepard hadn't realized how erotic the experience would be, she found herself thinking of other uses for that tongue and shoved the thought aside for deeper consideration later.
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Liara raised the glass to her lips, sipping at the wine, savoring the taste. It wasn't exactly a premium vintage, but it wasn't vinegar either and maybe it would help to calm her nerves a little. Not that she would try to get her drunk or anything, not yet; it probably wouldn't work out in her favor anyway. It just wasn't possible to get so wasted on wine that she could forget her tenuous position for even a moment.
When she set the glass down, Shepard picked it up and turned it to the place where her lips had rested. She locked eyes with the asari as she took a deeper draught herself, licking the moisture from her lips suggestively.
Liara had paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth, her eyes tracking the movement of that tongue assiduously. When she saw the smirk that graced Shepard's lips a lovely blush spread up her chest to her throat, lighting her face. Shame made her shift uncomfortably, accidentally baring just a little more skin.
This was going to be interesting. She couldn't wait for the night.