A/N:Thank you so much to everyone who is still reading along and very kindly requesting updates. Future Souls is not dead! We will be seeing events out to their conclusion...I am very apologetic that it has taken me so long to get there. This latest chapter is NSFW.

Chapter Thirty-one

The Here and Now Part II

2208 CE

Reaper Moon, Micah System

Not since the darkest days of the War could Liara remember feeling quite so scared. The fear had taken hold of her mind, making it difficult to think rationally. Even though their torches illuminated the corridors, the darkness seemed to press against their small company from all sides. It eroded their lights, almost as though it were trying to swallow them whole.

The strange thing was, if Liara had been alone then she knew that the fear would not have been so profound. In her youth, obsessed with uncovering Prothean ruins, she had been a creature of the darkness. For months at a time she had dwelled underground, unfazed by the absence of light, the confined spaces, or even the unknown. This time was different. Whenever Liara looked around, she saw the youthful faces of the four surviving marines gazing back at her. The fear she felt inwardly, was reflected openly on their faces. She soon realised that their fear seemed to recede a little when she met their gazes and offered up a firm nod or a word of encouragement. The marines, blooded with their first taste of combat only hours earlier, needed her to play the part of the veteran.

They had been fighting running battles with small squads of Reaper forces – nothing like the numbers that had overwhelmed them on the bridge. The encounters were sporadic and disorganised. Liara was beginning to suspect that the Reapers were just as blind as they were within the Moon's interior. Even so, each encounter took its toll. A frenetic firefight thirty minutes earlier had left Corporal Downie with flash burns on his face from an exploding conduit. Stoically, he had refused to let anyone waste their medigel supply on his wounds.

Liara had made a point of learning the names of each marine, fixing each face in her mind. They had since become her troops, and she was not about to give up on any one of them. As time passed, she learned more of their personalities, a little of their backgrounds, more than enough to lament their loss if any one of them were to die. Corporal Downie, a lanky dark-haired young man, was the only NCO among their ranks. The other three were all privates – Nakamura, Rowe, and Mapala. The latter had not said a word since the bridge, although Liara was satisfied to have received a determined nod in response to asking how the young man was feeling.

"Private Rowe, what is the latest update on our route?"

The marine brought up her omni-tool. "I'm still not seeing any overlay with our original route. The nearest I can figure is that we're somewhere further west, and a little higher. I'm sorry ma'am, but I think we got all turned around in the initial mess after the bridge."

"Do not blame yourself. No one was noting our position whilst running for our lives," Liara replied. She had initially asked the marines not to call her 'ma'am', but she quickly realised that it offered them a level of reassurance that calling her 'Liara' or even 'Dr T'Soni' could not.

"Should we reconsider and stay put?" Private Nakamura suggested. Liara had overheard Downie teasing him about his youth – he was barely past his twenty-first birthday. "Wait for the cavalry?"

Liara had considered this. It did seem like the best course of action. After all, if they strayed too far from the original route, it would be more difficult for Ashley and the others to find them. However, their engagements with the Reapers had convinced her that they were correct to stay on the move. If they dug in, they would be quickly overwhelmed as more Reapers were drawn to their position. Even though there was the possibility that they were moving away from the LZ rather than towards it, they had to continue making it as difficult as possible for the Reapers to find them.

At the back of Liara's mind lingered the eventuality that they would run out of supplies and be left wandering the darkness without hope of ever escaping the Moon. It reminded her of the plot of a horror movie Ashley had made her watch a long time ago. She banished that thought to the back of her mind and vowed to stick to romantic comedies if she managed to make it out alive.

As she placed one foot in front of the other, Liara suddenly wobbled slightly. She stretched out a hand and braced herself against the nearby wall. The realisation struck her that they had not stopped running since the ambush on the bridge. It was one thing to decide that staying on the move was their best option, it was another to push everyone to the point of exhaustion. Additionally, Liara had drawn heavily on her biotic reserves – pushing herself close to her limit. She desperately needed food and rest.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

The young marine, Nakamura, was at her side – arms at the ready as though he was poised to catch her. It was then that Liara realised her exhaustion must be obvious. The last thing she wanted was to collapse in front of the marines who were looking to her for leadership and reassurance.

"I am fine," Liara replied evenly. She lifted her hand away from the steadying surface of the wall and turned to survey her companions. Her own exhaustion was reflected on each face. "Just a little tired. I think we would all benefit from a rest."

There were no objections to her order, although none of them felt able to truly relax. The marines perched against bulkheads, remaining at readiness with their weapons close to hand. Liara found a small ledge, grateful to take the weight off her legs. She ate one of her emergency ration bars slowly, chewing each mouthful deliberately to make the most of the much-needed calories. The food felt wrong in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow each morsel.

The marines spoke in hushed, muted conversations which easily faded to background noise as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. She checked her chrono. Time within the Moon was meaningless, but her longing drove her to find out what time it was on Thessia. Evening, Liara mused. Well past bedtime. Alice and Theda would be tucked safely in their beds. Or more likely Theda would be in Alice's bed, folded in her sister's arms. Liara closed her eyes and pictured the scene for a few moments, imagining herself kneeling at the bedside with her hand poised to stroke her children's crests. She did not allow herself to linger, opening her eyes before the image became too painful.

"Ma'am…Dr T'Soni?"

Liara did not need to look up to recognise Nakamura's voice. The timing of his words meant that he had been watching her, waiting for her eyes to open. She was annoyed at herself, not for giving in to her weakness but for letting it be noticed. After a beat, she lifted her gaze to meet that of the young marine. He looked expectant rather than apologetic, having not realised that he had intruded on a private moment.

"Was it like this before?" Nakamura asked.

"Before?" Liara did not understand the question.

Nakamura winced, realising that his question had been vague at best. "I meant to ask, was it like this during the War? Losing your friends? Wondering what the hell is actually happening? Being scared all the time?"

The questions came so quickly that Liara barely had time to process them until she found herself staring at Nakamura with a blank expression. She was also aware that the other marines were now all looking in her direction. Apparently, Nakamura had been the one brave enough to ask the questions they all wanted to ask. Again, she was reminded of their youth. Even the oldest among them would have little to no memories of the Reaper War. Liara bit back her instinctual response - the curt one that clearly indicated she did not want to talk about it. She opted instead for patience.

"Yes, is the answer to all three of your questions," Liara replied, already feeling the weight of her memories as they flooded her thoughts. "Many friends gave their lives to stop the Reapers, including those who died before there was even a war on the horizon…and those who died as victory was in our grasp."

It was a sobering reflection. Had Shepard not ordered her evacuation from the battlefield, Liara herself would have been among the final casualties.

"Like the Quarian hero, Tali-Zorah vas Normandy," Rowe added suddenly. "I'm from London. Whenever my parents and I walked past her statue on the Embankment, I'd always ask to stop for a moment. She was so young when she died."

Liara was surprised by a sharp pang of sadness in response to Rowe's brief recollection. If the marines were expecting further elaboration, she disappointed them by offering up only a mute nod. Apparently, talking about Tali was a step beyond what she was prepared to disclose.

Corporal Downie was undeterred by her silence, "What was it like onboard the Normandy SR-1? Travelling the Galaxy with The Shepard?"

Still trying to recover from memories of Tali's body being slammed into the mud by a Brute, Liara found herself unable to reply for some time. She knew that the knowledge of the young marines would have been shaped by media produced by those with very little connection to the original Normandy. Many of those who had served aboard the SR-1 were dead, and none of the survivors had seen fit to lay their memories bare to sate the appetites of a ravenous public.

Liara sighed, knowing that there was a chance they would not leave the Reaper station alive. "It was only twenty-five years ago, a mere moment in the lifetime of an asari, and yet I feel as though those experiences belonged to someone else. I thought myself brave, but I was scared all the time…we all were." When the words came, she found herself giving voice to thoughts that had never been expressed aloud. She looked up and found four faces staring at her expectantly. Even Mapala, who had shown little interest in conversation, was staring at her with a rapt expression on his face. "I had never even met a human before, and I found myself on board a ship serving alongside dozens of them. I was overwhelmed and out of my depth…and yet throughout it all the one thing I never felt was hopelessness. Even at my lowest point, after helping to kill my own mother who was indoctrinated beyond saving, I never felt hopeless."

"Why?"

It was Mapala who had finally spoken. Liara offered up a small smile before continuing, "Shepard. She was the driving force that held all of us together and kept us moving forward to a resolution – even when that resolution was entirely unclear. I know you have all heard the stories but serving alongside her was something quite indescribable. A leader…and yet also a friend. Her strength was rivalled only by her compassion. She saved my life more times than I could count and, in the end, she saved all of us."

Liara let her voice trail away into silence. There was much more to be said, even without sharing those precious memories that were hers alone. Private conversations she and Shepard had shared post-mission in the dark storeroom that had served as her quarters. Melding with Shepard, an act that had forever entwined them with a level of intimacy that was surpassed only by her relationship with Ashley. Liara left all of that unspoken, but she hoped that what she had shared offered the four marines some level of comfort. Each was now lost in their own thoughts.

In the following quiet, every sound was amplified. The rustle of a ration bar wrapper. Micro-servos whirred as Mapala checked his shotgun. Nakamura tapped his fingers on his thigh in time with a tune that only he could hear. When Liara heard something in the distance that sounded like weapons fire, it was so incongruous with the other sounds that she thought she was imagining it.

"Do you hear that?" Rowe hissed urgently.

It was not just her imagination. Liara snapped back to full alertness, adrenaline chasing away her exhaustion. Around her, the small squad of marines followed suit, taking up defensive positions. The sounds of combat intensified, indicating that it was moving towards them. The gunfire echoed eerily down the corridor. It was still too far away to see any flashes of light, but it was only a matter of time.

"It's the rest of the team coming back for us, it has to be!" Nakamura said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yes!" Rowe hissed with a clenched fist. "I knew they wouldn't leave us out here to rot!"

Liara did not share their optimism. She cocked her head to one side, listening intently to the pattern of gunfire. It took her only a moment to discern key elements – not only was the gunfire precise and controlled, but it was also coming from a single rifle. One individual fighting against unarmed opponents – most likely husks. The assault rifle also had a unique sound, one she recognised immediately. It was a prototype that had yet to be offered on the open market. There was only one person on the team who carried that weapon. The realisation caused Liara's breath to catch in her throat. The inactivity lasted only a split second. She flared whilst sprinting towards the corridor.

"On me!"

It was irrelevant whether the marines followed her or not. However, as she was swallowed by the narrow mouth of the corridor the beams of multiple torches added to the illumination of her biotics. She welcomed each repeat of the assault rifle up ahead – punctuated by regular concussive shots - it meant that its owner had yet to be overwhelmed. Hold on a few moments longer, you foolish idiot.

The darkness ahead illuminated sporadically – flashes of muzzle flare at first, then a lone torch beam. It painted a desperate tableau. A shadowed figure, their back to Liara, was framed against a writhing mass of husks surging down the corridor. With short, controlled bursts of gunfire the husks were being kept at bay. Most fell to precision marksmanship, their heads exploding, but there seemed to be no end to them.

"Ash! Singularity incoming!" Liara yelled as she drew on the dark energy swirling around her body.

Ashley turned to look over her shoulder. Although her eyes went wide, the surprise lasted only a moment before she flattened herself against the wall of the corridor. Liara took up Ashley's place in the centre. With one fluid movement, she sent a massive singularity careening towards the husks. Several were immediately swept up into the maelstrom, while those nearby were caught in the blast radius as Liara detonated the singularity with a precise warp attack. In the confined surroundings, the resulting explosion was almost deafening. The front ranks of husks were torn to shreds. The swirling tendrils of dark energy had barely dissipated when all four marines opened fire on the mass of flesh that was still moving forward. The combination of assault rifle fire and several more biotic attacks decimated the husks. Within thirty seconds, nothing ahead of them was moving.

In the aftermath of the sudden violence, the silence in the corridor was stark. Liara wasted no time in looking Ashley up and down, checking her for wounds. However, other than obvious exhaustion, sweat dripping from her face, and pulpy bits of organic matter clinging to her armour, Ash appeared unscathed.

"Fall back to our previous position," Liara ordered the marines. It was a more defensible position…and it did not reek of charred husk. "We'll take stock of our gear before pushing forward. Nakamura, you've got point. Williams and I will bring up the rear."

Within the privacy that she had just created, Liara focused on the unexpected meeting with her bondmate. After believing that Ash was safely at the LZ with the rest of the team, she was not impressed.

"What are you doing here?" Liara demanded, keeping her voice down. "And alone?"

"Um…I came to rescue you?" Ash admitted in an embarrassed voice. She was deliberately scanning the darkness, probably so Liara could not see the corresponding expression on her face. "After disobeying Garrus' orders to stay in the LZ."

"Your stubbornness knows no bounds!" Liara growled. "A part of me is pleased to see you, but that part is thoroughly outweighed by my irritation! I suspect that will appear mild in the face of Garrus' fury when he sees you again."

Ashley finally met Liara's gaze. She offered up a tight-lipped smile. "If he sees me again."

"Ash…" Liara reached out and placed her hand on Ashley's shoulder. "We are going to leave this place…together-" she then offered up a small smile "-your stupidity notwithstanding."

Ash did not smile in return, she merely nodded. They settled back into an effortless rhythm of scanning the darkness for any pursuing husks. As they moved, Liara freely admitted to herself that she was pleased to see her bondmate. For the first time since the bridge, she realised that she was no longer scared.

When consciousness returned, it was a slow, gradual process made easier by being exceptionally warm. Miranda revelled in the almost forgotten feeling. The sensations went beyond warmth, to something approaching joy as she realised that her bare skin was pressed against another body. Arms were wrapped around her in a fiercely protective embrace. It was a promise of safety. The only indication that any of what she had experienced in the tank was real, was a painful burning in her throat and a fading headache.

When her eyes opened, the fog was gone and she found herself staring at a featureless wall. Her confusion soon gave way to the realisation that she was in one of the living quarters they had passed on their way to the control centre. In addition to the body at her back, she was wrapped in a soft, musty smelling blanket. Warm breaths fell on the back of her neck, each one sending a shiver down her spine. Despite everything she had just been through, she felt her treacherous body quicken in response and her belly swooped with a sharp pang of desire. She made the mistake of stretching slightly, her body arcing against the firm weight behind her. The connection was both electric and unnerving.

"Shepard?" the name rasped quietly from her throat.

Miranda regretted saying anything as the contact which she had been savouring suddenly disappeared. She heard bare feet padding on the floor and the sound of water being poured into a glass. With great effort, she rolled over to find Shepard crouched down in front of her with a glass of water and a relieved smile.

"Hey," Shepard said softly, relief also evident in her voice. "Welcome back."

Miranda reached for the glass. Her hand trembled slightly in lifting it, but she was grateful that she could hold it with her own strength. Although she suspected she would have enjoyed the indignity of Shepard holding it for her while she drank. The cool liquid soothed her throat, and she drained half the glass before handing it back.

"Better?" Shepard asked. There was a clink as she set the glass down on the nearby desk.

Miranda nodded. "Much."

She was able to focus on her surroundings now, but other than a cursory glance around, she was more interested in Shepard. The ex-Commander was not entirely naked, but she had stripped down to her underwear. The pieces of the hardsuit were scattered across the floor, evidence of the haste in which she had stripped them from her body. Miranda imagined the panicked scene that had unfolded while she lay semi-conscious and was overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Thank you, Shepard."

"Don't mention it," Shepard replied quickly. "It was you who was risking your life in that contraption. I'm sorry it took me so long to get you out."

"As long as it wasn't for nothing. Please tell me it worked?" Miranda ventured hesitantly.

"I…I don't know," Shepard admitted reluctantly. "I'm not sure what was supposed to happen. You were in the tank for what seemed like hours – I lost track of time staring at you, watching you to make sure you were still alive. I could see your eyelids twitching – as though you were dreaming. What happened in there?"

"I can't be certain, but I think the Intelligence created a means of exploring what was wrong with it in a way that humans…that I could comprehend." Miranda found the thought of explaining Shepard's own memories back difficult – especially the last one. Their shared memory. "Suffice to say, it all felt very real. I was stabbed and shot at while you were watching." And utterly heartbroken. Miranda left the last part unsaid.

Shepard's eyes went wide. "Bloody hell, Miranda. Are you sure you're okay? What actually happened to you?"

Miranda shook her head. "I can't explain it even if I wanted to. But I think…it feels like I was able to fix what was broken."

"I'm sorry again…for making you go through all of that."

"No, the Intelligence was right all along. It had to be me. It could only have been me," Miranda explained as a perverse sense of pride started to creep in at the back of her mind. Had she spared the entire Galaxy from a second Reaper War? No, that was irrelevant. All that mattered was that her family and friends were safe. "I guess the Intelligence was lucky that I hadn't been hit by a bus sometime over the last two decades."

She managed to smile, even though she knew full well that the greatest threat to her life had always come from within. From the depression that stalked her mercilessly as she pushed herself to stay ahead of it, clinging onto purpose like a life raft.

Miranda chased away those thoughts by focusing on Shepard. The woman was still kneeling on the cold floor beside the bed. Obvious goose flesh had begun to pimple her body – very much human, but at the same time so much more. Even stripped down to her underwear, Shepard remained poised and coiled like a spring. She was, as she always had been, the epitome of a hero.

Miranda felt a twinge of something very dangerous – hope. Surely this was it, they had prevented another war. Shepard had done her part, and this time around she would be able to walk away from it all. There was no better person to reassure the Galaxy in the wake of what had just happened. Miranda did not know what to feel at the prospect. It would add a complication to her personal life that she did not know how to solve.

Matters were made worse when Shepard reached out, almost absently, to stroke a few strands of Miranda's hair away from her eyes. It was just the barest of touches, but Miranda's skin tingled as the pads of Shepard's fingers brushed over it. Even when the hair had been put back in its place, Shepard absently continued to stroke it, lost in the motion. When she finally realised what she was doing, her cheeks coloured, and she lowered her hand.

Don't stop, was the thought that flitted into Miranda's head. However, she deliberately shifted her thoughts to a more mundane concern. In the haste to warm her body, Shepard had left some of the goo from the tank on her skin. It had dried in crusty patches. Miranda shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't suppose the Intelligence thought to instal showers?" she asked hopefully.

Shepard looked relieved to have been asked a useful question. "Of course. Sorry, I should have thought of that."

Miranda took the proffered hand, although keeping her other securely wrapped around the musty blanket. She dragged it up with her, draped over her shoulders with the pretence of staying warm. Shepard let her hand go, although remaining close by. Somehow, her rubbery legs managed to hold her own weight and she held the blanket tightly around her as she followed Shepard.

"Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that the water will be warm," Shepard announced apologetically as she palmed the door open to a small ablutions block.

"I feel so filthy that I really don't care," Miranda replied as she entered one of the stalls, closing the partition behind her.

It was barely any barrier at all, but Miranda was grateful for the small amount of privacy. She tossed the blanket over the door, but before turning the faucet she simply leaned against the wall and let it take most of her weight. The last scenario, before she had abruptly been ripped out of it, played through her mind. It had all seemed so real. Those few minutes had been glorious, and yet now in the aftermath she was struck by the cruelty of it all. In refusing to admit her own feelings in response to Shepard's admission, she had never known what her honesty might have felt like. Now she understood completely. And conversely, she understood exactly what it was she had turned down. Her regrets only intensified.

"Are you alright in there?" Shepard had lingered nearby, obviously expecting to hear the running of water.

"Fine," Miranda replied tautly. Quickly turning on the faucet. The water was indeed cold, but her only response was a sharp intake of breath. She ducked her head under the stream, letting it wash away the tears that had been tracking down her face.

"Ah, great…I'll be just down the hall, within earshot if you need-"

"Wait." Miranda interrupted, hoping she did not sound overly desperate. "Can you stay with me, please?"

The request had been instinctive, and Miranda was surprised at herself for making it.

"Oh…of course." Surprise was also evident in Shepard's voice. "Are you sure you're alright, Miranda?"

"Yes…I just-"

Miranda searched for the answer that would reveal the least and settled for saying nothing. Instead, she focused on scrubbing the encrusted goo from her skin, making do with just the cold water and her fingers. Her skin quickly reddened beneath her touch, but it felt invigorating. All the while she was acutely aware of Shepard's physical presence on the other side of the door.

Several minutes later, feeling raw and cold, Miranda was satisfied that she was clean. She could not bring herself to shut the water off. Doing that would mean having to directly face Shepard. Instead, she settled for keeping the barrier between them. It would be easier to ask the question to which she needed an answer.

"Shepard…what happens now?" Miranda asked, raising her voice just enough so Shepard could clearly hear her over the running water.

There was a pause before the tentative reply. "I don't know what the Reapers will do. As I said, it seems unlikely that they will ever be trusted-"

"That's not what I meant," Miranda pointed out quickly. She did not know if the other woman was being deliberately evasive. "I mean, I'm sure all of that is of Galactic importance, but I was talking about you. What happens to you now? Can you stay?" With me. Her final words remained unspoken, but they were implicit.

There was an even lengthier pause, the kind of pause that heralded a response you did not want to hear. Miranda's gut twisted into a painful knot.

"Oh…Miranda…I can't…" Shepard sounded pained. "This was never about bringing Shepard…bringing me back-"

"I know," Miranda interrupted tersely, her eyes burning yet again.

The cold water continued to flow, and she started to shiver. She was irritated at herself for her inability to remain detached. If only this mission had simply been transactional, as Shepard had believed it would. Instead, she was overwhelmed by the weight of her emotions. An old memory surfaced and she thought bitterly, I should have implanted that control chip in my own damn head.

"The Intelligence never anticipated how difficult this would be," Shepard offered up weakly.

"Saving the Galaxy isn't supposed to be easy," Miranda replied bitterly.

Fuck it, she thought suddenly. Fuck everything. I'm bloody sick of regrets.

A memory flashed through her mind – the night she had met Shepard in the casino on the Citadel. She heard the same alarms going off in her head. Just as she had all those years ago, she ignored them. One arm lashed out, throwing the door to the shower stall open. She found Shepard standing in the middle of the floor, her shoulders slumped. Miranda could only imagine how wild she must have looked to Shepard – dripping wet, her hair plastered to her head, with a look of wild abandon in her eyes.

"Join me." It was not a request.

"I don't think that's a good idea…" Shepard began awkwardly, even as she instinctively made to take a step forward.

"I have long since passed caring whether anything is a good idea," Miranda said almost coldly. "I insist."

The offer did not need to be made again. With trembling hands, Shepard hastily stripped off her underwear as Miranda watched. She felt a thrill as Shepard then padded across the space between them and entered the stall, hissing loudly as the cold water hit her skin.

Even within the confines of the shower stall, Shepard made a point of maintaining her distance. It was a futile attempt to avoid intimacy. Their naked bodies circled each other, like two pieces of a puzzle that had not yet been joined together. There was no hiding. Each laid bare their expression for the scrutiny of the other. Miranda could clearly see the turmoil behind Shepard's eyes – the blatant desire that she was utterly failing to suppress. Miranda's fingers twitched in her need to feel Shepard's skin beneath them.

"Miranda…" Shepard began softly. "There is something that I have been meaning to ask you. Earlier, when I was asking about our friends…you avoided talking about your life since the War. I worked out for myself that you've done well. You built an entire hospital for Jack."

Miranda was grateful to have something to take her mind off the fierce pangs of desire that were radiating out from her core. "You know me. If there's one thing that I can do better than anyone else, it's project management. It's why the Illusive Man put me in charge of the Lazarus project. He knew that I would achieve the desired result. I could take people more gifted than myself and help them all to realise their potential." Miranda found herself smirking. "I'm not going to be remembered as a great war hero, or a gifted scientist, but as the person who could project manage the shit out of anything."

"Without you, those war heroes and scientists wouldn't have achieved a damn thing," Shepard was quick to point out. "I would have been nothing more than charred meat lying on a slab."

Miranda's lip twitched at the description. It was a distant memory, especially when compared to the lean, perfect body on display in front of her. "Perhaps." She moved on quickly, "But in the wake of the War, it became obvious that I could make a difference. I leveraged my knowledge of Cerberus, of technology and resources that would benefit the Alliance and started a small research and development company. My aim was never to become wealthy, it was simply a by-product. I had the means to make the difference that I wanted – and so I worked, knowing that the harder I worked the more money I could use to fund projects that mattered. The hospital for Jack and others like her – and other projects across the Galaxy. I never really thought about it myself, but Liara called me a philanthropist…and I suppose that's what I am. And I can selfishly hope that it will one day eclipse anything I ever did with Cerberus. It's how I would like to be remembered."

"Your work…your achievements…Miranda, you are amazing, and your legacy is definitely not going to be tied to an organisation that you walked away from." Shepard's gaze shone with her enthusiasm. "But surely that's not all that defines you?"

"What else is there?" Miranda's response was somewhat facetious, she knew what Shepard wanted to hear and she was deliberately avoiding it.

Shepard let out a frustrated breath. "Tell me you've lived a life beyond your career?"

"Why?" Miranda asked petulantly. Her anger had continued to linger under the surface. Just another emotion in the swirling vortex. "You left. Why does it matter to you?"

It was a last, desperate attempt to deflect the whole situation. To perhaps find an escape route from the physical intimacy they shared, from the inevitability of what was going to happen.

"I want to know that you haven't been alone all this time?"

Miranda closed her eyes and focused on the water flowing over her body. Her anger dissipated as her thoughts were flooded with images of Nea. She savoured them for a few precious moments, before opening her eyes and turning her attention back to Shepard. The Commander was staring at her expectantly, eyes still shining.

"I was alone for a long time," Miranda admitted with a ragged sigh. "I carried my grief and my regret around with me like a millstone. Oriana tried to help me, and I pretended for her. I buried myself in my work…in taking care of Jack. Or rather, Jack took care of me. More than anyone, I think she saved me when I was at my lowest. I never told her this, but…for a long time, I was only living for her. If I had still been alone when she died, I think I would have unravelled completely."

"But?" Shepard prompted as Miranda's voice trailed off.

"I found someone at precisely the right time."

"Will you tell me about them?" Shepard asked gently.

A smile ghosted across Miranda's lips. On one hand, she desperately wanted to tell Shepard everything about Nea. To detail her asari lover's kindness and compassion, her tenacity and patience in pursuing a relationship long after most individuals would have given up. How stunningly beautiful Nea was. How Miranda felt undeserving of such a partner.

Miranda shook her head. "I think…it's best if I don't."

"Why?" Shepard asked gently.

"Because if I started talking about her-" Miranda paused to draw in a breath "-then I would have second thoughts about what happens next."

"What-"

The inevitable question was silenced as Miranda surged forward. A palpable thrill coursed down her spine as their wet, naked bodies came together. She claimed Shepard's lips, giving wholly into the tension that had been simmering between them. Shepard's initial hesitation soon gave way to a low moan of longing that was mostly smothered by the intensity of the kiss.

Although her underlying exhaustion was still present, Miranda was invigorated by arousal. Despite the chill of the water, her body burned with a fierce, uncontrollable heat. The kiss had only served to make her ravenous. She tasted Shepard's lips with an intensity that might have scared her at one time, but now it was a necessity. Much like the only other time they had given into their desires during the night on the Citadel, Miranda felt overwhelmed by the contact. As fleeting as it was doomed to be, at that moment it was everything.

Her hands roamed the firm, slick planes of Shepard's body. When Shepard suddenly disengaged from the kiss, she protested by grabbing the back of her neck to keep her close. It was only when she felt gentle fingers against her chest, nudging them apart ever so slightly, that she grudgingly maintained the barest of distances between them.

"Please wait," Shepard said breathlessly, as though it was requiring a great deal of willpower to keep from devouring Miranda. "Are you sure about this?"

There were a myriad of reasons why Miranda should not have initiated the kiss but in that moment all of them were irrelevant. They both needed this. There was only one answer she could offer. "I am sure," she replied fervently.

In the pause, Miranda tried to calm her racing heartbeat, but it continued to thud in her chest with a combination of desire and anxiety. She feared that she was rushing this because it inherently should not have been happening. She was still in a relationship with Nea, nothing had changed that – nor was she sure she wanted it to change. Yet after letting Shepard walk away too many times in her life, she wanted this desperately. She did not want to waste a moment of their time together. Just the mere anticipation of Shepard's touch caused her belly to swoop with anticipation.

"Tell me again, are you sure?" Shepard's whisper was kind and patient, barely audible over the running water.

"I know what this means to you," Miranda repeated the same words Shepard had said to her all those years ago on the Citadel, in another life. "And I promise you that it means exactly the same to me. It always has. I love you, Alice."

Miranda relaxed her hold and instead lost herself in Shepard's gaze. Shepard gently pressed a thumb to her lips, grazing them with the barest of touches. It was a quiet moment to take a breath after the initial intensity.

There was a beat, and then the moment descended into barely contained chaos. Miranda gave herself over completely, just as she had with Jack, fully understanding what this moment meant to Shepard. In a mirror of what happened the night on the Citadel, Shepard pressed her back against the wall. The heat was so fierce between their bodies, that she was only dimly aware of the freezing surface against her skin. This time, Shepard took the lead. She dragged Miranda's right leg upwards and hooked it around her back. Shepard's thigh pressed delightfully against Miranda's core, ripping a drawn-out groan from her throat. Then Shepard's hand forced its way between their slick, writhing bodies. There was no teasing, no need to beg, as Shepard's fingers swiftly parted Miranda's folds. With a decisive thrust, she buried two fingers to the knuckle deep in Miranda's aching cunt.

Miranda heard the corresponding moan from her lips as though she were a mere spectator. It was wanton and desperate. Her entire body pulsed with an all-consuming need. There was a beat as they both lingered in the moment of finally being together, just a mere second in reality, but within it was contained a myriad of shared moments.

"Alice!" Miranda hissed desperately in her lover's ear.

Then she was being fucked. Shepard was fucking her. The Commander's fingers moved firmly inside her as the heel of her hand ground hard against her clit. In those moments, Miranda was intimately aware of Shepard's strength and power. The sensation was everything she had ever imagined.

Even though every movement was governed by an urgent hunger on both their parts, there was an underlying tenderness. Shepard's free hand rested on the back of her neck, the thumb cupping her jaw. It hinted at a different kind of intimacy to come, almost a promise to take things slowly. However, as the chill water continued to pelt against her skin, Miranda did not want slow. She wanted to come for Shepard.

Their kisses became infrequent and increasingly feverish as Shepard's thrusts drove Miranda towards the edge of control. In those moments, everything outside of the shower stall was forgotten. There was only Shepard, her fingers hammering, palm grinding mercilessly, sending her crashing over the edge and into an all-consuming orgasm.

Although she knew that Shepard would be able to feel the walls of her cunt spasming, she wanted to give voice to the release. It was impossible to convey how she felt, nor did she try to censor herself as a string of sounds emerged – although there were few discernible words amid the primal cries. Shepard was in no hurry to slow her movements, drawing out every last sensation until Miranda was little more than a spent puddle pinned against the shower wall.

They remained entwined, even as the heat was rapidly eroded by the chill of the water. Miranda did not protest, not even when her entire body was covered in gooseflesh. Moving was the last thing she wanted – not when Shepard held her so perfectly, still lingering inside her. However, when she started to shiver, Shepard gently withdrew her fingers and shut the water off.

There was very little for Miranda to do other than respond to the gentle pressure of Shepard's touch. She was guided out of the stall and tenderly wrapped into the blanket that had been discarded earlier. Then, again proving that she had lost none of her strength in being brought back, Shepard effortlessly swept Miranda off her feet.

Miranda did not need to ask Shepard to take her back to bed. They had exactly the same intention. Still damp, they resumed their exploration of each other's bodies, although now taking their time. Eventually, eagerly, Miranda took the lead. She dispensed with the earlier frenetic need to fuck as quickly as possible, instead intent on drawing Shepard's pleasure out. She delighted in teasing the writhing body beneath her, making Shepard dance with just the barest touch of her finger or flicker of her tongue.

There was no need to hurry. After all, they had all the time in the Galaxy.

There were no regrets in the aftermath, there was only the feeling of being completely and utterly sated. Miranda savoured the warmth that enveloped her. The cold that had once seemed all-consuming, was now banished. A pair of muscular arms encircled her as Shepard lay pressed against her back. Miranda could feel Shepard's warm, rhythmic breathing on her neck.

Time had long since lost all meaning save for the little happenings that confirmed its existence. The sweat on Miranda's body eventually dried and the warmth between her legs faded, save for a dull, pleasant ache. She spent her time luxuriating in the memories of their lovemaking and fucking. The joy she felt as she brought Shepard to climax the first time. It did not diminish with the second or third time. She remembered Shepard's tongue devouring her, alongside her fingers inside her body once again – unmistakeably claiming her. Miranda did not need to come to the realisation that she always had, and always would be, entirely Shepard's. Of course, she could love others fiercely – Jack and Nea were evidence of that, but Shepard was her soulmate. The individual that some unknown hand of fate had chosen for her.

The thought that this could not last, that it was only even meant to be a fleeting interlude in her life, was always present. However, rather than try and push it away she used it as a reminder to savour the here and now. And commit everything to memory – not just how amazing the sex had been, but the little things. The texture of Shepard's skin beneath her fingers, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, and the sound of Shepard quietly breathing.

"Are you asleep?" Shepard eventually whispered.

"You know I'm not," Miranda replied, hearing her own smile in her voice. It was such a simple little question – the kind asked by lovers who had spent decades waking up or falling asleep next to one another. She remained exhausted, but her mind was too busy for sleep. She stretched her arm behind her so she could caress Shepard's flank. "And if you were about to ask whether I'm okay, then the answer is yes."

There were any number of reasons why she should not be okay. Cheating on her lover was one of them. If she lived through everything and returned to Nea, there was no question of her concealing what had happened. Nea deserved her honesty. The thought that she might lose the asari as a result was something she had to ignore as she chose to remain in the moment.

"Well, I was actually going to ask what you were thinking about," Shepard replied. "Which I suppose is the same thing in a manner of speaking."

Shepard started mirroring Miranda's movements, stroking thigh, hip, stomach, all with a light but deft caress. Miranda could not suppress the delighted hum in her throat.

"I'm thinking about you," Miranda answered with a tone of mock irritation.

It was entirely the truth. Shepard consumed her thoughts. Nothing had changed in that respect, although finally consummating their attraction had shifted everything to another level. With no small amount of agility, Miranda rolled over – well, it was less of a roll and more of a shuffling manoeuvre to avoid falling out of the narrow bed. Now face to face with Shepard, Miranda found the other woman's eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks damp with the remnants of tears.

"I know we can't lie here forever," Miranda said, electing not to wipe Shepard's tears away. Instead, she would watch the tears dry. "But I want to stay here just long enough for it to feel like forever."

Shepard smiled and pressed her lips to Miranda's forehead briefly. "We can absolutely do that."

At some point, Miranda found herself unable to continue holding Shepard's gaze. Still exhausted from her ordeal in the tank, she drifted into a light, contented sleep. They existed outside of time and space, in moments that were both fleeting and unending. While Miranda never fully forgot where she was, it was all too easy to imagine herself in another time and place. They had won the War, Shepard was still alive, and they were together.

Gradually Miranda became aware of a change – even with her eyes closed, she picked up on a change in the lighting. What had been a comfortable semi-darkness, lit by the soft glow of dimmed lights, turned into a jarring alert that could only come from flashing red lights. She opened her eyes, finding that Shepard too had sensed the change. It was unsurprising, neither of them had ever stopped being soldiers. For a moment, neither of them moved – even though Miranda could see in Shepard's eyes that something was wrong.

"Nothing's forever…is it?" Miranda asked quietly.

Shepard shook her head sadly. There was a pause, a lingering moment, before she gently but decisively moved into a sitting position. Miranda stared up at Shepard, watching the play of light across her naked body as she listened intently.

"What is it?" Miranda asked the question even though she was afraid to hear the answer.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that something is very wrong," Shepard replied, calm in the moment just before everything erupted into motion. "I'm sorry, Miranda but we need to get up…now!"