Chapter 19

Lakota's eyes canvassed the bleak, dismal scene. In front of her was the unmitigated desolation of a city once filled with splendor and beauty, but now utterly forgotten, its history and legacy ravaged by the perfectly ruthless pathogen of war. Ominous dark clouds of soot and ash filled the blood-red sky, obscuring what remained of the alien architecture while the oppressive swirling haze crept along the broken landscape, a remnant of the death and destruction that had been visited upon this world. Eventually, the eerie, haunted shapes simply vanished within the mist. Noxious winds coiled long plumes of drifting smoke forming paradoxically innocent shapes, and as though foreshadowing the inescapable removal of the city from the annals of time, they leisurely faded away to an ethereal nothingness. The heaviness of decay was everywhere, and the fetid residue from a cataclysmic battle that raged for untold ages could be seen in every direction. Nothing had escaped the devastation of war. Nothing withstood its uncompromising onslaught.

She stood on the hillside overlooking the ruined wasteland, a solitary figure, the sole witness to what had gone before. Unwavering and unforgiving, the forlorn darkness continued to descend and brought with it a sinister, biting cold that threatened to overwhelm all of her senses. She didn't recognize the city or planet, but she had seen such buildings before in the visions given from the beacon on Eden Prime. The architecture was unmistakably Prothean.

As the Spectre recalled and compared the bleak images from the beacon with the scene before her now, she realized that each one of her dreams, or nightmares in some instances, over the past few weeks had an all too familiar alien influence. Whether obvious or subtle, she knew they were of Prothean design. But why did she recognize them now and why the repeated images of chaos and destruction? The beacon on Eden Prime had been a signaling device, an early alert system to warn and inform future ages of the eventual Reaper invasion. The Reapers had been defeated, though, so why the continued bombardment of apocalyptic visions? Were these images residual effects from the beacon? Were they somehow triggered by the Catalyst? And why was she aware of the Prothean influence now? The architecture was distinct and easily distinguishable from any modern designs of the current age, so why hadn't she put the pieces of the puzzle together sooner? Had something hindered her from making the obvious connection?

Suddenly, all sounds around her were lost as a slow poignant thought crept across her mind, a new awareness sprouting within her perception of all that had gone on before and was occurring now. Something had definitely changed. Something was definitely different. This was the first time that she was alone and "awake" in her own dream.

When the dreams first started to occur, after being pulled from the rubble on Earth, she was a silent spectator watching as nameless worlds were destroyed and unknown races were systematically annihilated. This happened again and again until the fortuitous occasion when Liara somehow entered her dream and woke her up. It was at that moment that her role within her own dreams evolved. She became an active participant. She became a lucid dreamer.

As that realization began to settle within her being, a somewhat familiar prickling sensation scratched at that back of her head, immediately followed by a brief chill that danced eerily down her spine. Somebody or something was near.

"I can feel you," Lakota said, her voice raised slightly as though addressing a large group. "You linger at the edge of my awareness, but I know you're here."

From the corner of her eye she saw a slow moving miasma of darkness quietly take shape near the city's debris and then glide like a snake over the ruined landscape heading in her direction. She watched in fascination as it stopped a few feet in front of her, pooling rapidly while gathering density and breadth. Briefly, in the far reaches of her mind, she registered that her interest in this new development overrode any instinctual concern she would normally have felt. Finally, when the storm of swirling tendrils faded away and a bipedal shape became discernible, she found herself remarkably unfazed by its form.

"I am always here," the newcomer stated, "… and have always been."

The low voice had a unique inflection, an accent that matched perfectly to its appearance. "You're a Prothean?" she said.

Since Javik was the only living Prothean she had ever met, Lakota automatically started noting the similarities and differences between him and the figure before her. Both had two pairs of eyes, with each eye possessing dual pupils, and three pairs of nostrils. Their heads were covered in a thick, layered carapace which gave them a distinctive almost triangular shape, but while the skin surrounding this carapace on Javik was a pale blue-gray color mottled with muted yellow spots, on the figure in front of her, the skin was dark grey with pale white spots. Both were taller than her by a few inches, but she thought Javik edged the other out by a small margin. Their hands had three fingers, their feet had two widely-spaced toes and although the armor they wore was similar in shape, the new Prothean's protective gear had a dark green, almost blackish hue while Javik's was a deep burgundy.

As though acknowledging both the Spectre's scrutiny and question, the Prothean nodded its head slightly. "I am as how you would see me."

Surprised by its generally hospitable reply and demeanor, Lakota said, "What? No more hostilities? No more threats?"

"No need exists."

It took only a moment for her to decipher the deeper significance to the Prothean's words. Then, pale green eyes narrowed dangerously as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And by that you mean that Liara isn't here. Is it her specifically or would any Asari do? Anyone sharing my consciousness."

"You ask questions to which you already know the answer," the Prothean said haughtily. "You would be better served to ask that which you do not know."

"Fine," Lakota barked sharply as a strong protective urge swept through her. She didn't like the idea of Liara being seen as a threat. Especially within her own mind. "Where did you come from?"

"From a time before memory began. A place that only memory holds dear."

Rolling her eyes, the Spectre snapped, "And your answers are as cryptic as ever. What does that tell me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She sighed, then forcibly took a deep breath and tried another question. "What are you?"

The Prothean tilted its head as though contemplating the question. "I am the past long forgotten. I am the future yet to be sewn. I am the hope of a civilization forever buried within shadow."

As the Spectre's inner frustration grew, a few loose strands of black hair fell across her face. She brushed the locks to the side of her face, then with the forefinger and thumb of her right hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "This would be funnier if it was happening to someone else," she said sardonically. The vagueness of the answers was comical, and although somewhat expected, they were still irritating. "Do you have a name?"

"A name is for identification, signifying and defining a state of existence, but I am no longer as I once was." The Prothean looked perplexed for an instant, then its gaze returned to a detached passivity. "Any name given is no longer relevant."

"I guess I'll just call you Harvey then," Lakota said flippantly. "Or maybe Frank." She didn't care if the Prothean understood her reference to twentieth century Earth cinema. All of the answers that she had been given were ambiguous at best, and since turnabout was fair play, an equally ambiguous retort was justified. Plus, it amused her. "Are you to blame for my cybernetics failing?"

"Your body's enhancements act independently. Their failure was inevitable."

At her wit's end, Lakota spat, "You know what… I'm done. This discussion is over." Then she opened her mouth to dish out another scathing remark, but at the last moment, she reconsidered. This was her dream. She was in control… so she was calling the shots. "In fact, this whole interaction is over."

She turned to walk away, but then heard the Prothean speak out.

"This will not end until you acknowledge what you are."

She spun around on her heel, the steel glint of her green eyes bearing down on the Prothean. "Acknowledge what I am? What does that mean? You're giving me a bloody headache with all of this ambiguity. Why the hell did you bring me here?"

"I did not," the Prothean replied. "It is you who has brought us to the dream."

A sudden sense of fear ran through Lakota's nerves like the chill of an icy wind. The declaration had a ring of truth, but she hadn't desired or intended for this confrontation to happen. Not consciously. "Me? I don't even know who or what you are. How could I be responsible for bringing you here?"

"It is your power that incites change. That continues to incite change." The Prothean took a step toward the Spectre confronting her not only with words but with its physical presence. "Will you persist in clinging to the past or will you see through the pain?"

Lakota stood her ground, her hardened gaze fixed on the set of four eyes staring back at her. "The pain…?" she repeated barely above a whisper as confusion gradually befell her expression. "I don't understand..."

The Prothean straightened its posture, clasping its hands behind its back. "Then our time is at an end."

"Oh no you don't," Lakota growled. She sensed that the Prothean's statement, like everything else it uttered, had more than one meaning, and since its words left her with an unpalatable sense of dread, she was not going to let it disappear before she tossed out a little intimidation of her own. "I will fight you. I will never stop fighting you."

"You do not yet comprehend your role. You think you can stop this. But you can no more defeat me than you can defeat yourself."

"To hell with you!" she snarled. Then she stepped forward, pointing her index finger accusingly at the figure in front of her. "There is no comparing you and I. We are nothing alike!"

"But we are." The Prothean closed the distance between them, challenging the Spectre, stopping only when the tip of her finger touched its armored chest. "I know this because I am within. I am woven to the chaos. I am what fills the void. I… am you."

…

Lakota woke up lying on the couch, gasping for air as she shuddered in the grip of fear and confusion, the lingering remains of the dream… the nightmare… still impacting her system. Wildly, she stared around the room and then gradually relaxed as the familiar setting of her cabin on the Normandy soothed her anxiety, reassuring her that the unsettling encounter was over, and that she was safe. When she sat up, she could feel her heart thundering rapidly in her chest, so she took a few slow, deep breaths to calm both her body and mind.

The entire room was dimly illuminated by the ethereal glow of the aquarium, its tempered, blue-grey hue hinting at the coolness pervading the space and edging its way into the palpably quiet ambiance. On the edge of her awareness she also noticed the faint, sweet scent of sage—a typical fragrance—which helped imbue the cabin with a soft tranquility. However, the confrontation with the Prothean in her dream proved to be all-consuming and shattered any comfort or security the familiar surroundings might normally instill. Instead, the encounter rooted in her thoughts as the strange conversation rang loudly in her ears and brought uneasiness to the very core of her being. A direct contrast to the serene, private space she shared with Liara.

The Spectre shook her head in an attempt to snap clear of her dark thoughts, but the relentless ache of a migraine pounding rhythmically just above her right eye hindered the movement. With a concentrated effort, she attempted to shove the discomfort to the back of her mind by focusing on the scene before her. When that failed, she rose from the couch and headed towards the bathroom. Once inside, she found the pain medicine Dr. Chakwas had prescribed, then swallowed two capsules, not even bothering with a drink of water.

Needing more than just the migraine to go away, Lakota ambled toward the shower with her head bowed low, discarding her clothing carelessly on the floor. She turned on the faucet, stepped in and let the scalding water wash over her. The hot liquid acted as a potent salve, rinsing away her tension, and as she sighed gratefully, the last haunting tendrils of the dream.

She didn't know what to think about the Prothean. She didn't know what to believe or disbelieve. Since waking in the hospital her mind had felt foggy and her actions felt controlled, as though she were a puppet on strings. The sensation was fleeting most of the time but always lingering in the back of her head, and always a source of irritation when she was able to focus on it. Was the Prothean somehow involved, or to blame? The very idea tasted of indoctrination, making her whole body shudder. Liara had argued against the possibility, and while she believed the Asari, she had also witnessed how subtle and pervasive Reaper influence could be. She had seen firsthand how the seemingly innocent seed of indoctrination was able to eventually twist and topple the most intelligent minds and strongest wills undetected. Matriarch Benezia, Saren Arterius, and the Illusive Man had all been victims of this perversity, and if they succumbed, how could she have any hope of surviving?

To reaffirm that she was both awake and alive, Lakota wiggled her toes as if seeking to burrow them into the solid shower floor. The hard, smooth surface comforted her senses and offered a stable, safe foundation for her exhausted body. Since she and Liara had shared the dream a few nights earlier, she had been leery of sleeping too long or too deeply while sharing a bed with the Asari for fear that the incident would occur again. So, to protect against that from happening, she configured her omni-tool to silently wake her when her sleep pattern entered the REM stage. Before she and Liara headed to bed, she activated that program and then de-activated it in the morning after they woke. Her quality of sleep had been poor, but the peace of mind more than made up for it.

This evening though, after talking with EDI, the Spectre—who wasn't feeling social—opted to bypass the party and instead returned to her quarters. After settling in on the couch with a datapad of ship status reports, it didn't take long before fatigue settled in and sleep overtook her. The program on her omni-tool had not been activated, so she easily drifted into her dreams. And into the confrontation with the Prothean.

As the hot water cascaded over her skin, Lakota's right hand came to rest on her chest, feeling the hypnotic rise and fall of her breathing. Then, her hand shifted to her neck, her fingertips memorizing the strong, steady cadence of blood as it coursed through her veins. She breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing that she was awake and having tactile proof that she was alive brought a sense of relief to her restless mind. Meanwhile, the warm water brought a soothing tranquility to her weary limbs.

Before her skin had a chance to prune, she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a plush white towel from a concealed pantry. She proceeded to quickly and efficiently dry off, then put on her bath robe before her body cooled too much. Her towel-dried black hair hung loosely around her shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her image in the mirror and smiled. The luxurious robe was a gift from Liara, extravagant by anyone's standards, and Lakota adored it. The sleek black, thigh-length garment had been spun from real silk. On the back, woven into the soft, smooth threads, was the image of a Bengal tiger detailed in Earth-Asian design. The thin fabric offered surprising warmth for such a light-weight textile. Its low conductivity level kept warm air closer to the skin which kept her warmer in cold environments. At this moment, she was exceedingly grateful for those unique properties.

Once she had straightened up the bathroom, she returned to the main quarters, settling down on the couch with the intent of distracting herself by going through more reports until Liara returned from the party. Something else captured her attention as she sat down, though. The small pulsating Prothean sphere on the coffee table. She had discovered the obsidian orb on the planet Kopis while doing some investigating for Cerberus. Originally, it appeared as a large, floating sphere with a reflective water-like surface that, eerily enough, reflected everything in the room with the exception of the squad. As soon as she had touched the sphere, it shrank down to a more manageable size. So, she brought it back to the ship, and after she and Liara had reconciled, she'd given it to the Asari as a birthday gift. When Liara rejoined the Normandy, she returned the sphere to the coffee table with the promise to check in on it now and again. Fortunately, now and again had turned into every day.

Although much smaller now, the sphere bore an uncanny resemblance to the relic found on Eletania. In fact, if it was still at its full size, it could have passed as an exact replica.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, startling the Spectre from her reminiscence, and then Liara stepped through the threshold.

…

Without missing a stride, Liara glanced over at her lover while crossing the distance to the desk, but she didn't say anything. Although the start of a barely perceptible smile curled at the corner of her mouth when she saw the black silk robe her lover wore. She always enjoyed the way the Spectre looked in the sheer fabric. The hemline barely touched the tops of her knees, and the way the silken fabric hung loosely on her body hinted suggestively at the sensual curves hidden from view. Even the room played to the appearance of sexy with just a taste of danger as the shadowy glimmer of the aquarium bathed the elegant covering in soft luminescence bringing to mind the sleek sheen of a panther.

The Spectre's eyes followed the Asari amble over to the desk, but to her credit the human kept quiet, presumably waiting for the researcher to open the dialogue.

Liara picked up a datapad, and even though she appeared to be looking at the digital display, her mind was actually focused on something else. "You missed the party."

"I did," Lakota admitted. "I was talking with EDI."

Although Liara knew of her lover's plans to talk with Kasumi, she assumed it wasn't mentioned because these quarters—unlike hers on the level below—were not fully shielded from the ship's sensor array. Dr. Chakwas, in order to be able to monitor the Commander's health, had insisted on this concession when she rejoined the Normandy after Earth's invasion.

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Liara asked, "How did it go?"

"It went well. Basically, she thought I was being an idiot."

"I told you so."

"Liara!" Lakota scolded, as she playfully grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at the Asari. "You're never supposed to say that to someone! It's rude."

Deftly catching the plush projectile in one hand, Liara replied, "Only humans think that." Then, she smiled brightly and crossed the distance to the couch, sitting next to her lover. "What happened after EDI?"

"Oh you know… I came back to the room, read some reports, fell asleep, was harassed by a Prothean in my dreams, took a shower." Lakota smiled charmingly, then shrugged her shoulders. "Normal stuff."

"Wait a minute," the researcher said in mock astonishment, "you read reports?" She was still feeling the pleasant effects from the wine she had consumed at the gathering and decided to play along with the Spectre's cavalier attitude for the moment.

"Two," the Spectre replied. Then, her lips pursed momentarily as though rethinking her statement. "Well, one and a half. Didn't finish the second one."

Liara turned to the right, covered Lakota's hands with her own and then, while gazing into pale green eyes, smiled gently. "I can't believe the Alliance promoted you to Commander."

"Back then I purchased a VI to help me."

"And now?"

"EDI says reading through my own reports builds character." Smirking, the Spectre added, "Personally, I find that it just makes me sleepy."

Liara frowned. She knew that the Spectre had configured her omni-tool as some sort of alarm to keep her from sleeping too long. It was impossible to share a bed with someone and not notice that they would suddenly wake multiple times a night. Now the physical repercussions were starting to show in the tired expression and dark circles under those green eyes. While patting her lover's hand in playfully feigned sympathy, Liara decided to seize the opportunity to turn the conversation to more serious matters. "And speaking of sleep… a Prothean as a dream lover? As you humans say, I never saw that one coming." She also decided to take the tongue in cheek route.

Lakota rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. Very funny." Then she sighed heavily and said, "No… this was more of a dream antagonist."

Liara's right hand reached out, and in an act of familiar intimacy, tenderly tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her lover's ear. Dampness still clung to the freshly washed locks, but the effect only added to their smooth, silken feel. "What happened?"

As the Spectre began recounting her dream, from the apocalyptic landscape to the bizarre conversation with the Prothean, Liara calmed her mind, forcing herself to concentrate on her lover's words and not become distracted by the worry and concern attempting to burrow into her thoughts. She knew those emotions were valid, and that she would have to allow a place and time to indulge in them, but this was not that time. In this moment, her focus needed to be directed at the woman beside her.

When Lakota finished, she sat back on the couch, her hands smoothing the silk fabric across her thighs. "We've talked about indoctrination, and you made a good point when you said that I'm not because I'm asking the questions."

"And I still believe it. My mother was the only person we've encountered who had the mental strength to keep a part of her mind free of from indoctrination, but that just proved to be a prison within a prison." A sad look flashed across Liara's face before she continued. "The rest… Amanda Kenson, Rana Thanoptis, Saren-"

"He fought it," Lakota said, interrupting the researcher.

"Yes," Liara agreed, "but only at the end when you confronted him with the truth."

The Spectre was silent for a moment. "Yes, just like the Illusive Man. When I think of all those who were indoctrinated, and then think of all the time I spent wandering around Reaper technology, I have to admit… I've been lucky. It could have just as easily been me, but at the time that thought never crossed my mind. Even though I saw examples of it over and over again, I never thought it would happen to me. I was so arrogant."

Liara tilted her head and a delicate smile played on her lips as she carefully scrutinized the woman in front of her. "Perhaps. And that may be one aspect of your personality," she said as she leaned back on the couch, wrapping her arm around the Spectre's shoulders and pulling her close, "but only a small part." She kissed her lover gently on the forehead. "I think you spend far too much time going over your short-comings, Commander. I think it's time we concentrate on what you really are: a wonderful, amazing, incredibly strong, competent and compassionate woman."

"I know my strengths," the Spectre said dryly. Though it seemed she was pleased at the words when a faint blush touched her features. "As well as my weaknesses."

"As an Alliance officer, a Council Spectre perhaps… but as an individual? As a human? I don't believe you understand what truly makes you strong."

"And you do," the Spectre said wryly, a faint smile edging her lips.

"Of course," Liara replied evenly. "You care about others. That does not mean you are not occasionally abrupt or rude or even harsh, as the Citadel Council can attest, but at your core, at the center of all you are, you care more for others than for yourself."

"I don't know about that."

The researcher leveled a challenging glare. "You believed in an Asari researcher when many others in the crew, others who could be considered 'kinder' than you, would have gladly left me behind in the ruins on Therum. You didn't judge me for my mother's actions."

"Of course not," Lakota scoffed. "As a child I learned to judge people on their own merits."

Liara smiled knowingly. "You allowed a Quarian, people who are viewed as scavengers by most, to travel with you, making a place for her in your crew as well as helping her complete her pilgrimage."

"Come on," the Spectre said, a playful lilt in her voice. "It's Tali. Who wouldn't help her? She was so cute and innocent. Granted, she could have incinerated me at any moment, but under that mask she sounded really cute."

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Liara said, "And you think EDI's voice is sexy."

Lakota nodded. "I do, and it is."

"So, your unusual interest in voices… Should I be jealous?"

"Nope. Never." The Spectre leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Liara's cheek. "Your voice is perfection. It brings peace to my soul… all the while riling up the rest of me." Her left hand patted her lover's knee. "You know you're going to have to argue harder if you want me to seem all noble and gallant."

"I'm not interested in making you to be noble or gallant. I'm only interested in highlighting the truth." Liara paused for a moment, pursing her lips as she contemplated her next argument. "But you're right, how about something more controversial? You helped a synthetic and organic step beyond friendship and embark on a romantic relationship."

"I had help with Joker and EDI," the Spectre pointed out. "Others on the ship gave their input, too. Even if it was just their quiet acceptance of the relationship. I have my own set of biases regarding synthetics, you know." Chuckling, she added, "Hell, I have a whole set of biases regarding organics, too."

Even though she knew Lakota was being darkly humorous, Liara squeezed her hand in silent admonishment. "But you were strong enough to put them aside and help EDI when she needed you... more than once." She turned her head, meeting her lover's gaze directly. "You've called the Normandy's crew a family. Your family. And it is, but only because you have made it that way, and only because you were strong enough to bring us all together and hold us together. I believe that if you are going to be measured as a person, it should not be by what you have done in terms of militaristic or even command accomplishments. It should be measured by the people whose existence is richer by your touching of their lives, not by being responsible for them, but by simply caring for them."

Liara watched her lover's lips curl into a delicate, shy smile, and noticed the hard swallow of her elegant throat.

"You are quite eloquent when you want to be," the Spectre said finally in a very husky voice.

Returning the smile, Liara leaned to the right, closing the distance between them and brushing Lakota's cheek with her mouth. "You inspire me," she whispered, exploring the cheekbone while she deftly maneuvered her body to a seated position on her lover's lap, effectively straddling her thighs.

The Spectre inhaled sharply, as though overwhelmed by the sudden and unexpectedly pleasant sensation of strong legs capturing hers and then provocatively squeezing them together. Instinctively, her hands came to rest at the Asari's lower back, allowing for the researcher's tactile journey across her face and neck to continue unimpeded.

Liara's lips placed soft doting kisses along her lover's jaw, lazily following the natural line to its end. Then, she slipped Lakota's earlobe between her teeth, tenderly biting down, gratified at the groan that emerged from the Spectre's throat. In a haze of want and desire, Liara's face nuzzled her lover's neck, breathing in her intoxicatingly familiar scent of sandalwood woven with a hint of sage. The well-known fragrance acted as an aphrodisiac, bringing with it the desperate ache of longing and the promise of unmatched fulfillment.

The Spectre's hands slid beneath her jacket and shirt, roaming freely across the smooth plains of her back. Meanwhile, Liara began nibbling and licking a sensual trail down the human's neck, reveling in the salty sweetness of tantalizing skin, but she stopped when the rhythmic drumbeat of a pulse could be felt on her lips. She knew this was a sensitive spot for Lakota—a favored spot—and when she gently bit down, she was heralded with another pleasurable moan coming from the back of her lover's throat.

"Liara…" the Spectre mumbled almost incoherently.

"Shhh…" Liara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now is not the time for talking, Shepard."

To finalize her statement, Liara leaned in and tenderly brushed her lips upon Lakota's. Pressing in to deepen the kiss, she was rewarded with the Spectre's lips parting and the feel of her silken tongue making contact. The pace of their exchange was arduously slow, each committing themselves fully to the seductive union, content in coaxing the embers of their desire with delicious precision.

The fresh, clean scent of the Spectre's recently scrubbed body mixed amidst their communion, pleasantly assailing Liara's senses and heightening her exquisitely roused craving. Needing to feel more, her right hand snaked leisurely up her lover's left side, noting supple curves and firm muscles beneath the silken cloth. When her thumb luxuriously brushed along a hardened peak, a sharp intake of breath was instantly elicited. Along with it came the Spectre's fingers, digging pleasurably into flesh and raking a wanton path down her back, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Matching the rising intensity, Liara captured Lakota's head with both hands, fingers weaving between still damp locks of hair, and decisively pulled her into a crushingly deep, lascivious kiss that ravaged lips, time and space.

As their kisses became increasingly passionate, their bodies pressed closer together, heat radiating between them in waves, hips moving to a primal rhythm that needed no direction. Hands and fingers roamed the other's body with wild abandon while toying with the clothing that had become a frustrating encumbrance and causing the heat between them to rise exponentially. No words were spoken, save for the occasional gasp or groan as the give and take of lips touching lips became unbidden, or as the fight of their tongues warring for dominance escalated to a furious need that demanded to be satiated.

Trembling in dizzy arousal, Liara reluctantly pulled her lips away. "Shepard?" she whispered, her voice raw with need.

"Yes?" Lakota murmured. She was breathing raggedly, clearly swathed within her own exquisitely painful stirrings.

Liara waited until the fiery, pale green eyes met hers, then she hesitantly asked, "Will you join with me?"

The Spectre blinked.

Tilting her head slightly, Liara said, "We haven't since…"

Lakota bit her lower lip, a pained expression on her face. "Liara, we talked about this…"

After waking in the hospital, they had spoken about melding, about sharing themselves in the most intimate way, but at the time the Spectre declined, saying that she wasn't ready. Over the last week, while reaffirming their relationship in all the various methods at their disposal, the prospect of melding had been brought up, but again the Spectre had declined. This time she raised concerns about Liara being able to enter her dream and the many questions surrounding the entity they encountered. For Lakota, there was a danger in melding.

Liara had her own reasons for wanting to meld with her lover, which went beyond the niceties of blending and bonding in the most exhaustively rewarding and personal way possible. She needed to reclaim her lover, body and soul. To reaffirm their belonging on a deeper level than the physical, on a more intense level than the emotional, and a more prolific level than the mental. She knew their attunement, their connection to each other would fend off any other claim attempting to be made on her lover, whether real or imagined. For Liara, there was a danger in not melding.

Then, a fleeting thought entered her mind, another possible reason for her lover to decline in this moment and continue to decline in the future.

"Are you saying that you don't ever want to?" Liara inquired, somewhat taken aback. That thought hadn't occurred to her before, and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

"No, I want to. I do," the Spectre's voice was firm, certain. "But…," she added, "my concerns haven't changed."

The Asari nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. "A few days ago, you asked me what I thought we could handle together. I told you anything. Everything. I meant it. I still do."

"I know, but-" Lakota shrugged her shoulders, her silence filling in all of the past arguments she had voiced.

The blue hued fingertips of Liara's left hand brushed lightly across Lakota's cheek in a tender, compassionate caress. Smiling, she said, "I love you."

The Spectre returned the smile. "And I love you, but-"

"I want to be with you. I need to be with you. All of you. No more barriers."

"I want that too, Liara, more than you can imagine, it's just that-"

Liara cut off her lover's argument with a soft, but demanding kiss. "Then trust me. Trust us."

Green eyes gazed into blue. "Okay."

With a dancer's grace, Liara stood, extending her hand toward her lover, guiding her to her feet and leading her toward the bed they shared. She positioned the Spectre with her back to the edge, then leaned in, placing a loving, but chaste kiss upon her lips. A promise of things to come.

After shrugging off her lab coat, Liara languidly removed her shirt, letting the blue fabric drift down her sylphlike form with bewitching fluidity. She kicked off her boots while her nimble fingers skillfully removed her white pants and underwear, leaving them discarded on the floor along with their partnered raiment.

Liara smiled when she noticed her lover's hungry eyes take in her nude form unapologetically, the intensity feeling like a sensual caress. Reaching out with both of her hands, she deftly untied the belt around her lover's waist and let her fingers brush against the soft, honey-toned skin beneath the silk robe. Her fingertips slowly drifted up her lover's torso, along the familiar, faded six inch surgery scar that cut a line between her breasts, a sight which always brought with it the reminder that the woman before her had almost been taken away from her. Forever.

Forcing those dark thought to the from her mind, Liara brought her focus back to her fingertips as they continued their journey along her lover's collar bone, coyly pushing the robe off her shoulders and allowing it to float lithely to the ground.

The Spectre breathed in deeply but remained perfectly still, as though relinquishing control, letting the researcher lead the way.

Liara's breath caught as she took in the magnificence of Lakota's strong, exquisite figure, her sensuous curves and lissome shape of long legs and well-toned arms. The grey-blue hues illuminating the room added a bewitching aura to the already divine, naked elegance standing before her. Stepping closer so they were a hair's breadth apart, Liara placed another sensuous, but this time, unchaste salutation upon Lakota's lips.

Her left hand guided Lakota's arm around her waist and her right hand snaked around the Spectre's head, drawing her further into the sensual, soul-tempting kiss. As their embrace tightened, the silken warmth of skin on skin contact engulfed Liara's senses, encouraging heated lips to part and inquisitive tongues to meet in an unhurried, but provocative dance of blissful entanglement.

The Spectre broke away from the kiss, but instead of pulling away, she wrapped Liara up in powerful embrace, burying her face into the Asari's neck. "My god," she whispered. "Yes, Liara. I want this. With you. Only you." Her arms tightened even further, face burrowed even closer. "I've missed you so much."

Liara closed her eyes, sinking into her lover's words and holding onto her with an equally desperate intensity, a fervor born from deep-seated longing. There was wild freedom in knowing that they both wanted, no, needed the same thing in each other.

Without a word or losing physical contact, they fell back on the bed, Liara lying on top of the Spectre, their legs immediately entangling together.

The joining they sought went beyond mere sex or physical pleasure. Without borders or boundaries, the sacred space they sought was a merged communion spanning across the four intertwined planes that made each individual whole: the mental, physical, emotional and spiritual. A holy place bound in the simple virtues of faith, love and trust. As lovers in the most intimate sense they had traveled there together many times before, but to Liara this particular union felt different, as though somehow leading toward a more profound connection.

Consciously setting aside that thought, Liara looked into the sultry green eyes staring back at her and smiled adoringly. She leaned in, her lips softly brushing against Lakota's gently at first, then fiercer.

Afterward the sweet, brief exchange, Liara tenderly pulled her mouth away, hovering inches from the enticing, ruddy lips that begged for her return. "Embrace eternity," she said softly while taking a deep breath, calling on her most innate ability and feeling the rush of biotic energy course through her body, knowing that her normally blue eyes had just shifted to black, "… always… with me."

The world they knew faded into the rich kaleidoscope of the unknown…

Author's End Note:
For those who are interested in the "Harvey" and "Frank" references, they are from the movies "Harvey" and "Donnie Darko" and from the SyFy network show "Farscape".