"I can do it."
"You can do it, Jane."
"I can, right?"
"I believe in you."
Liara stands at the bottom the stairs, needing to steal looks away every now and then as she resets her expression so that she doesn't fall apart laughing. The marine is stuck halfway at the stairs, her back pressed to a wall with arms out wide for support, half-flattened bags jostling vicariously on wrists. She shoots cheeky nonchalant smiles at those passing her by, looking at her as if she's every bit weird that she insists she isn't.
Of course she is.
"You can do it," Liara continues, her tone cracking with mirth. "You have been working very hard for this moment."
Jane's head snaps to her with eyes of betrayal. "You want to. I know you want to."
"No. I do not." Another quick reset. "I-I believe in you."
"Just get it out of your system," Jane groans. "Do me a favor and walk around the corner to laugh at me, though."
Liara has to. She's falling apart. She can't support like this, especially now that the marine has caught onto her. She rushes around the corridor and slaps her palm over her mouth to muffle her chuckles. She yelps when there's a sudden crash of bags beside her, laughing when arms snatch around her waist and lift her up a little—barely a couple inches. There's a grin filling up her peripheral vision and breathy sniggers hitting her aural.
"Ass," Jane murmurs. "Told you I could do it."
"Did you wait until I was out of sight so that you could lay down and slide the rest of the way?" Liara teases, another bout of laughter rolling through her as fingers pinch her in revenge.
"C'mon. Let's go to that flower shop, I don't want to forget about the seeds."
These moments are happening more frequently, and now Liara is hanging on a prayer that she will be able to remember every single one as vividly as she's feeling them. This human is absolutely ridiculous. Unbearably sweet. A natural charisma that pulls like a glitterwing to the starlight. Her ease to make the scientist laugh this much, this hard, to feel it recoil all the way down to her belly and make it ache is... There are no words for it. It's another painful reminder that Liara won't have unlimited time with this, just like her project.
Throughout the trials, Jane kept reassuring that they wouldn't remember it a year from now. She's right. Just a few days in, and the project is a thing of the past.
But Liara doesn't want to not remember this a year from now.
Aromas assault their senses just before they enter the flower shop, and there's almost a cough wanting to claw out of her from the strength of them. She doesn't know where she wants to go first in here, each pleasing smell tethering her. Jane goes off on her hunt down the aisles for the souvenir seeds, and Liara blushes any time she overhears the elcor shopkeepers address her as an asari. She ensures she's looking away any time there's that devilish red head beginning to turn towards her.
A yellow flower catches her eye, and her feet carry her over without thought. There's a lingering memory she ignores, this time, if only to spare her face from the implications. She picks up the small pot and brings it to her nose, eyes fluttering shut as she breathes in the delicate fragrance. Her heart twists a little, a melancholy momentarily gripping her, and she makes a mental note to call her mother at the end of this week.
For once, she has so many things to talk of instead of just archaeology, or mother's politics. It'll be nice not to talk about work for a change.
"You wanna buy that?" Jane breaks her from her muse, the marine tilting her head in curiosity and confusion. "Is yellow your favorite color?"
"No," Liara chuckles as she sets it down. "It is my mother's favorite color. Seeing this reminds me that I have not talked to her in a while."
"Oh... Well, you wanna buy it for her? The cashier mentioned they have a postal office that specializes in preserving stuff. Maybe we can see if we can ship this flower to your mom."
Liara's gaze falls back on the pot, her fingers cupping the pot, idly spinning it as she hums away to make a decision. Would mother really appreciate it? Is it still her favorite color? Does she still care for her botanical gardens, back home? They've rarely talked of any changes of themselves.
The decision is made for her when Jane takes the pot and heads to the cashier, and Liara laughs.
"Patience is not your strong suit," she teases from behind. She's caught off guard by the serious look when the marine glances over, and also notes that there's an additional pot on the counter of a purple flower, guessing the nature of it. "Is that your mother's favorite color?"
"Mm hm." Jane hands over her credit chit and shuts down any protests that may arise with a swift kiss to the temple, grinning deviously when the scientist blushes and looks away. She cautiously cradles the pots in her hands, her bags swinging about on her forearms, as she turns to take the lead out the shop. "Come on, we'll send these off and then find a hotel. That sound like a plan?"
"Yes." Liara finds herself needing to catch up already, smirking along. She grabs a shoulder to stop the marine for a second, long enough to lean in and steal a kiss on the cheek and murmur. "Thank you."
"Y-yep!"
A newfound bluster sweeps the pace up, and Jane all but speed-walking down the district now. She lingers and slows often whenever her head swivels over railings and spiral staircases, her mouth agape at the mesmerizing views of community gardens and farms all the way down below. Her hair has been doing something strange, however, and it's becoming more so over time. Almost as if it's splitting on itself. It's turning more into hay than hair, amusingly enough.
"Oh, there. I think that's the one the cashier was talking about," Jane announces, bags bouncing noisily as she takes off into a jog. They enter the postal office and fill out documents, where the flower pots are transferred into miniature containers that have an intricate watering system and enough to last a couple of weeks. The weights are taken, the addresses stamped. The document for Liara's flower is stolen by the marine and there's a mini-fight of slapping hands before Jane slides her credit chit across.
"I am not poor just because we are not working on the project anymore," Liara groans. "I have a lot sa-"
"Just let me do this for you," Jane chuckles, her lips finding her favorite spot on the temple in a brief kiss. Then she winks, her face reddening, as she whispers. "Gotta earn points with your mom."
"What?" Liara leans back with wide eyes, and a heart surging up to her throat. "Do you mean to court my mother?"
"What?" Jane looks over in confusion. And then she laughs. "No! Holy fuck, no. I am—yeah, no. Only you. Don't worry." She laughs again, shaking her head. She takes her credit chit back from the patient elcor processing their packages.
Liara blushes, the nature of their conversation not exactly held private, and waits until everything is done, stiffly walking out the office with the marine then.
There's a cheeky smile pressing to her temple again.
"My eyes are only on you. I know nobody will ever captivate me the way you have, Doctor T'Soni."
"Sounds like you're teasing in there, somewhere," Liara grumbles sullenly. Her act is decimated and a smile is pulled from her with the way lips insistently press to her temple.
"A little," Jane confesses casually. "You're a weirdo."
"You're a weirdo."
"No you're a weirdo."
"You need to work on your debating skills."
"Well you need to work on-" she says something completely incomprehensible then "-skills." Jane laughs at the deadpan look, looping all her bags on one arm so that she can grab a hand. Her nervousness becomes apparent when her fingers slip between the scientist's, her face resolutely forward as she mumbles. "Let's go to the hotel."
Mm hm.
This is okay.
Friends hold hands all the time.
They do.
Liara settles on this point and refuses to budge no matter the inner debating skills of her own. There's a sense of lighthearted giddiness enrapturing her heart, and she looks down at their joined hands often. She's been missing it since they've woken up together doing it—and she wonders if Jane was lucid at any point of the night to appreciate it too. It's a question the scientist isn't brave enough to ask.
Another set of stairs, another set of groans, another bout of laughter as the human turns into a glorified insect on a wall. Liara takes the bags away, even though they add little weight, but there are eyes looking at her as if she's just saved the marine from something truly dastardly.
She's too much.
"The signs are pointing the hotel district this way," Liara says as she gestures with her head down the corridor.
Their journey there is full of pit spots to marvel the forest and all the aromas intertwined with the architecture, where trees mingle with the urban metropolis and wind up around squat buildings. Her curiosity piques when she notices Jane start to run her hand through her hair, pulling the ends over her shoulder to shoot annoyed looks at it. She occasionally licks her fingertips and pinches strands of hay-hair in between.
"Damn, should've known the humidity here would frizz up my hair like this," Jane grumbles. "Hopefully the hotel will have some shampoo and conditioner that I can buy."
"You need products specifically for the care of your hair?" Liara blurts, her nagging questions getting the best of her. "Are they different than skin care? Why?"
"Yes," Jane answers vaguely, then shrugs. "I don't really know why. I guess difference in molecules or something? But using regular soap is really bad—too abrasive. That's all I know."
"And why is it... 'Frizzing up' right now?"
"Dunno," the marine chuckles. "Too much moisture than the hair can hold, I guess?"
"It did not do this when you bathed, though."
"Doc, I dunno~" Jane whines in a sing-songy way, laughing. "Do you know why your skin is blue?"
"It is due to the presence of Element Zero in an asari's system, which causes a violet-blue coloration at the molecular scale; you can see this presence most notably in asari blood if-"
"Remind me not to ever actually debate with you, smartiepants," Jane laughs. "Lost war, that. You're like, fucking all-knowing, or something."
"I only know the basics of asari physiology," Liara shrinks a little, embarrassed. "It is something I learned when I grew curious over the similarities of the asari and... Some other species."
"Oh?" An auburn brow arches, intrigued, accompanying a smirk that screams as if she already knows the answers to her questions. "Which species? And what other kinds of similarities have you learned?"
It's Liara's turn to tug on hands and take the lead, resolutely facing forward.
"Workout! Stress!" Jane yells on her way out the door, when they couldn't even keep their hands off each other for two seconds upon entering their hotel room.
Liara groans and marches to the bed, dropping her luggage aside without a care in her mission to muffle her frustrations. This is foolish. This is so incredibly foolish. She is making it exceedingly difficult with her blurry boundaries and sleight-of-hand decisions regarding their relationship. It's barely day two of this week and at this rate?
They're going to be naked for the last five days.
It's hormones, chemicals, pheromones. It's that cursed human. She must have pheromones of her own, that has to be it. It's the Maiden stage, matched with the human equivalent of the Maiden stage.
The countdown has begun, and Liara's heart cries out in empathy over what limb is left to demolish next. Jane isn't going to be able to do anything if her legs and arms are done. What's next? Her stomach? Her back? She'll exhaust herself so thoroughly that she won't even be able to sit upright. How on Thessia are they supposed to explore Unovasereng on foot, with this city's structure? The nature here is so intimately intertwined and provides some challenges to navigating even corridors.
Liara does not think Jane would exactly be thrilled to be levitated and carried around like that.
She checks her omni-tool often, damning herself for how slow time is going. She rummages in her luggage for her books, desperate for a distraction, her heart chiseling harder over time as she realizes the doom hour is approaching. She yelps, startled, when the door suddenly hisses open, at least half an hour earlier than what the marine goes for.
Tired, sweaty and smelly, Jane lumbers over to the other only room adjoined to theirs. She groans with relief inside the bathroom.
"T'Soni Doctor. Shower. They have a shower. It's really cool."
Goddess, she's broken. She's broken and it's all Liara's fault.
And it's really hard not to smile so wickedly for it.
"Come see. Has plants inside it too." So monotone. "I'm pumped."
"Oh? You certainly sound like you are."
Liara shimmies off the bed and plods over, trying to keep as neutral of an expression as she can when she enters the bathroom, and the marine is leaning against the wall with her chest heaving, her hair a glorified static haystack. Glorious. Jane's head lulls over to her so sluggishly, the sweat upon her lip trickling over the corner that isn't hitched.
"Look." Jane gestures lazily to the shower. "We're not fat as a fuckin' planet."
"We never were to begin with," Liara chuckles. She comes up to the pane to peer inside, appreciating the level of detail of a vine encased in glass, twirling around the shower pole. There are little shelf cubicles of other various plants, and upon opening the glass door, she sighs with content and her eyes flutter shut. "It smells so nice in here." She shoots a cheeky look over her shoulder. "A nice reprieve."
"I'll bet I'm stinky, yeah," Jane laughs, then clutches her stomach with a hiss. "Ow... Fuck..."
"Is there anything left to destroy?" Liara smirks, amused to have—as the marine likes to say—called it.
"Hoping my legs will be okay enough to work them out tomorrow."
"Do you expect to, every day?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?" Jane fires back, but she doesn't seem to have any awareness to what's tumbling out her mouth, just as there is no mindfulness left in the way she begins to work her damp clothes off. Her sweater slumps on the floor, the belt hissing as it's pulled harshly. "If I don't, I'm going to be working out with you instead."
Heat surges to Liara's face and she's paralyzed, her mind screaming at her to get out—but also screaming at her to stay. Jane's eyes flit up to her as she holds onto the waist of her slacks, a pretty crimson slashing across her nose bridge. Her eyes are darkened, murky from exhaustion, but hungry. She groans and seems to have to force herself to turn around.
"I don't have anything left I can slaughter. I'm going to turn into a puddle at this rate."
"Shower with me, Jane."
Because surely they are going to stay as friends when they do.
"Bad idea, doc."
Yes, yes. She knows it's a bad idea. She's already established this with the tub.
But.
"It will only be a shower."
"Load of shit," the marine huffs, her hands tensing on her slacks.
"We will not do anything to each other."
"Loooad of shiiiiiiiiit," Jane hisses, her head lulling back as another groan spills from her mouth. "Is this how we actually die from sex with asari? Holy fuck. My heart feels like it's going to implode."
Whatever is compelling Liara to have courage to approach, she hopes it stays. There isn't a part of her that isn't shaking inside as she does. She can see the quiver in her hands and tries to ignore it as she embraces the marine from behind—holding her breath at times. She knows what door she's about to open. It's terrifying and thrilling, this intense pull and magnetic yearning. She sweeps the damp hair and thumbs away strands sticking to the sweat-slick nape, pressing her lips in to taste herself. An electrifying rush courses through her and dances on her nerves upon feeling the body tense so rigidly in her arms, the hiss spilling from Jane's lips with a hail of variations of fucks.
This, between them, is already so good, and has been getting better every minute. Liara is frightened of the unknown that waits a week from now. She's just as frightened of losing the chance to express and celebrate what's blossomed between them. She doesn't want to forget any of this, a year from now; she doesn't want to be forgotten. She doesn't want to spend their last moments, settling to explore a city instead of each other.
"I do not want to be friends anymore, Jane."
Hands fall upon her shoulders soon enough, pushed along until her back hits the glass pane. Jane undoes her slacks and throws them off, opening the shower door as she steps in with her underwear, shoving Liara inside, evidently not caring that she's still in her suit. They gasp and laugh at the shock of cold water crashing down on their heads, and soon enough steam is wafting away from it scalding the marine's back.
Teeth nip at Liara's pulse hammering away at her neck, the sounds of her zipper undone echoing inside the small enclosure. She blushes fiercely when her suit is tugged down, the marine kneeling to pull it to ankles. She doesn't have time to brace herself for the heady rush fogging her mind when teeth experimentally bite at her thighs, calloused hands rubbing up along her hamstrings.
Any traces of anxiety are consumed by the wildfire. Jane doesn't seem the least bit nervous, a resolute focus in her eyes, though her face is flushed. She looks up and never breaks eye contact whenever she kisses the thighs, her hands roaming up. Liara's jaw clenches, teeth gritting, as fingers roughly sink into that body part. Her heart hammers in her aurals, a high-pitched whine nestling in them, and she seeks purchase in the drenched hair to hold for dear life.
Thumbs slip under the fragile fabric of her underwear, and a shaky breath tumbles out of her when it's pulled to the side. She closes her eyes and turns her head, pressing into the fogging glass. Her fingers turn in and nails sink into the scalp when she feels a tentative tongue glide up along her.
"Goddess," she hisses, searing warmth pulsing harshly in her cheeks.
It's more the realization that they are actually doing this than any sensation she can feel, the cursed water muting much of it. She feels the pressures, the tongue—hears the smacking of lips kissing her skin. Her underwear is pulled down halfway to her thighs, her legs nudged wide apart, and hands hold onto her hips. It's her only support. The glass wall feels like it's going to disappear any second.
Suddenly, Jane rises—though not without grunts and groans accompanying her troubles to do so. She races to wash herself with soap, uncaring of getting it over her underwear, and then hands the bottle over to Liara.
"Wh-what?"
"We're taking this to the bed, or the couch, or just anywhere outside this shower," Jane blurts huskily, washing her hair next. "I want to be able to feel you. This water isn't as hot as I thought it'd be."
"You can turn up the temp-"
"Not what I mean, doc," Jane chuckles lowly.
She takes it upon herself to suds soap in her hands and runs it down the asari's limbs. Her underwear is pulled back up, and the hands sink into her rump again, a greedy mouth smothering hers as their bodies crash together. It's horrible, this water. It's impossible to feel anything but pressure. Liara blindly reaches until she feels the knob and shuts the water off, not a single beat missed when the marine drags them out a second later.
They're naked for the last five days.
Today is the day.
It's hard to get up. Liara doesn't want to acknowledge that today is the day, but she's been counting. She lies on her side as she watches the marine sleep, mapping the features of the face with the occasional feather-light kiss. She reaches to sweep up disheveled bangs over to the side and tucks it behind an ear. Jane looks so peaceful, not a speck of worry or melancholy ever, leading up to this day. She would always be even more intense every time she seemed to realize that Liara was slipping down that slope.
What would she be like today?
Liara is somewhat amused over imaginations of a theatrical actress, exaggerating her woes. Or the varren marking territory. Or yelling matches, just for fun, to cause diplomatic incidents and be overall trouble, begging to question just how in the universe she is even a marine, forget officer. She can't see Jane crying. She will probably scoff and insist tough marines don't cry.
It's going to be hard, not to. In two weeks, this human has made her mark and engraved a special spot in Liara's heart. Their relationship hardly had due time to flow in naturally, and now it won't on it's way out. It has been more of a crash and burn rather than a slow kindling. The intensity of it all has caused so many questions and doubts, but upon embracing it all... Liara wishes she had done so sooner. She has never felt more alive than the adrenaline of just diving in and 'hanging on a prayer' as the marine put it. It's almost scandalous to even think of herself as someone with a thrill for high octane moments.
Liara scoots a little closer, wanting to feel more warmth from the body across from her. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, smiling at the fragrances of the candles Jane had disappeared to purchase as a surprise, at some point—but was too distracted to light. The scientist will never not stop herself from smirking that one is scented with that of the lorebodum trees.
She does not think the elcor pilot had this in mind when he encouraged for them to enjoy the lorebodum's pleasant aromas.
Doubt lurks in, as it has been waiting just around the corner to strike. Liara is still hanging on a prayer. She prays to the Goddess every day that this a dream she too will never wake up from. She doesn't want this to be the kind of goodbye where they'll each make promises they will never live up to. She hopes neither of them will be condemned to lies to keep themselves from hanging from the edge. Only time will tell and test them both.
Everything they've expressed has been... There are no words to describe it. She has never felt so at peace, so safe to be connected to someone on this level. Liara leans in and softly bites the marine's bottom lip, pulling, and pulling a low groan that stirs that insatiable hunger thrumming on her nerves. She smiles as she sneaks her hand under the blanket, glazing over the human's ribs.
"I could get used to waking up like this," Jane slurs a little, her sleep-addled eyes fluttering open. She gives a little quirky smile. "Good morning, Doctor T'Soni."
Why she still insists to say that, from time to time, is beyond Liara. She senses that it's more than just out of respect. She wants to keep up the momentum, to forget what's looming on the horizon, slipping her hand over the ribs as she tugs and nudges for the marine to take action already. Jane crawls over as she cages Liara's head in between her forearms to kiss, the pressure and friction of their bodies together having become a comfort that just seemed like such a bizarre notion before.
Now she doesn't want to let it go.
Lips press more firmly against hers as soon as her eyes start to burn. She knows it. She knows she's obvious. Her kisses are slothful, less mindful, her mind occupied by this wretched goodbye. She frames the human's jaw and holds for dear life, thumbs caressing across cheekbones. She knows she's utterly selfish when she cracks, and the words slip through.
Again.
"Please do not go."
Every time, Jane will inhale sharply, but she never says anything. She always sighs, like now. She becomes more insistent. Her hands more desperate.
For once, she falls apart, the weight of today hanging on her.
"I need to."
"Do you?"
There's a pause. The auburn brows pinch in conflict. Jane breaks the kiss as she looks into Liara's eyes, and there's a subtle sheen to hers. "I do. I'll bust ass, Liara. You know I can. You know I will. If I climb the ranks, I get more opportunities with where I serve. I get more approvals for shore leave requests. The first year... Maybe even the next two... It's going to suck." Her head falls, tucking her face in the asari's shoulder. She kisses back and forth the ridge of it. "I know it's going to suck, it'll be the rockiest it can get. But I'll put in a request every chance I'm given—the rotations are three months. If I get approved, I get a week."
"So every three months, we have a week to make the most of it?"
"If it's approved, yeah. It... Might not happen. It might be six months until we see each other again, or nine, or a year." Jane falls on her side with a sigh, turning her head to face away. "You don't have to wait on me. I'm not going to ask that of you. These past two weeks... You've given me the best moments of my life, and I wouldn't ask for anything more." She looks over, a softness to her gaze, a slight shiver to the smile on her lips. "Our calls are my favorite. I'll call you every chance I get, whenever you're not busy working. We can organize vid-calls when our schedules line up." She turns her head away again. "How stupid am I? I already miss you. I already can't wait to see you, but you're right here. This already sucks."
Liara rolls over, draping along the marine's side. She pushes the blanket down to hang by their waists, watching her hand as she trails the side of her nail up and down, lean muscles tensing and shuddering under her touch. She tucks under Jane's jaw, nipping at the pulse as was done to her, suckling on the little bruise left. A calloused hand slides up under her fringe, the sensations never any less intense as tingles shiver along her spine when the sensitive bundle of nerves are touched. She comes up to hover over Jane's face, ensuring careful enunciation.
"I will always wait for you."
"Lia-"
Resolve silences the protest.
"My schedule is more flexible, since I dictate what time I invest in exploring or studying when I chance upon an artifact. I will be ready for every call. I can read to you every night."
Jane's head snaps to her, her olivine eyes glowing more vividly. She grows desperate again, her hands cupping cheeks, pulling them so their foreheads press together.
"I will be there every watch shift," Liara promises. "We can sing 99 bottles on the wall for your whole 8 hours."
Arms embrace her by the shoulders, the marine hides her face in the crook of Liara's neck. "I don't want to leave you behind."
"You are not," Liara lies. She tries to fracture the thinking, change it into something positive. It's hard. She sighs when she feels something wet touch her neck and hugs back, ignoring the burning in her eyes as she smiles. "You are not, because I will be with you every step of the way. You have my frequency. You can leave me messages to ignore to your heart's content."
Hoarse laughter bubbles, and she smirks with pride. She chuckles, tickled by the pinch above her hip.
"Ass," Jane whispers.
Amber light illuminates the bedding, and Liara glances over her shoulder to see the omni-tool engaged. Her heart sinks upon reading the flight time confirmation. They have an hour left before Jane has to board her flight for the Arcturus Station, and aliens aren't allowed—something that has set fire to the human, reigniting those hopes and dreams of changing everything so long as she works to attain it.
Goddess, Goddess please let that be right, some day. Let tenacity win over politics, at least for a day.
"One hour," Jane sighs. She goes back to hiding her face. "I don't even know what I want to do for it."
"Oh? You have no ideas, not one?" Liara teasingly asks, feeling a smile grow against her shoulder. "How unlike you. You often decide and have many choices available, spur of the moment."
"Sure I have ideas, doc, but... I just... This really, really sucks. I wish I was able to give you more, and do better. I wish you didn't have to feel like you had to be nice, sometimes—or worst of all, patient, and hopeful. I wish I had, you know, to some degree, some experience so that I wouldn't spend so much time exploring and learning, when I could've spent it doing. I wish I was actually worthy of you willing to wait on me. It's clearly the opposite. You are so fucking far out my league, it's like I'm not even playing the same sport."
There's an old familiar blush coming on. Liara almost thought she wouldn't be capable of it anymore, with what they have been investing their time in. She wishes she caught onto this sooner, asked the questions she was too shy to ask. She should've known—she had known—the marine would beat herself up.
Goddess, they're really going to have this conversation, really? Liara's not regretting anything or in denial, no, but it still feels so tawdry to discuss sex.
"I e-enjoyed it all," Liara croaks pitifully. She clears her throat and has her hands firmly weaved in the auburn hair, to stop Jane from looking up at her at any point. There's a lump growing in her throat, but she's determined to get this out her; or else they may be tormented with regret for three months—worse yet, longer. But her courage fades quickly. "Even... Well, you know, I had the same issues. I do not care whether or not we are experienced, Jane. What I desire most is to have experiences with you." She softens her hold, bending her head to burrow her mouth in the disheveled hair. She smiles and almost scoffs on the matter of worthiness, kissing the auburn head as she prays that Jane will realize it someday.
"One day I hope you will see you the way I look at you, and then you will truly know why every second with you is worth the wait."