When Shepard ran downstairs to dispense of the tray, Liara saw her chance to begin making more concrete plans for her escape. She skidded off the bed as soon as her tormentor was out of sight, scurrying over to the wardrobe tucked neatly in the corner. Tug as she would the doors would not open, but there was no sign of… there. Evidently Shepard wasn't one to place her faith in the miracle of technology; there was a key hole in the door, into which one would presumably insert a key.

Liara turned back to the room, scanning it carefully in the hopes that inspiration might strike; she couldn't exactly hack that particular lock and nothing among her Prothean ruins had prepared her for something so primitive.

Data-pads however, were fairly simple once one understood the basics. It was left in plain view, too. Liara hesitated for a moment to listen for the sound of footsteps on the stair. Nothing. She glided over to the desk and examined the data-pad critically; it was an old model, several years out of date, but she herself had owned one and knew a few of their vulnerabilities.

With a final glance toward the doorway she picked it up, opening an administer-privilege folder and scanning the lines of code there. There had once been a design flaw that would have allowed her to skip the pass-code completely by inputing a system error string, but it seemed someone else had found that hole first and taken pains to ensure it could not be exploited.

"There's nothing on there that would be of interest to you, Dr. T'Soni."

Liara fumbled the pad, heart caught somewhere in her throat. How did she move so quietly? Why had she not heard her on the stair? She had been careless, and that could well cost her more than she was willing to pay.

She cleared her throat and tried to stand tall though every fiber of her being screamed that she should sink in on herself and minimize the target she presented.

"If there is nothing personal, why don't you open it and allow me to be the judge?"

"I didn't say there was nothing personal, only that it wouldn't concern you. Of course, if you think you're prepared to deal with the consequences-"

"Never mind."

Shepard nodded, "Most academic types tend to lack street-sense. It's good to know you're not entirely hopeless."

Liara stalked over to the wall, leaning back against it and folding her arms over her chest defensively. This cursed sheet always felt like it was going to slip from her body at any moment, at least this way she could assure herself it wouldn't.

Shepard mimicked Liara's pose almost perfectly if more comfortably than her companion.

"I don't even know what time it is."

"Does it matter? You don't have anywhere to be."

"It matters." Liara bit off the words peevishly.

"It's evening; nearly six."

That had been far easier than expected; she was caught off-guard at how cavalierly Shepard had proffered the information. Then again, there was no reason why she shouldn't give the time; what could she do with it after all?

Six o'clock of the first day and she was already going crazy, if she had any way of knowing when Shepard intended to set her free or even when she might next breath fresh, sweet outside air it would be a little more bearable, but…

"What are you thinking of?"

Liara glanced up in surprise. Shepard's tone had been surprisingly soft, genuinely curious; why couldn't she have asked that question last night, when everything had seemed so new and exciting? The answer should be obvious now, and she resolved to say as much.

"How long will you keep me here?"

"Until a point is made."

"That humans are every bit as rash and irresponsible as the council assumed? That point was made the moment you took me and I imagine they have come to terms with it by now." Her eyes were prickling in warning once more; that wasn't an image she wanted to present. She wished at times like this she could be a little more like her mother. Benezia was always calm, a steady presence even in the midst of a crisis.

"Word has gone out that the Asari emissary was taken; your people will send a team to liaison with Alliance forces, when I feel they have searched long enough you may go."

"That's very vague. I have no way of knowing if it will be hours, days or even years." This sudden boldness would return to haunt her. One day Shepard would decide her captive's sharp tongue was not so very amusing after all, and then she would come to regret every heated word spoken-if her mother didn't find her first.

That thought dried her tears before they could fall; Benezia had eyes on even some of the remote outposts she had visited on her digs, it was almost certain she had contacts on Earth as well. She would come, and there would be a reckoning.

As much as the thought comforted her, it was upsetting as well; she would prefer to greet her mother at the docks, free and healthy with her captors all safely apprehended. She could be proud of her ingenuity and determination; she could greet her mother with an unburdened mind.

"More than a few hours, I think. Certainly less than years; it will be enough of a trial keeping you for even a few days."

That stung in some way she couldn't quite define. A trial; it should be a compliment, but she felt rather like she had been kicked in the ribs. A trial, a liability. That was exactly what she was going to become, thanks in part to Shepard's insanity.

"And you will keep me up here for all that time."

"I seem to have a case of deja vu… or did we discuss this before?"

"You have done nothing all day, surely you could see your way to arranging for some sort of exercise." Liara braced herself for the innuendo laden remark that was sure to follow, but Shepard seemed pensive instead.

"It's late-"

"It's barely evening." She shrank back from the sparkling intensity of Shepard's glare; even her mother and her acolyte's could not match such a stare for intensity.

"It's late, and I think your time would be better spent here until I've had a chat with my crew about what constitutes proper comportment. Unless you want me to give you free run of the place in no more than the sheets, then you're welcome to leave now, but I won't be dashing to your rescue when you get yourself backed into a corner."

Shepard's eyes widened prettily, she pirouetted smoothly and hurried to the wardrobe, patting her pocket absently as she searched for the key. She pulled it from her pocket and fiddled with the lock in a way Liara could not track, but it looked more complicated than a simple key-lock should be. She flung the doors wide and rummaged through the drawers there almost frantically before finally pulling out a thin red volume bound in what appeared to be cheap recycled paper.

"You're an academic; you should like reading, take it."

"You're literate?" Liara filled the question with as much scorn as she possibly could; part of her truly was surprised, Earth still had only a ninety-three percent literacy rate, so how had a street child learned to read? But then… simply because she was a creature of the streets now did not mean it had always been so. Liara resolved to discover all her secrets while she was here, patiently resurrecting them from the past as carefully as she would any relic. It had nothing to do with any personal fascination; she only wanted to know her enemy she assured herself.

The flash of hurt in Shepard's eyes took her completely off guard; she'd grown used to considering Shepard some all-powerful, unfeeling being in the few hours since she'd regained consciousness. That her feelings could be damaged as easily as anyone else's, more so in fact, was a startling revelation. Liara's eyes burned again, she wasn't this horrible creature Shepard kept pushing her to be, but she was tired and while her fear had been assuaged by Shepard's consideration and her own efforts, she was still very much off-balance. Part of her wanted to recall the words, and another part of her hated that she should even care.

Stockholm syndrome, she decided. An early onset; she would have to be careful about monitoring her behavior, it would make an interesting case-study when she escaped. How long could the inevitable be put off? She pushed that thought aside, holding out a hand to take the book.

"Thank you."

It remained to be seen whether Shepard would surrender the book or not after her snide remark, but evidently she was in a forgiving mood- she pushed the book into the Liara's hands and strode back to her desk and data-pad.

Chair tipped precariously back to balance on two legs, her feet braced against the edge of the desk and data-pad in hand she returned to the business of ignoring her prisoner.

"Will you take me outside?" It wasn't a good time to ask, coming so soon after their clash and Shepard's catching her at her first real escape-reconnaissance mission, she would see right through this ploy.

"I was intending to; tomorrow, when we are both rested. You kick in your sleep, consequently I didn't get much. Sleep, that is."

Shepard had slept in the bed with her? When she lay there bound and helpless and unconscious from whatever trickery her abductor had worked? Her skin crawled at the thought, and though it angered her she could feel her body warm with arousal. For a moment she didn't see Shepard as the enemy that had played her friend to betray her, but imagined her rather as the friend she had first seemed to be. To Liara's mind, they were very nearly two separate people, one who had played a nasty trick on her and would use her to gain whatever victory she thought there was to achieve. The other was the frankly admiring, gently teasing woman who had first knocked on her door.

Liara thought she could have trusted that other Shepard enough to sleep in her arms; would have delighted in uncovering every facet of her and baring it to light. It was all wrong now. All wrong, and once again she felt illogically betrayed. Probably because there were a few times todaywhere she had thought she saw that other Shepard, the one she would have been glad to call friend, the one she would always have felt safe with when in her presence.

Her disappointment made her sharp again, "Will you collar and leash me?"

"Only if you beg me very prettily."

!

!

Damn. Now that the asari had brought it up she couldn't seem to get the idea from her head. She checked to make sure Liara was still seated on the bed, turning the tome over and over in her hands curiously- and what in the hell had possessed her to give the asari anything, let alone that book she would never know- but seeing that she was preoccupied Shepard seized the moment to indulge her newest fantasy.

Liara on her knees in a black lace corset, dark against her pale blue skin. A leather collar would be about her throat, and the leash clutched firmly in Shepard's hand, Liara's own hands bound behind her in silken bonds; white perhaps, to contrast starkly with the darkness of her attire and the veins that ran just below the surface of her smooth wrists.

She would tug at that leash gently, and Liara would tilt her head up to receive her kiss, tasting herself on her lover's tongue, wanting to curl into the heat of her body but continually foiled. Every lace would be undone slowly, every inch of skin worshiped as it was bared, the line between supplicant and worshiped blurring as the kisses grew more heated, and the caresses more fervent. When she finally pushed her down to the floor, tearing holes in her stockings with shredding teeth, Liara would beg her to remove those bonds, to let her touch as she was being touched.

Perhaps she would be merciful- or more likely aching for that herself- and would release her. Or maybe she would ignore those breathy pleas, focused solely on her lover's pleasure, taking her own in those soundless gasps and nearly imperceptible tremors-

"This is my book."

It was like being hit with a bucket of cold water; the dream tendrils evaporated like the morning mist in sunlight, leaving Shepard a little dazed and terribly empty.

"I never thought any copies would make it so far as Earth… when I presented it to the board of archeology on Thessia they seemed to think it lacked any real merit. My theories are unorthodox to say the least, how did you come by this?"

"Same way you think I came by most things, I stole it."

Liara's shoulders slumped, but her expression was still bright with unexpected glee, "What did you think of it?"

"I thought it was fantastic of course; that's why I abducted the author and kept her trapped in my room for a night, just to answer my questions." Part of her desperately wanted to say that, to pay back some of the bitter hurt from that casual insult Liara had thrown in her face, laden with such scorn. Mostly though, she wanted to preserve that vibrant joie-de-vivre.

"You raised more questions than you answered. An interesting read, in theory."

Liara was beaming in a way that made Shepard think these might be rare and precious words indeed, but she must have gained some following else the Alliance would not have contacted her regardless of whatever else she might claim.

And then the light was gone, Shepard could see the moment she remembered her predicament reflected in those china blue eyes, and the shadows came again.

It was too late though, Shepard was determined to see that expression again.

!

!

There wasn't much she could do with a book she had written herself save read it and question every last assertion she had made, but the fact that Shepard had read it was something to consider.

She found herself staring at the same page for ten minutes at a time; she'd never considered the possibility that her abductor could be familiar with her work. Her first thought on finding out really should have been for how it might profit her; she should have wondered whether that could factor into forming a bond with her captor and if that could improve her odds of escape. Instead, she had been unreasonably pleased, elated even, to find that Shepard had not only read the work but had actually lent thought to the theories advanced within.

She'd felt proud; reality had reasserted itself quickly though. Liara wondered if things would have gone differently if Shepard had told her all this last night. Could they have talked and danced together during that interminable affair and maybe withdrawn later for a quiet glass of wine and a more intimate conversation? It would never have happened, Shepard would not have been deterred from her purpose so easily, but it was a pleasant thought to divert her from the present. Seeing the grace in Shepard's movements, the confidence in her stance, Liara regretted they hadn't danced last night before all… this.

Liara recognized that she was spending far too much time dwelling in fantasy, recounting what-ifs and spinning fictions around Shepard. She needed to be focusing more on the tack she intended to take in order to secure her release. It was only the first day, and only just nightfall now, but the sooner she decided on a plan of action the more at ease she would feel.

And when would Shepard finally leave? She had headed back downstairs several times in the past few hours, but never for longer than fifteen minutes and that key stayed frustratingly safe in her pocket. Liara rotated her wrists in the cuffs irritably- not to mention these, while fairly loose in terms of binding she was finding the biotic dampener increasingly bothersome. There was a headache building in the back of her head that might be either a reaction to the technology or a delayed reaction to her stress; either way, she was treading a fine line in terms of temper.

And now she had to use the bathroom; she wasn't about to say a word to Shepard, for all she knew it might be downstairs and the thought of venturing down there in her current get-up was horrifying. She shifted position once more, hoping to relieve some of the pressure on her muscles. This was mortifying, like being an infant all over again with no end in sight.

"Uncomfortable?"

Liara started, dropping the book in her lap. "A little; I've been sitting for most of the day."

Shepard was biting her lip, Liara hadn't considered such a little thing so distracting until now. She unconsciously mirrored the movement, and judging by the smirk on her face, Shepard took note.

Then her eyes widened in something approaching apology, "You haven't been… do you need a bathroom?"

Liara swallowed, she couldn't stop the blush that spread across her cheeks as she nodded.

Shepard jumped to her feet and motioned for her to follow, "It's this way."

"Downstairs?" Liara whispered, her tone had assumed a wavering quality that she couldn't seem to dispel. She didn't want to go back down there, she wasn't ready yet.

"There is one downstairs. There's another up here; I got tired of sharing space so I took care of the problem myself."

Liara sincerely hoped it was something clean and altogether proper; she'd had visions of having to step outside or some other primitive means.

The room they entered wasn't precisely palatial, but it was clean and well-kept. Mercy of mercies there was a small bath-tub in the corner; running water was presumably available, and if she were careful maybe she could even crawl into bed after a hot bath. Assuming there was hot water available and that Shepard would be good enough to spare the use of her tub.

Whether or not she was willing to spare the tub, Shepard did have the grace to step out as Liara attended to her needs; she turned the warm tap with trepidation and giggled delightedly when the water came out hot; she had never considered it to be so great a blessing before. Her experiences were certainly changing her views about a great many things, in good ways and bad.

As she washed she looked around the area for anything that could be turned to her advantage; she didn't have the time to rifle through the single cupboard beneath the sink, but there was nothing in the drawer above she could use- not so much as a stray pair of nail-clippers.

A toothbrush rested beside the sink, she was fairly certain she had once heard a report on the news about a prisoner in Purgatory using one to stab a guard, but she wasn't sure how that would be accomplished or if she could even bring herself to do serious harm to Shepard even now. Best to wait for another opportunity then, especially since she had already been caught once. Her eyes flickered longingly to the tub in the corner, sturdy and utilitarian but doubtless serviceable. It surprised her that she didn't see a shower anywhere, but she wasn't about to complain at her good fortune.

Liara cracked the door open hesitantly to peer through; Shepard was just outside, turned half toward her as she watched the hallway.

She glanced down to Liara's hands and smiled teasingly, "What's this? Not even a pair of nail-clippers stashed away anywhere?"

Liara blanched at the thought that she could be so very predictable, or had she spoken it aloud?

"No need to panic until you've actually tried it. Then I suggest you get out of here as fast as your legs will carry you. I won't be far behind."

She swallowed nervously, "I told you, as long as you keep me from your crew I will not attempt escape."

"Right, I forgot." Sarcasm lay thick on her words.

Liara opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out, one final longing look at the tub. "Do you think…?"

"Do I think…?" Shepard prompted.

"Do you think I could have a bath tonight? I didn't have one yesterday either and I feel dirty."

"Probably has more to do with being stuck in the company of criminal scum than personal hygiene. Still, I think a bath is a wonderful idea."

Liara didn't trust that smile at all.

!

!

Good gods, a bath. Why hadn't she thought of that? Baths were marvelous things, especially when shared with lovely company. Doubtless the good doctor wouldn't care to share the water with her per se, but she didn't need to play a part in order to enjoy the show. She knew the smile she felt spreading across her face would seem vaguely predatory, but it wasn't every day the lamb trotted willingly to the wolf.

Shepard could see the sudden wariness reflected in Liara's expression, one hand fluttered uncertainly at the ties of her sheets as she drew back into the bathroom. Shepard nudged the door open quietly and followed.

"I assumed you were going to stay outside."

"You were wrong; I wouldn't want you to drown yourself in a fit of despair."

Liara snorted, "You flatter yourself. I am not so despondent as that, Shepard."

The sound of her name on those lips sent a bolt of lust straight to her core, but she kept her smile light and teasing; it wouldn't do to throw the game at this juncture.

"Then let's say I don't want you rifling through my things. Ultimately the outcome is the same; you may have a bath on the condition that I remain."

Liara's stance was undecided; her hands were fiddling with that knot again in a way that made Shepard's gut tighten in anticipation. After all she had put the asari through last night and today it would have been far more honorable to show mercy, but she was already facing the fiery inferno- might as well secure herself a place on the executive level. Hell, a few steps farther and she had a decent shot at an administrative position; she was fairly certain there were warnings against corrupting innocents in most of the major religions of the galaxy.

Finally Liara came to a decision, backing toward the tub with her body still half-turned toward Shepard.

"Alright." She murmured.

Straight to hell was the final verdict.

!

!

Liara advanced slowly toward the tub, painfully aware of Shepard's nearness; she could hear the shift of cloth, her soft and rapid breathing echoed loudly in her sensitive ears. She'd already disrobed before Shepard once today and nothing had come of it save her embarrassment and a little shameful satisfaction at the catch in Shepard's breath when she'd seen her bare skin. She hadn't actually stood naked before anyone since she was a very small child, but Shepard's honest appreciation for her form had been flattering if unwelcome. Most unwelcome, she assured herself; she wasn't sure if she had appreciated that vaguely lingering sense of empowerment or not, but helplessness hadn't suited her any better. Of two equal evils it was best to choose one she had never tried before.

She perched on the edge of the tub to open the tap, dabbling her fingers in the water and adjusting the temperature as necessary; she could feel Shepard's gaze on her, raising goose bumps all over. Her stomach fluttered with fear and excitement; she could practically feel the blood pulsing quickly in her veins, and she had to consciously hold her breathing to a steady rate. The water was warm enough; she was stalling now to gather courage for what was to come.

She wondered what Shepard would do if she pulled the sheets into the bath with her and used them to shield as much of herself from her captor's view as possible. Liara dismissed the thought quickly, given some of her other decisions she had no doubt Shepard would force her to wear the wet and thus useless material, maybe even make her sleep in it.

Liara undid the ties slowly, fingers trembling enough to make it a tricky task; her ears resounded with the sudden silence of the chamber, broken only by the soft drip of water.

"I'll help."

"No! I can do it." She plucked at the knots with her nails, loosening them with pain-staking effort; Shepard's hands covered hers, and strangely the tremors stilled. She could feel the capable strength in those hands and prayed it would not be used against her.

"The sooner you have the knots undone the sooner you may bathe, and the sooner you finish your bath the faster you will be back in your… gown."

"It's tangled; I'll only take a moment longer."

"You're too high-strung. There's no need, if I had intended to hurt you I would have done it a long time ago."

"I'm sorry that I spent the past fifty years or so doing valid research instead of learning a proper strip-tease! You are forcing me to liberties I haven't willingly given ano… never mind, I don't know why I am justifying myself to you." Liara snapped.

Shepard's breath shuddered through her teeth, as cliché as it sounded, she was beautiful when she was angry; her skin flushed to a darker violet color and those lovely blue eyes were nearly swallowed up by her pupils, lips shining from her attempt to moisten them in her nervousness.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're forgetting, I've already seen you once, what does once more matter? You're stunning."

"It matters." Liara hissed, "but get this off me and let's have it done."

Shepard pulled away, "Go ahead. Take your time." She thought she might have caught a flash of disappointment on Liara's face, or maybe that was only wishful thinking. Regardless, when her fingers attacked the knot once more she was far steadier.

The fabric reluctantly unwound from her form, conjuring images of Liara rising from her bed, heavy-lidded and lithely graceful, sheets pooling at her hips… she could sympathize with the cloth, if it had been her wrapped about Liara's body like that, she too would have been reluctant to surrender the pleasure.

Liara stepped quickly into the tub, arms crossing protectively over her chest as much as the cuffs would allow, which, disappointingly enough, was quite a bit. Shepard traced the line of her back with hungry eyes, the smooth dip and curve, the dimples where her back met her ass. It took her a second to realize she had stopped breathing and she made a concerted effort to start again.

It wasn't easy, not when her mind's eye was filled with images of stepping forward and running a nail from the base of her spine to her neck, pressing her hips into that shapely ass when Liara shuddered and arched away from the soft sting of her nail on sensitive flesh. She would press her lips to that freckle on Liara's shoulder blade, one of a trio that formed the shape of a triangle; she would trace that shape with her tongue, blowing cool air so that Liara would shiver, turning in her arms, peaked nipples pressing into her temptingly.

Liara would tilt her head up, lust-darkened eyes meeting her own shadowed green. She would…

Dwell in fantasy and completely neglect the reality it seemed. And that would indeed be a shame.

She tried to maintain a blank expression, something nearing professionalism; some tattered scrap of conscience whispered that she really was pushing her captive unnecessarily hard, and that some concessions would have to be made for her peace of mind. She didn't want to break the asari; it was just that she had been surprised to find such an engaging adversary hidden beneath the shy scholar, and she was curious to find out how far that boldness ran. She didn't think Liara would be one to break this easily, each challenge only seemed to make her braver in fact; Shepard was puzzled by the peculiar feeling of pride that brought her. She'd had no hand in it.

Liara had sunk down deep beneath the lip of the tub, but watching the movement of her shoulders Shepard could guess that she was smoothing the soap over the smooth expanse of her chest and over the curves of her breasts; she wondered at the asari's shyness. Given the Asari reputation she had expected something of a temptress, but it seemed to her that all of Liara's actions were unconsciously seductive, unintentionally eye-catching. Misgivings arose once again but Shepard dismissed them; there was no way her vague suspicions could be true. Besides, there were more important things to think on.

The look on Liara's face was pure bliss; her eyes had darkened still further, eyes dropping until her lashes brushed softly against her cheek, her skin turned darker with the warmth of the water and her motions grew languid, increasingly sensuous. Shepard felt a blush of heat rising in her cheeks, disappointed anew that there would be no sharing this bath. She could picture Liara lying in her arms just like that, draped over her arm with her breasts pushed up by her position, her head resting on the pillow and hands gliding down Shepard's shoulders to her back…

Liara lifted her leg and Shepard hissed at the sight of a shapely calf, the play of muscles beneath skin emphasized by the sheen of soap and water; her hand stroked down her calf and back up again, sliding out of view as she moved higher up her thigh. Shepard's thoughts veered sharply off course once more, wondering if perhaps she made just those movements when she touched herself in need; fingertips ghosting up the outside of her thighs, muscles tensing beneath her touch. Perhaps she would scrape her nails just on that tender skin on her inner thigh, rising still harder. She'd hesitate before she garnered the will to glide those slim fingers over her center, finding her nub and stroking tentatively, hips arching unconsciously into her touch.

Liara was peering over the edge of the tub at her, one hand prepared to lever herself out.

"I don't suppose you're going to look away while I climb out?"

Shepard lifted an eyebrow mockingly, and Liara sighed in disappointment, that blush returning once more.

"I thought I would ask on the chance that you had decided my torment had been sufficient for today."

She rose quickly, glistening in the soft light; one hand reached out to grab for balance as she lifted one leg out of the tub and then the other, bared entirely to Shepard's view for the first time.

She was breath-taking. The cool air had caused goose bumps to rise all over her, those dusky nipples were taut and Shepard wanted nothing more than to strip and push her back into that water, lavishing attention on them. Shepard's gaze drifted lower, taking in the neat tuck of her hips, the small bump of her belly and… so it was true what they said about Asari. Whispered jokes of "azure" and "deeper blue" floated back to her, somehow that seemed unbearably erotic to her now. That dark smooth flesh was too much to ignore, though she could see Liara visibly fighting the urge to cover herself.

"Do you have a towel?" Her voice was hoarse, but it sent tingles up Shepard's spine; a prickle of awareness that spread through her being. It took her a moment to register her actual words, and then she hurried to the cupboard and pulled out an old gray one, throwing it to Liara unceremoniously. Liara snatched it from the air with praise-worthy dexterity to rub herself down as vigorously and as business-like as she could manage. Shepard could understand her logic, but she had failed to account for the intriguing ways it made her body move. She snatched the sheet again, doing it up with considerably more skill this time and looked expectantly to Shepard.

"Thank you." She looked around once more, "I suppose I am ready to go back now."

As she reached for the plug, Shepard found her voice, "Don't. It's my turn; we run on reserves, I won't waste an opportunity."

That look of uncertainty mingled with unwilling eagerness would almost certainly remain with her for years to come.