Author's Note:
I want to thank those who read, Fav'd and/or Reviewed this tale! Your interest in this story and the feedback you provide are very much appreciated. Thanks again!

And, as always, a big round of applause to Lyaksandra, my beta-reader. Your input and sage advice are – and always have been – invaluable.

Chapter 16

Unable to contain her excessive energy, Lakota paced at the head of the large oblong table, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Although her outfit was casual, faded blue jeans and a form fitting scoop neck black t-shirt, her black military boots made a distinct clunking sound with each footfall, adding to the heavy, tenebrous ambiance of the moment. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to the others in the room who had been watching her intently. "What can you tell me about Eletania?" she asked, addressing the four familiar faces seated around the table, a stoic determination embedded in her voice.

"Eletania?" Garrus leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms as if showcasing his disbelief. It was unusual to see him in anything but his blue and grey armor, but today he was wearing civilian clothes: black pants with a matching jacket and a grey shirt underneath. He looked exceptionally, if not surprisingly, stylish. "You're kidding, right?"

"Shepard, that planet is toxic!" Tali blurted out as unexpected memories of the planet's surface made her fidget in the chair. Although she knew the Spectre likely recalled the lethal atmosphere, the Quarian still felt compelled to vocalize the fact. For clarification purposes if nothing else because there were others in the room who were not as intimately familiar with its hazardous nature.

Garrus turned to his left, looking directly at the Quarian who was in the chair beside him. His mandibles twitched at the mere mention of the planet's environment. "Forget toxic, it's full of space monkeys!"

"Pyjaks, Garrus?" Liara scoffed in amusement. She was seated across the table from the former vigilante, sipping on a mug of herbal tea. Dressed in a sleek off-white pantsuit and tan camisole, she exhibited an air of chic and classic beauty. "That's your most relevant fact?"

"Space monkeys, Liara." the Turian corrected. "And yes, they fiddle with things. You weren't there, so you didn't experience the inconvenient and less than entertaining aggravation of one of them running off with the 'very important' data module we were looking for. Took us the whole damn day to find it and even then it was coated with… monkey goo."

Lakota grinned, remembering the ordeal. "Monkey goo? That's one word for it."

"Nobody wants to admit to having cleaned excrement off of a data mod before being able to use it."

"You didn't clean it, Vakarian, I did," Tali stated hotly. Although you couldn't see the face behind the visor, the Quarian's voice gave the distinct impression that she was wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"True, but I was there for moral support."

"You were trying not to vomit."

"But I was right at your side."

"Making those noises which made me want to vomit!" Tali snapped in exasperation. "Vomiting in an environmental suit is not apleasant experience! And even with the triple filtration process and ultraviolet disinfection, it takes days to get the smell out!"

"Hey," Garrus said playfully, "I was in one, too… remember?"

The Quarian shook her head, the lower modulation of her voice expressing the mild annoyance her visor shielded. "You don't live in your suit….it's not the same thing…"

"A Prothean ruin is located there," Liara said, diverting attention from the spirited banter. "Along with scavengers and mercenaries."

"Why would mercenaries be interested in a toxic planet?" Miranda asked, reclining back in her chair and stretching her legs in the process. She had been silently watching the conversation from her perch at the end of the table opposite of the Spectre. Her attire matched the rest of the group in the fact that it was casual, with no allegiance to any military or privately funded group, but in skintight black leather pants, black knee-high boots and a short sleeved button down black shirt, she stood out from the rest in the attitude her outfit naturally exuded: sassy with a pinch of sophisticated.

"It's not the planet that is significant. It's the promise of Prothean artifacts." Liara pursed her lips as though having tasted something sour, then continued to recite what she knew of galactic events. "Since the Reapers and their threat of annihilation became public knowledge, various mercenary groups have been attempting to capitalize on people's fears and government's growing desperation. They have been utilizing their legal and illegal activities to acquire anything related to Protheans and then have been selling them to the highest bidder as the means to salvation."

"But that's ridiculous! Mercenaries selling salvation? How can they do that?" Tali asked, clearly surprised by the information. "And who would be stupid enough to believe them?"

Garrus shrugged his shoulders, knowing the answer was as simple as it was sad. "People were desperate—the end was coming—and they wanted to survive any way they could."

"But how could a government trust a gang of mercenaries?" Tali said incredulously. "These are groups that have only their own welfare in mind, they are not known for their compassion. Or their interest in galactic affairs."

"There's a human proverb that says, desperate times call for desperate measures," Lakota informed soberly before sitting down in the chair at the head of the table.

Miranda nodded her head in agreement. "In adverse conditions, actions that might be rejected under one set of circumstances may become the best choice in the current. It's something I think we're all familiar with."

"All too familiar," Lakota thought bitterly as a heavy sigh escaped her lips. To steer the conversation away from a philosophical direction, she asked, "What else is there to know about the planet?"

Garrus swiveled his chair until he was facing the Spectre. "Why are you interested in going there?"

Lakota glanced at Liara, giving her a quick somewhat pensive look. They both knew the question would be asked eventually, it was inevitable, so they had agreed on a cover-story which told as much of the truth as they could without involving their shared dream. For the moment, they both concurred that any knowledge revolving around the dream would deter from the true objective: getting to Eletania. If any Alliance personnel or Miranda knew of Lakota's dreams or "the voice" in her dreams, they may try to confine her to private quarters or at the very least, attempt to keep her from leaving Earth so she could be monitored more closely. That was unacceptable. Until they knew more about the dream voice and how, if at all, it related to the Spectre's mental and physical health, they decided to stay mum on the subject.

Leaning back in her chair, her fingertips tapping restlessly on the tabletop, Lakota answered Garrus' question. "The Alliance and every sentient being in the universe want to know what really happened when the Citadel and Catalyst interacted. This is where all the clues are pointing."

"And where did the clues come from?"

Lakota hesitated. She didn't want to lie to the Turian, their deep bond of friendship and camaraderie deserved more respect than that, but with Miranda in the room, she would if she had to. Finally, she offered, "It's… complicated."

Sensing her reluctance to go into specific details, Garrus said, "And classified?"

"That too," the Spectre replied, quietly sighing in relief. Apparently their bond included a little mind-reading, as well.

"Yeah, that figures." Clearing his throat, Garrus added, "Well, there's not much there except for those pesky, module stealing rodents and the Prothean ruins. I'm going go out on a limb and guess that chasing around monkeys and sifting through their excrement , which I'm sure Tali enjoyed immensely the first time, isn't going to solve the puzzle."

"Didn't you have some sort of vision at those ruins?" Miranda asked. The Normandy SR-1 had visited the planet while hunting down Saren Arterius, rogue Spectre of the Citadel Council, which was two years before the Cerberus Officer and Spectre worked together.

"She did," Tali said. "At the ruins we found a floating sphere with an odd shaped slot on its underside. Shepard, by some weird coincidence, had a small trinket and somehow it fit perfectly."

"If memory serves," Liara said pointedly, "you mentioned that the Consort gave you the trinket." Her blue eyes flashed in delight, knowing that this subject matter which during the early stages of their relationship made her lover uncomfortable would now make her squirm.

The Spectre cleared her throat self-consciously. "Um… yeah."

"The Consort?" Miranda said with a mixture of amusement and curiosity laced in her voice. "That sounds intriguing."

"It's not," Lakota said, sounding a bit snappish and hoping to end this particular topic of conversation.

After glancing over at Liara and seeing her entertained expression, the former Cerberus Officer pressed forward. "I heard it takes months so see her."

"Not if you're Commander Shepard, first human Spectre," Tali offered.

Adding to the good-natured teasing, Garrus said, "Or if you do a favor for the Consort."

"A favor?" Miranda smirked conspiratorially. Lacing her words with heavy tones of sexual innuendo, she asked, "And did you get… a favor in return?"

"This is not relevant," the Spectre growled.

"On the contrary," Liara said, "if the Prothean ruin is our objective, then everything revolving around it is important." A small, playful smile curled at the corner of her lips.

Rolling her eyes, Lakota huffed loudly, clearly displaying her dislike for the new direction the conversation had taken. "Fine. Here's what happened. Sha'ira-"

"Oh, you two are on a first name basis!" Tali interrupted excitedly.

Lakota silently glared at the Quarian. "As I was saying, the Asari Consort, Sha'ira, contacted me. She was having an issue with a friend, and asked me to talk with him on her behalf, but like all personal matters, it was more complicated than a simple chat. Once the issue was resolved, though, she gave me some creds and the trinket."

"She also gave you some words of advice," Liara said innocently.

Lakota turned her glare toward the Asari. "Yes," she grumbled.

Impish blue eyes, bright and unflinching, met green. "And offered a favor in return."

Sighing in exasperation, the Spectre reluctantly admitted. "Yes."

"That's about the time we were kicked out of the Consort's chamber," Garrus said.

Tali turned toward Miranda, her inflection full of merriment. "We didn't see Shepard until the next day."

As heat and a rosy hue blossomed on her cheeks, Lakota's head fell into both palms of her hands. "Can we talk about something else now?"

Taking pity on her lover, Liara asked, "What happened with the trinket and the Prothean sphere?" In truth, the researcher was ready for the change of subject, as well. Although she had come to terms with Lakota's past dalliances long ago, she wasn't wholly comfortable with others teasing her lover about them in her presence.

"When the two pieces connected, there was a flash of light and Shepard toppled over." Tali's visor turned to the Spectre, talking to her directly. "You were unresponsive for a couple of minutes. Garrus and I thought you were dead."

"Yeah, I remember. I thought I had died, too," Lakota said sardonically, "But then I opened my eyes and saw Garrus hovering over me, waving his arms and ranting about assassinations and space monkeys. At that moment, I realized I had either gone to hell… or god had become a ranting Turian. Turns out I was wrong on both counts."

Garrus' hand went to his chest as though covering up a mortal injury. "You wound me, Shepard."

"Only on the good days, Vakarian."

"Did you actually have a vision or just images of an ascended Turian?" Miranda asked dryly, returning the conversation to its original subject matter.

"I was given the memories of an early humanoid, a Cro-Magnon hunter, who was captured and implanted with a Prothean data recorder." The Spectre's hand went to the back of her skull half-expecting to feel a strange lump. "No telling how long they monitored Earth."

Liara straightened in her chair, warming to the conversation about the race she had dedicated her life to investigating. "Protheans had been studying primitive humans for decades, observing them and analyzing the results at their base on Mars. I discovered some references to their experiments while at the Mars archive." Frowning in disappointment, she added, "I didn't have any time to investigate the finding though. All of my research was devoted to discovering as much as I could about the Catalyst."

"What do you think you'll find at the ruins that you didn't find the first time?" Garrus asked.

"I don't know," the Spectre admitted.

"Shepard," Tali said, her voice soft and hesitant, "if mercenaries have already been scavenging, do you think anything's left?"

Lakota let out a sigh of frustration. "I don't know."

"But you feel the risk is worth it?" Miranda asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Absolutely. There are answers in those ruins…" The Spectre's words tapered off as her mind tried to grapple with a thought that remained elusive. It was something she felt she should remember, but for some reason couldn't recall. "I can't fully explain it, it's more of a gut instinct, but I know I have to go there."

"Environmental suits and equipment have improved dramatically over the last few years," Tali stated, her mind already working on the logistics of filter and containment enhancements. "With a few well-placed requests, I can have the necessary parts to upgrade weapons and armor within two days. Being on the Admiralty Board has its perks."

Miranda activated her omni-tool, making a few quick keystrokes. "I can get the proper clearance through the Sol Relay and have the flight plan pre-approved. I'll just need to know what ship we'll be using."

The Normandy was part of the Alliance fleet and manned by Alliance personnel. Although the Spectre was still technically an Alliance officer and was technically still the Commander of the ship, this mission was not sanctioned by the Alliance brass, therefore fell outside the scope of official business. As such, the Normandy was not an asset they could use.

Garrus tilted his head, his eyes unfocused as though in quiet contemplation. After a few moments, he said, "I'm owed a few favors. I can get us a ship. It won't be as high tech or fast as the Normandy, but it will get us where we need to go."

"Wait a minute," Lakota said, raising her hand to halt the conversation. "I'm just asking for information, not for you to-"

"Shepard," Tali said, purposely interrupting the Spectre, "do you really think we're going to let you go off by yourself and hound all the glory again?"

Miranda arched a challenging eyebrow. "All that time and energy I spent putting you back together and keeping you healthy… I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know you're back to peak efficiency. And even then I might keep you on a short leash."

Icy blue eyes met the Spectre's in a silent battle of wills, but the struggle didn't last long. Lakota was still uncertain about all of the changes going on in her body—her cybernetics failing, her DNA's adaptation to that change, the voice in her dreams—and having Miranda along to monitor her physical well-being would ease some stress. Not just for herself, but for Liara, as well. Even though the researcher was weathering all of the changes and obstacles with grace, Lakota knew they were taking their emotional and mental toll. Having someone else on board the ship who knew the whole situation and who could be counted on as a sounding board would be a tremendous boon. Whether used or not, just knowing there was another person to talk with would be of great comfort.

With a barely perceptible tilt of her head, Lakota quietly acquiesced to Miranda's adamant demand.

"Face it, Shepard, you're stuck with us." Garrus chuckled warmly. "Besides, I'm bored. You remember what happened last time I got bored, don't you?"

As she leaned back into her chair, Lakota crossed her arms and sighed dramatically. "Yeah, you went off to Omega and became a brooding vigilante with a stick up his ass who was hell bent on taking down as many criminals as he could."

"I was just misunderstood."

"Garrus," the Spectre said, shaking her head ruefully, "you managed to piss off three rival mercenary groups who, in an unprecedented move, created a temporary alliance to hunt you down. I think they understood you just fine."

Grinning smugly, Garrus said, "Well then, for my own safety, you need to take me with you."

"And without me, who will fix your ship? Or upgrade your suits?" Tali's words were full of sound reasoning and logical deduction, her tone, on the other hand, was full of mischief and mirth.

Lakota's brow furrowed unhappily. "That's blackmail."

"Actually," the Turian corrected, "it's extortion. And I approve." He raised his left hand to the Quarian who smacked the open palm with her right, a Turian-Quarian version of the human "high-five", but in this case it was considered a "high-three."

"Fine, fine. If you want to give me another opportunity to save your asses, who am I to say no?" the Spectre quipped sarcastically, an impish gleam flashing in her eyes. She had spent enough time with those around the table to know there would be no denying them once they set their mind on going with her. Because the issue was personal, she would never ask for their help directly—not on her own behalf—but she suspected they already knew that quirk about her, thus forcibly invited themselves on the mission. She felt fortunate to have such tenacious friends.

"Here is the information I have gathered on Eletania," Liara said as she smiled to herself, grateful for the support that their friends offered freely. From her omni-tool appeared a large holographic image of the planet and space surrounding it which was projected over the center of the table. "This is the most up to date intel on the system."

Lakota had long ago stopped asking how Liara amassed classified information. As the most powerful information agent in the known galaxy, little escaped her lover's notice and it seemed nothing was out of her network's ability to acquire. She was just glad the Asari was on her side.

The image above the table showed the planes, peaks and valleys of the planet's surface—mountain ranges, continents, bodies of water, and even the unnatural sites such as the location of the Prothean ruins. There were a few modern structures on the planet's surface, but what caught the Spectre's immediate attention were the dots hovering in space. They could only be one thing: ships.

Pointing toward a small cluster of dots, Lakota asked, "Do we know whose ship's those are?"

Liara's fingers danced gracefully across her omni-tool's holographic interface until she found what she was looking for. Every ship constructed had a unique identification number which was registered by the manufacturer and then was used to track its purchase, maintenance and registration history. "None of them can be identified."

The Spectre's eyes meticulously examined every nuance displayed by the map. "Which probably means they have all been stolen and their identifying markers scrubbed."

"So," Garrus said soberly, "mercenaries."

"Or smugglers," Tali offered.

To cover all possibilities, Miranda added, "Or government black ops."

"Doesn't matter," Lakota countered. "The ships are too wide spread around the planet. We're not getting by them without some type of altercation. Unless…"

"Unless?" Liara asked, already knowing the answer.

"Unless we have a ship and shuttle that are equipped with stealth drives."

Miranda leaned forward in her chair, bracing her forearms on the table. "So we talk to Anderson…"

Nodding, Lakota confirmed, "That would be Plan A."

The former Cerberus Officer was almost afraid to ask her next question. "And what is Plan B?"

"We steal the Normandy."

…

The sun rose in the eastern skyline, heralding a new day by casting the brilliant hues of early morning light across the tranquil waters of Wellington bay. The calm surface, reminiscent of glass, reflected perfect mirror images of the various boats docked in the harbor or secured to mooring buoys, each in its own way nestled in the protective arms of the cove. As the sun's beams pierced the protective glass of the penthouse suite, they scattered across the white sheets and cotton blanket jumbled together on the king-sized bed. The rays not only brought illumination but also warmth, which eventually stirred the form beneath the chaotic mess of fabric.

Still floating in a lethargic dream-haze, Liara yawned and lazily burrowed her face into the silken fabric caressing her skin. Fighting the tendrils of reality marshaling to bring her consciousness to the surface, she pulled the pillow to her chest, snuggling her bare form further into luxurious softness. She breathed in deeply, catching the intoxicating fragrance of her lover—light sandalwood mixed with a hint of sage—still lingering in the fabric, and then slowly exhaled. A contented smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Without opening her eyes, she knew that Lakota was no longer in bed, and after running her hand along the bed sheets, she knew her lover had been absent long enough for the sheets to become cold. Frowning, she rolled over onto her back, then slowly opened her eyes allowing them time to become adjusted to the harsh brightness. Then, as a protective measure, she pinched her forearm. The sharp sting helped confirm that she was truly awake and her perceptions were bound in reality. As her head sank further into the pillow, a rueful sigh escaped her lips and she wondered how long it would take before she would wake without questioning if she was still in a dream. She suspected that it would be a long while.

When the last haze of sleep faded away, she sat up and her gaze was immediately drawn out to the balcony where a familiar solitary figure stood.

Naked, Liara slipped out of bed, grabbed the top blanket then wrapped it around her before stepping through threshold and out into the balcony. The morning air, brisk enough to bring a slight chill to her skin even beneath the blanket, carried the smell of salty air and the subtle sounds of gulls as they fended for their first meal of the day. With a lazy stride, she padded towards Lakota who stood next to the balcony, her hands braced on the rail, watching the splendor of the early morning sunshine diffuse the thin mist while it hovered like grey smoke over the placid water.

The Spectre was wearing a long navy blue tank top that dipped just below her hips, but allowed strong, shapely legs to show freely. At the sight of her lover's relaxed pose, Liara's breath caught in her throat. Before her stood an alluring vision, and when the dark haired woman's head turned toward her with inquisitive green eyes sparkling in the first rays of sunlight, she saw the one face that made her heart stop and stutter forward again, tripping over itself to beat in triple time.

Smiling softly, Liara stepped behind the Spectre, enveloping her into the warmth of a loving embrace, blanket and all. She shivered against the cool temperature of her lover's skin but ignored it, snuggling her blue form tightly against the human's until she noted that the chill had finally begun to recede.

"Can't sleep?" she whispered.

Beneath the blanket, Lakota's hands reached behind wrapping around the Asari's waist, holding her close, enjoying the cocooned warmth being provided. "No. My mind is too wound up."

"What are you thinking about?"

The Spectre chuckled. "Growing up on Earth."

The researcher placed a soft kiss on the Spectre's shoulder before pressing her cheek on the smooth tanned skin. "And?"

"Did I ever tell you that I hated it here?"

Somewhat surprised by the statement, Liara replied, "No, you didn't."

"I wanted off this planet the very moment I knew it was a possibility. Every night I'd stare up into the sky and wonder what it was like up there, exploring uncharted areas of space, seeing new worlds for the first time. Obviously, that's not quite how things are in the Alliance, it's not that romantic, but as a kid, I thought I would be free in space." Lakota's head dropped to her chest. "No more fear of being raped, or of starving, or being murdered while I slept."

Liara brows furrowed as she thought of the disparities between her safe, affluent upbringing and her lover's impoverished one. "Was it always like that?"

"Even after I joined the Reds, those fears were part of my daily life," the Spectre replied, her voice low in resignation. "Manten la boca cerrada. Los ojos abiertos. Esta siempre lista para correr y nunca te quedes en un solo lugar mucho tiempo." She raised her head, looking out on the awakening seascape. "It means: Keep your mouth shut. Keep your eyes open. Be quick on your feet and never stay in one place too long. Those rules saved me more times than I can count, they were my mantra. Things did get better when I became a lieutenant for the Reds. People respected me. The stars still represented freedom, but the older I got, the further away that freedom seemed… until eventually I no longer looked up."

"Do you feel free now?"

"Freedom is relative," Lakota said automatically. Then she took a deep breath, giving the question some more thought. "I suppose I feel freer now than I ever have before. Though, being on a ship, sailing through space really is the ultimate freedom for me."

"I'm sure," Liara said as she tightened her embrace. "Always moving. Never in one place too long. From what you've mentioned of your childhood, it would provide the most fundamental sense of safety."

Lakota nodded her head in agreement.

"And by being invisible, keeping silent, you learned to observe your surroundings which in turn added to your ability to read people and understanding their body language." The researcher had always been amazed by the Spectre's ability to gauge a situation and anticipate people's reactions.

"I learned the hard way that it was a necessary skill to have if I wanted to survive."

Lakota's lesson had been delivered harshly and at an early age, but she only had to experience it once for the importance to sink in. As a child she earned meager pittances by running stray errands whenever and for whomever she could. One unremarkable day, she had gone to the liquor store for an older woman, but when she returned with the bottle instead of getting paid she was beaten for being too slow. She had been caught unaware. She hadn't anticipated that reaction which left her with a bruised and battered body and unable to hustle for food. Because of her lack of perception, she had gone hungry for three days before she was well enough to steal a loaf of bread. From that experience, she began learning to read people's eyes, their body movements, their mouths, the wrinkles in their face and intuit their actions. She spent time every day simply watching people in their daily comings and goings which taught her a great deal about people's habits, mannerisms, interactions, and personalities.

"You know, it took me a long time to trust Tali," Lakota admitted, her voice barely above a murmur.

"It did?"

"Because I can't see her face." The Spectre sighed, shaking her head slightly. She knew it was irrational, but there was little she could do about it. She had spent the better part of her life measuring people's behavior by the slightest facial tics. "Obviously, I trust her now, but if I am honest, there will always be a small part of me that's uneasy around her, any Quarian really, because of their suits."

"That makes sense." Liara placed a tender kiss on the back of her lover's neck before salaciously whispering, "But that capacity to read people and anticipate them is also why you're so good at what you do and why you've been so instrumental in helping others. We've all relied on your ability to get things done over the years."

Lakota leaned into the asari's paradoxical embrace—one that was both comforting and stirring—and then sighed heavily. "Sometimes it's hard to be needed that much, Liara."

The researcher slipped around her lover's right side so they were face to face, never disengaging her hold or releasing the cocoon of the blanket that surrounded them. Pressing tightly into her lover's frame, the scientist's face nuzzled Lakota's neck, breathing in her exquisite scent. "I need you," she said simply. "I always will."

The Spectre smiled faintly. "I'm glad about that." Then she tightened her arms around the Asari's waist, pulling their bodies closer together. "That isn't quite what I meant though. When so many people rely on you all the time, it can become difficult to live up to the expectations you've set for yourself. There have been times when I just wanted to... let it all go."

Liara leaned back and gazed into those pale green eyes that continued to both intrigue and mesmerize her. "I would be surprised if you didn't feel that way sometimes."

"What do you think we can handle?" Lakota asked impulsively, her expression thoughtful and inquisitive. "You and me, together."

Without any hesitation, the researcher said, "Anything. Everything."

The Spectre frowned briefly, as though disbelieving the comment. "You sound so confident."

"I am." Liara leaned forward and kissed her gently.

"How can you be so sure?" the Spectre murmured, her heart rate accelerating while Liara continued to press their bodies together. As their legs intertwined, the bare skin on skin contact of their lower extremities sent tingles up Lakota's spine.

"I know you." Liara punctuated the statement by kissing her lover's right cheek. "All of you." Then she kissed her left cheek. "And I know what you are capable of." To finalize her pronouncement, Liara leaned in and tenderly brushed her lips upon Lakota's. Pressing in to deepen the kiss, she was rewarded with the human's lips parting and the feel of her silken tongue making contact.

Neither felt the need to rush the tantalizing endearment. Instead they basked in the feel of moist lips exploring each other, sinking into the hypnotic give and take of their affection. Intrepid hands grazed along sensual curves and seductive valleys as fingertips roused pliant flesh to hardened peaks. Theirs was a slow and steady rise of arousal, a journey which electrified every nerve ending and casually stoked the primal fire within.

Lakota pulled away, inhaling sharply. "Well, then, that settles it. Nothing can stand in our way."

"Precisely." Liara's breathing was heavy and deep. "And now that we've settled that debate, it's time we head back to bed."

"Bed?" the Spectre scoffed playfully, contemplating her lover with impish, admiring eyes. "It's a little late, don't you thing?"

"You're not meeting Admiral Anderson until this afternoon. There's still plenty of time."

"Oh? Time for what, Doctor?"

Liara's lustful gaze locked onto her lovers'. "Commander, I believe Ms. Lawson recommended that you exercise daily."

"She did."

"But she didn't specify what form that exercise should take." A mischievous smile graced the Asari's lips when she saw her own longing reflected in the blazing green eyes staring back at her.

"True," the Spectre confirmed, her voice low and husky. "She didn't."

"Then I think it's time you take me back to bed. We can explore the various methods of exercise that would be most beneficial to improve your health."

Lakota held her lover's fixed stare, delving into the intense blue eyes, deep and dark as the ocean's depths. "An excellent idea, Doctor. Why didn't I think of that?"

"You're not a Prothean expert."

"True. But I'm a quick study."

"Prove it, Commander," Liara challenged seductively.

"Oh no," Lakota murmured, "you're the expert. You prove it."

And Liara did. Many times.