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strainofthestress · 7 years ago

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Fanfic: Reunions, Citadel Pt. 3

Hey guys! So, this one I felt like I actually found somewhat of a groove on! I'm still trying to treat the Liara/Traynor pairing I have with appropriate delicacy, I really like it, and really want you guys too! So, I figured it was finally time they moved things along a bit. Also, I totally wanted to write these characters going to a WW2 style club. In my mind, there are a lot of similarities between WW2 and the Reaper wars.

As always, I love reblogs! Reblogs, messages, and likes really help me to know what you guys want, as well as keep the enthusiasm up for writing. I’ll admit, with my daily schedule being a lot more busy recently, finding the motivation and time for writing has been difficult. So, while I don’t mean to shamelessly plug, I’m shamelessly plugging: your feedback helps me keep writing.

Alright, I’m done. Enjoy!!!

Shepard’s Apartment, 1930

“Shepard! How was your workout?”

Tali stood up from the weapons bench in the oversized bedroom in the apartment, pieces of a shotgun lying disassembled on the table before her. Shepard was standing in the doorway, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, his shirtless torso glistening under the lights of the room - Tali’s eyes lingered for longer than normal. The downstairs bedroom had been turned into Shepard’s personal gym, years of military and N7 training dictating that, no matter how relaxed he was, he could never afford to give his body a chance to rebelliously atrophe. Not that Tali was complaining, certainly not as she watched the way his torso moved as he walked into the room, still out of breath.

“Good, good. Think I’m getting a little weaker, but that’s what shore leave is for, isn’t it?”

A slightly nervous laugh came from behind the mask and glowing disk of Tali’s helmet. Shepard walked into the room, throwing his workout towel onto the bed before stripping down, unaware of the avid observer he had directly behind him watching his every move. He turned the shower on, stepping into it as he talked to Tali, running the shampoo through his hair and relishing in the consistently hot water – such a nice relief from the Spartan conditions of even the newest military starships.

“So… what do you want to do for the rest of the evening?”

“I don’t know. I’m as free as the dust on the solar wind.”

“You’re what?”

“Have I still not shown you that vid?”

“What vid?”

“Remind me, next time I say that, to show it to you. It’s essentially the movie of my adolescence.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. The question still stands, what to do tonight.”

“Hmmm, let me see.”

Tali pulled up her omnitool, swiping through popular locations and activities nearby as Shepard finished with the Shower. While Shepard toweled off and stepped into the closet, Tali found a particularly interesting entry.

“It says here there’s a particularly popular bar location nearby! Looks like it’s within walking distance, on the other side of silverspun.”

“Oh? And what makes this so popular?”

“Well…” more omnitool scrolling “it looks like its favored by a lot of soldiers back for shore leave, says it has a ‘Human 20th Century’ theme to it, whatever that means. Food is rated well… they serve dextro and levo… and looks like drinks are half off tonight.”

Shepard had walked out of the closet and perched himself on the bed, looking over Tali’s shoulder at the entry, his eyes quickly scanning back and forth over the text and pictures.

“Well, half off drinks and a bunch of soldiers? What could possibly go wrong?”

Tali rolled her eyes, standing up to lean herself on the doorway while watching Shepard, the Spectre now sorting through his clothes to pull out his liberty uniform.

“I have absolutely no idea. Not like you would either.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Vas Normandy, I seem to remember there was a time on Illium when we were fighting the Collectors that you found yourself rather intoxicated as well.”

“That was an entirely scientific endeavor.”

“Oh really.”

“One hundred percent. I needed to see how my new suit breathalyzers were working. And the emergency inductor port.”

“That straw-looking thing?”

“It’s an emergency inductor port, John. We’ve been over this.”

“I still say it’s a Straw.”

“Well, when you design complex modifications to some of the most advanced envirosuit technology in the galaxy, you can call it whatever you want to.”

“Then it will be called a straw.”

Tali rolled her eyes again, deeper this time, and Shepard laughed at her exasperated sigh as she stood up and walked back over to the weapons bench, leaving John to fiddle with the belt of his liberty uniform.

Silversun Hotel, Room 3215, 2000 Hours

“Liara? Liaaarraaa?”

Traynor’s sing-song call sounded through the room as she knocked on the door, the layout now quite familiar as she let herself in. The room was, as always, in perfect order, Liara’s scant list of belongings neatly tucked away in every cabinet, closet, and shelf in the place. While Traynor herself appreciated a certain degree of cleanliness, she could not help but admire the disciplined spotlessness of the Asari’s living spaces at all times – I guess you grow into that after a hundred.

Liara walked out from the bedroom, this time in pink sweatpants, a white silk shirt and, most notably, lime-green fuzzy slippers, smiling radiantly as she entered the room. Though seeing Liara in this state was becoming less and less uncommon for Samantha, it still took her by surprise to see the business-like, aloof, secretive Asari from the Normandy transformed into such a friendly, kind face. While on the one hand it made her wonder what her friend was like before the war, before shepard; it also brought to mind an image of Liara standing in the same outfit instructing galactic politicians how to maneuver their governments to avoid an intergalactic war. A snicker rose and was quickly suppressed.

“Samantha! How nice to see you!”

“You too, Liara. I like the slippers.”

“Thank-you. A gift from Tali, though I admit I do question her sense of color sometimes. They’re quite comfy, though. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to… you know… go somewhere?”

The effort it took to get the words out of her mouth clearly showed on Sam as her eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concentration and confusion. Silence hung between the Asari and the Human for a heartbeat or two, but while it was only the time Liara needed to take a breath to make a response, Sam nonetheless heard the silence of centuries and barely gave Liara time to think about what had been asked before she continued.

“You see, there’s this cool club I found which supposedly has an Earth, 20th century theme to it. And, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually got a history minor in university, which means I know a decent amount about that time period. So, I’d really like to go, but nobody likes going to the club or even a restaurant by themselves, so I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

Liara smiled as Traynor continued as fast as her mouth could move, barely stopping herself from panting for being out of breath at the end of her plea. The asari’s smile broadened as Sam looked up, her eyes full of something roughly akin to a sad child asking for a treat.

“Of course, Sam, I’d love to come with you. Besides, I think I’ve figured out what you’re doing.”

Like a trapdoor Traynor’s heart plummeted at the words, her mind searching for what her heart already knew about just what exactly she was doing. With sweaty and shaking palms she wracked her brain for anything which Liara could find out, her conscious thought skipping over all the blue-tinted dreams and the times she woke up having accidentally fallen asleep on Liara.

“And… and what might that be?”

“You’ve done such a good job of trying to hide it, but I think I finally figured it out.”

Heartbeats hung in the air like helium balloons.

“You want me to be your… how do humans say, wingman?”

Sam’s brain missed a beat as her brain processed the unexpected word. While she didn’t know what word it was exactly that she was expecting, she knew for a fact that ‘wingman’ was not it. Her mouth opened and shut as she tried to piece together a response, a deep sense of regret filling her, despite her utter ignorance as to its cause. Laughing slightly at her friend’s apparent confusion Liara continued.

“I know humans have a custom of taking a friend with them to a bar to find a… companion, for the night. If I am made to understand correctly, this is usually somebody that they’re quite close to, their best friend. And yes, Sam, I would love to be your wingman.”

As Liara continued Traynor got a hold of her senses, reigning in her flapping mouth and pulling her brain back to the domain of comprehensible, conscious thought. As she spoke, the anticipation which had turned to disappointment transformed again into frustration and she found herself trying not to let her voice slip to aggression/

“You know, Liara, I wasn’t going to ask that. Truth be told, I’m not really looking to pick just anybody up tonight, but thank-you for the offer. Would you still be open to come as a friend?”

It was now Liara’s turn to furrow her brows and squint at Traynor as though examining a specimen. It was clear from the movement of her eyes that the destruction of her assumed solution to Traynor’s recent behavior was puzzling to her to put it mildly. While still struggling to reconcile all the observed instances she could remember – the seats too small, the conversations too long, the pleasant nights continuing clear to morning and the times waking up having accidentally fallen asleep with her friend – she still managed a response.

“I would be… glad to do so. Give me a minute to go get dressed then we can leave immediately.”

Excerpt from “Alliance Uniforms in the Reaper Wars”, Page 273

Due to the capture of Earth during the initial Reaper attack, it became necessary for the Alliance Military to relocate their recruit training facilities from Earth, for obvious reasons. Their location of choice ended up being a set of empty lots on the tip of the Citadel arms, in Zakera ward. While they had already located “Gunner’s Mate A-School” on the ward, this was a facility designed to handle 3,000 personnel a year, rather than the 3,000,000 recruits gained during the war. As such, the “Alliance Recruit Training Command, Citadel” was formed.

With the large influx of Alliance service members, often with little more than the clothes on their back and a will to fight, the alliance felt it necessary to develop a “Liberty Uniform” – a uniform neither as formal as the Alliance Class Alpha Dress Uniform nor as militarized and Rugged as the standard Star Ship Service Uniform. The Result, was the Alliance Class Bravo Dress Uniform, colloquially known as the “Liberty Jacket”.

This uniform utilized the same trousers and shoes as the Alpha’s, however the jacket was changed to be both more comfortable and less formal. It was a waist-length coat, being fastened around the waist by a large belt similar to the Service Uniform’s. The side panels were made of black, elastic material for wearer comfort, and the front and back panel were made of standard Alliance Twill blue fabric. It was closed via 3 internal closure magnets, and sported the symbol of either the Alliance Navy or Alliance Marine Corps on the right breast. While the front panel was to be worn closed by regulation, service members commonly opened it in casual settings, such as social affairs and the barracks, to cool off. It had a stand-up collar, and was a long sleeve uniform, with no sleeve rolling authorized.

Rather than the standard Gold trim around the seams and for the logo, the alliance opted instead to utilize a cheaper slate grey fabric, giving the uniform a much more subdued appearance, deemed more fit for public socializing. Officers wore their rank on special grey shoulder boards, and enlisted service members sewed their rank onto the upper part of their sleeve, as on their Alphas. The uniform was worn with a black Beret, displaying the Systems Alliance Logo, but this was an often-omitted item, with service members claiming that “if [they] only had to wear it outside, then they should never wear it on the citadel, since the entire space station is inside.”

There were few variations on the basic uniform, but one notable modification was the addition of a red and white stripe down the white sleeve by the N7 corps, a change which – while never officially sanctioned nor allowed – was allowed to continue nonetheless.

This uniform was seen most commonly around ARTCC, with recruits often having no other clothes to wear besides their other uniforms. Closer to the presidium and Alliance Docks, the Service and Dress uniform was more common – service members often saving space by neglecting to pack the uniform. Furthermore, many service members took liberty where they could, often taking advantage of a 4-5 hour port call, and thus never taking the time to change into the appropriate liberty uniform.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2100 Hours

The club was stuffed in one of the more crowded streets this part of the Citadel, sandwiched between two larger complexes, its doorway no wider than 10 feet and with no windows leading in. The brilliant blue holo sign which stuck into the street with the image of a classic pin-up girl underneath was almost lost amidst all the sound and light of a modern causeway. None of this reduced the popularity of the joint, however, the line of service members and their respective dates waiting to get in stretching so far down the lane that it was the other, larger establishments that tended to get lost behind the human wall of impatience, youthful enthusiasm, and frenetic compulsion to enjoy what could be the last moments on the Citadel.

Inside, a small hallway about 15 feet inside, windows of soldiers’ clubs from WW1 clear to the modern era lining the wall. The hallway opened up to reveal a large rectangular room, at least 50 feet deep and 40 wide with the hallway exiting in the bottom right corner. Immediately to the right of the exit was a classic bar, the counters made of polished glass over brushed aluminum, glasses hanging from modern post racks as the Turian, Human, and Asari bar tenders jumped left and right to accompany all the orders coming through the tenants. Young men and women scrambled over each-other, shoving and cajoling to present their credit-chits to the bar tenders, those sitting on the round post-stools getting pushed and manhandled by the throng, not maliciously but certainly without much consideration for their well-being.

The neons from the bar shone onto the polished black floor as the room transitioned to the table-seating area, approximately 20 round tables of varying sizes positioned around the small space. Bathed in a warm white light from lighted globes hung above, with red accent lights shining from the corners, patrons of every race and age could be seen laughing, eating, enjoying what looked like some wonderfully prepared food. Tables ranged from grizzled veterans, sitting more quietly than the rest swilling around old memories in their whisky glasses, to young recruits, boisterously bragging about their basic training exploits and the honors and glories they would seize when the reapers finally got ahold of them. The din was nearly deafening, every person screaming to be heard over the next, but the broad smiles and boisterous laughs gave the tumultuous sound a wholesome air of, if not happiness, at the very least excitement and friendship.

Beyond the tables was the dance floor, wide and covered in what looked like actual wood, a rarity on the Citadel. The band-stand was right next to the dancefloor, and on it an odd fusion of earth 20th century instruments and citadel races serenated the space with swing music. There were Turians on the upright base and guitar; Asari on the piano, a clarinet, a saxophone, and two trombones; Humans on trumpet and the remaining winds; and a very energetic Hanar skillfully playing the drums. They wailed on big band classics, their interpretations far from straight reproductions, but the energy and atmosphere of the century long past being brought nonetheless to this space station club. Patrons stood in groups of two to ten around the tables, conversing and

Throngs of people danced and undulated on the dance floor, some swinging as they had seen in videos, others skilled in the dance, and others just moving as the music seemed to compel them to. It was a great mixing pot, even more so than the tables, as dancers trading partners beamed at complete strangers as they all sought to escape the war which raged outside. Alliance soldiers danced with Asari commandos, Turians two-stepped with Batarians.

Lining the walls of the club was additional seating, small booths with dividers between them where the more reserved guests could find their seats. The constituency here was slightly older than the rest of the club, though largely no different than the rest of the club: soldiers and survivors looking for solace amidst the sundering of the galaxy. But instead of yelling at each other across the table they leaned towards each other, conversations in confidence staying so even with the volume. They watched the dancefloor with interest and bemused smiles, memories of their own dancing supplanting the people in front of them, memories moving and swaying with the melodies as they once had themselves.

The effect was not lost on Shepard and Tali as they walked in, Shepard sporting the subdued blues and greys of the Liberty uniform that many of the other soldiers in the joint were wearing, the red and white stripe on his arm getting a few raised eyebrows and hasty salutes as he and Tali walked towards the bar. They managed to find two tables, the combination of a Quarian (of whom she was one of five among the roughly 150 people inside) and an N7 quickly garnering enough respect and curiosity to win them a couple of stools. Drinks soon in hand, Tali and John turned and watched the spectacle before them from the bar.

“Well, Tali, this place certainly doesn’t lack for interest.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like it?”

John laughed. “Not at all, I think it’s great. I just never thought I’d hear swing music in a Citadel club, that’s all.”

“Is that what this is? I’ve never heard it before, but I think I like it.”

“Yeah. Some people just call it classical, but really it’s swing. Big Band, if you wanted to get picky. My dad used to play it on the freighter. He had learned the clarinet for long space journeys, said it kept some of the deep-space restlessness away. Ultimately, there wasn’t much music to play from the modern era, so he bought a big book of Benny Goodman songs and just let them wail.”

“I never knew that, John. Is that why you picked up the piano?”

“Not quite, but it’s probably why I was open to it.”

The piano player in the background jumped into a particularly aggressive lick as Tali spoke, both she and John looking up to watch as they heard the army of notes march up and back down the keyboard in melodious order.

“So, can you play that?”

“That? Sadly, no. I might have had time on deployments, but not that much time.”

“I’ll bet you could if you tried.”

The two watched as the band played, the musicians making eye contact with one another as the song pushed forwards with high-tempo energy. Tali spoke first.

“This is nice to see. Everybody relaxing for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that Quarians aren’t too good at. We’re always worried about something – which ship is going to fall apart next, where to get our next load of supplies, where to go on pilgrimage, even who married who on the ship, that we forget to just… relax, sometimes. It’s nice to see everybody taking some time before heading back out there.”

John smiled, finishing his drink in one last swig, before placing it down on the bar, standing up and grasping Tali’s arm. She looked at him, her eyes growing slightly with surprise as he beamed at her. It was a sight which she was not as used to as she’d like – her N7 outfitted in his dashing blue and black uniform, smiling down at her in an expression of absolute and utter enjoyment. Someday, after the war, this will be the norm, not the surprise. John walked Tali out, through the tables, a few service members recognizing the two as they walked, standing up, reaching out to give the legendary commander a reverent slap on the back, until they were both on the entrance to the dance floor. He put an arm around her waist, another gripping her hand and holding it mid-way up their bodies.

“Well, then let’s make sure this Quarian remembers.”

With that they started moving to the music, Shepard’s steps and movements at first foreign to Tali but quickly something she could respond to, at least somewhat gracefully. They moved into the crowd, getting lost in the sea of blue and black jackets, smiles seeking to forget the war for a night of loud music and good company, joining the masses dancing as the world fell apart.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2130 Hours

“Well that wait was long enough.”

“Indeed. But by the sounds of it, well worth it.”

Sam and Liara walked into the club, Sam fiddling nervously with her uniform as Liara walked elegantly in her dress, the outside a deep iridescent purple, a center panel of a textured red-pink fabric running from the top of the high collar clear to the hem. She had kept her usual gloves, the tops reaching to the middle of her upper arm, but the dress was shorter than most of her formal wear, stopping mid-calf rather than full-length. While the change gave her a less formal appearance, it served practical purposes as well – The Shadow Broker being all too aware of the number of assassinations and fights which happen in nightclubs across the Citadel. A far ways from the naïve archeologist of years ago, or even the fledgling information broker on Illium, Liara now found herself fighting the compulsion to look over her shoulder, her eyes shrewdly squinting in each new room she entered as she identified its exits, entrances, and security systems. A subcompact pistol was strapped to her thigh.

For the large part, though, her newly developed near-paranoia rarely prevented her from enjoying herself, and this was no exception. Her face lit up at the loud din of laughter and joy, her foot tapping imperceptibly at the alien music which had such a strong rhythm and energy of life about it. Sam trailed behind her as the Asari slipped through the crowd as silk through fingers, elegantly swapping her credit chit for a small martini glass of a rainbow colored drink, a sip of which only broadened her smile. Sam was slightly lost among the crowd, the crowd of soldiers, sailors, and marines around the bar absorbing her in a sea of black, gold, and grey. Eventually, though, the Specialist pushed her way past and stood with Liara on the outside wall, watching the scene as they found one of the few cocktail tables distributed around the seating area and set their drinks down, leaning in to talk to each other.

“You said this is Earth Classical Music, Sam?”

“Yes. Well, no. Well… kind of. Technically classical is a few hundred years before this. But a lot of people don’t differentiate, so by most people’s definition, this is classical, yes.”

“I admit, I quite like the sound of it. It has a nice energy to it.”

Sam watched Liara as she listened, her cerulean eyes closed as her head bobbed softly to the clarinet solo which was flowing across the audience like a particularly energetic stream. Her elegant shoulders moved in the dress, shifting her entire form as small movements built into a miniscule dance, more an undulation than a full dance, but energetic and appreciative of the sounds nonetheless. Sam felt her stomach turn over as she watched, the low nerves which she had been feeling from the moment she knocked on Liara’s door returning in full force, filling her stomach with butterflies and gymnasts.

Why on earth am I nervous? This is a nightclub, relax! Just, let loose.

True. So do it.

Do what?

Relax.

I can’t.

Why not?

Because… well, I don’t know. But I can’t.

Perhaps this is an answer to the first question? Why you’re nervous.

Shut up.

Liara opened her eyes, turning to look at Sam, who hastily took a sip of her drink before smiling broadly at the Asari, though the creases at her eyes spoke to the force it took to smile. A quizzical look came over T’soni’s face before she smiled at Sam, an earnest look of enjoyment and joy in her eyes that rarely graced them aboard the Normandy.

“Come on Sam, you look tense. I do believe that’s my job.”

“What, being tense? I’m not tense. I’m fine. Very relaxed.”

One of Liara’s eyebrows raised as the corner of her mouth curled up in unabashed amusement.

“Specialist Traynor, you are worse at lying than even The Commander. It doesn’t even take an information broker to know when you’re not telling the truth.”

Sam looked intently into Liara’s eyes, the raised eyebrows and challenging expression eating away at her resistance until she closed hers, laughing softly through her nose as she conceded with a hung head. Her lips curled up in a small smile as she looked up, Liara’s expression becoming even kinder and friendlier than before. Sam’s stomach did a few more somersaults for good measure.

“I know, Liara. I just… don’t know what has me so tense.”

“That is puzzling. Couldn’t be the entire galaxy burning under the threat of total extinction?”

Liara laughed as she spoke and Sam followed suit, but it soon became apparent that Traynor’s laugh was hollow, hiding deep thought and desperate introspection as she searched herself to figure out just why exactly she was tense.

Before her search could come to fruition, Liara walked forwards, grabbing her hand, sending electricity through her entire body. Startled, Sam looked up at Liara while her stomach went crazy and she found a slight haze invading her brain and obscuring her thoughts.

“Finish your drink, Sam. It’s impossible to stay tense when dancing.”

Smiling, almost uncontrollably, Traynor grabbed her glass and finished it all in one go, swept away by the Asari as soon as her glass was safely on the table. A change had thoroughly come over Liara, the normally reserved if not quiet Asari now energetic, excited, full of energy and enthusiasm. Quick steps took Liara and Samantha to the dance floor, where Liara stood on the side, eyes squinting as she watched the other dancers for 20 seconds before grabbing Traynor, putting both arms around her and perfectly mirroring the dance of the couple besides them.

“Wow, Liara, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody learn to dance so quickly.”

“It’s pattern recognition, a staple in both archeology and information brokering. Dancing is just a series of steps repeated with few variations. Identify the base steps, start with those, then add flourishes…”

To punctuate her sentence Liara grabbed Traynor, dipping the human deeply and holding her there before quickly bringing her back to her feet. A tingling sensation came over Traynor as she saw a slight mass effect field materialize around her, Liara’s motions effortless as Traynor dropped in mass. Samantha laughed as she was whirled back up, grabbing onto Liara again as the two continued dancing. Sam’s steps were clumsy, untrained, and while Liara’s were as well they were becoming competent much faster than Sam’s. On more than a few occasions Sam found herself tripping on her own feet or Liara’s, the Asari’s arms grasping her tighter to catch her fall. While she didn’t admit it to herself consciously, the feeling of Liara catching her was definitely a comforting one for her.

“I have to say, Liara, you seem much more… energetic, tonight.”

A quizzical look pulled an eyebrow up as Liara guided the two through a change-step to the newer, more energetic song behind them.

“How so?”

“Well, normally you’re… relaxed? No, that’s not right. Quiet? No… Composed. I guess that’s the best way I would describe it. And tonight you’re… well, I don’t want to say you’re not composed, you always are, you just are acting so…”

“Young?”

“That’s… not the word I would use to describe it, but…”

“It’s alright Sam, I know what you mean. I used to go to dance clubs a lot when I was younger, still in college. I stopped once I began working in the archaeology field, and there was never really time as an information broker. To be in one again, all the energy, all the joy, the music… it makes me feel at least 35 years younger, and I’m not even that old!”

A tinkling laugh from Liara lit up Traynor’s mind as she laughed too, the two continuing to dance as their feet got more and more experienced, Traynor’s trips and mistakes becoming less and less frequent. As a break in songs came Sam reached up, un-doing the top fastener of your jacket, the top corner of the closure panel folding down to reveal the lighter inner-lining, as much to make her seem more relaxed as to cool off.

“Is it ever weird for you?”

“Is what odd?”

“Being with humans who are so short lived when Asari live so long?”

Liara’s face darkened momentarily before an expression of thoughtfulness overtook the cloud. Her eyes squinted as she worked to put her response into the correct words, and after a few moments she responded.

“Not really, no. While, yes, Asari live longer than almost any species, we experience time in the same way as everybody else. Thus, while we may have more life, we live the same moments as you do, see the same things. An Asari at full maturity is much the same as a Human or Turian at full maturity, so while I may have more years behind me than you or Joker or Garrus, I am no more or less wisened. Though perhaps Joker was a bad example to use.”

Samantha smiled, the answer relieving some of the tension which she had felt at the beginning of the night as the two women gripped each other, swaying with the music as the hours of the night melted away.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2330 Hours

“Liara?”

“Shepard?”

“Traynor?”

“Tali?”

The four looked at each-other, dumbstruck as they stood in front of the bar, four drinks being placed in shocked hands. The shock wore off quickly and the four walked over to the seating area, grabbing a seat as they sipped their drinks. Shepard spoke first.

“What brings you two here?”

Traynor looked at Liara, who was beaming, though her cheeks were more blue than usual as a combination of the alcohol and the exertion of dancing. It truly was as though a small transformation had come over the young Asari, and Traynor couldn’t help but smile whenever she saw it.

“Oh, you know Shepard, just wanted a night on the town. You two?”

Tali responded. “Same. Found this place on my omnitool, thought it would be fun to try.”

“Us as well!”

Quickly the conversation continued, Shepard talking to Traynor and Liara to Tali. Samantha and Traynor laughed at the club, finding out they both knew more about swing music than the average patron as they threw names and songs around, both lighting up with each new song the band played in a string of classics. While the two talked commonly, they knew each other more on a professional level than a deeper friend level, though many of those barriers were broken down through their conversation by common interest and social lubrication. They laughed at the new recruits that flooded the establishment, their high-and-tight haircuts and enthusiastic youthfulness, told stories of their own times gone by. Tali and Liara meanwhile caught up on what had happened since they had last seen each other, the three days since the battle with the clone keeping both apart by busy schedules and occasionally differing interests. They caught up quickly, leaning close to each other and laughing earnestly and pleasantly.

After some time, and with no intentional signal, they all simultaneously decided to switch partners, the seating arrangement changing quickly as Shepard moved to talk to Liara and Tali to Traynor. Tali and Traynor had interacted closely on quite a few projects, and were fond of each other, but their friendship was not nearly as deep as that between Tali and Liara. Nonetheless, they found there was plenty conversation in the easy-going environment of the night.

“So, Sam, what brings you out with Liara?”

“Oh, you know, just going for a night out…. As friends.”

Traynor added the last bit hastily, immediately mentally cursing herself for adding such an awkward annex to a perfectly fine statement. Tali picked up on the timing as well, an eyebrow raised silently inside her helmet, Samantha seeing the silhouette of one eye become slightly taller than the other.

“Oh really?”

“Honestly, Tali, I swear! I don’t have a lot of friends on the crew, and most of them are off doing more… drunken, activities. Liara’s nice to go out with, more level-headed, mature. I did most of my drinking in college, thank-you, no need to repeat that again.”

“Is that really all, Sam?”

Tali’s voice was laden with accusatory sarcasm, her helmet angering forward as she levelled Traynor with a shrouded glance which would be improved only by glasses seated at the bridge of her nose.

“Tali! Yes, it is! Of course it is!”

Traynor gave Tali a light slap as she smiled at the ludicrous suggestion and laughed nervously. The two continued talking, but as they did so Traynor’s mind began running in the background, an internal dialogue of which she was not aware beginning to bring a conclusion of which she had been unaware for some time to the surface. Meanwhile, Shepard and Liara’s conversation had taken a similar turn.

“… so then I called him a ‘Big Stupid Jellyfish’ and stormed out with Javik. The look on everybody’s face… priceless.”

Liara shook her head with amusement as she covered her mouth, the laughter from the story threatening to forcibly remove her drink from her mouth.

“Oh shepard… you never cease to amuse.”

“Thank-you, thank-you. I try, you know. To be amusing. So, what brings you here with Traynor?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Liara, I know you don’t normally go out. I feel like you spend most of your nights in with either a book or some top secret report or the other which could destabilize the entire galaxy.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Liara’s indigo blush gave away that, not only did she know exactly what Shepard was talking about, but knew that he was entirely correct.

“So, given how obvious it is that I’m right, what exactly brings you out with Ms. Traynor?”

“She… invited, me out. Rather than being as reclusive as I normally am, I figured there’s no harm in letting myself live a little bit.”

John’s skeptical squint told Liara just how much he was buying of her story, and she suspected it amounted to an unfortunately small amount. Suddenly, his face turned into a wide Grin, and he shook his head while endearingly clapping Liara on the shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll grill you about this later.”

Looking to the rest of the table, John continued.

“Anybody up for more dancing?”

Zakera Ward, Outside of Coming Home, 0210

The four friends had poured themselves down onto a bench after the club had closed, the stream of pairs and partners scattering, some looking for more activities before calling it a night, others heading straight back to their homes. A steady stream of blue and black uniforms was flowing back towards the barracks, a collection of young men and women, faces flushed from the excitement of the evening, untested and untried by the trials they couldn’t conceive of that were waiting for them. As sailors and marines have always done they traveled in groups of three to five, wildly gesturing and gesticulating as they told stories from their first tour of the night club. A few were walking with a partner, whether they walked in with them or just out, their heads bent together, quietly talking and laughing with each other. Outside the door there was a group of couples, hands joined as one was pulled inexorably back to service and the other back to the rest of their life. There were surprise kisses, long hugs, longing backwards glances, all the hallmarks of the end of a wartime night out. There were some officers and NCO’s among the mix, but they all separated themselves from the group, aware of the situation their rank would put themselves and the rest of the soldiers in.

Shepard had unbuttoned his jacket entirely, a red flush filling his cheeks from both the dancing and the drinks – he had lost count. Traynor had followed suit, but donned her beret in an odd act of formality, the headgear falling off her head at a cockeyed angle which only served to improve her image of a mildly disheveled devil-may-care attitude. Liara’s gloves had long since come off, tucked neatly in one of Sam’s pockets, her face also flushed and a constant grin affixed to her face. While she was not entirely drunk, she suspected that over the course of the night she had consumed more alcohol than she had in a while, and the world was assuredly spinning faster than it should to her eyes. While Tali’s complexion was hidden behind her helmet, her speech was decidedly slurred, the fabric wrapping her suit slightly off-kilter.

Shepard turned to Liara, smiling as he spoke, his speech quiet, as if discussing matters in confidence, but nonetheless slightly slurred.

“So, wait, you’re telling me you two fell asleep on each other? Multiple times?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. A few.”

“And you watch movies together on a couch. The same couch?”

“Yes, Shepard, I’ve told you this before.”

“And drink tea while talking for hours on the Presidium?”

“When I can spare the time, yes.”

“I’m not the only one who sees it, am I?”

Liara looked at Shepard with a slightly inebriated quizzical look, but eventually comprehension dawned slowly in her eyes.

“Well, I thought I did. I thought Samantha was trying to get me to be her wingman, a companion humans have for night’s out of special confidence and friendship, no? But, upon asking her, she said this is not the case.”

Shepard’s laugh was louder than he had intended, and a few people nearby looked over. He kept laughing quite hard, soon bent over and clutching his stomach through the hard chuckles. Slowly, he regained his composure.

“Liara! No, that’s not it at all!”

“Well then, Commander, I fail to see what it is you’re hinting at!”

Shepard shook his head, equal parts amazed, slightly disappointed, and amused.

“I don’t want to ruin it for you. Just… keep an open mind, alright?”

Tali, meanwhile, talking to Traynor, was a little bit less subtle.

“So, you’re telling me you two cuddle while watching movies, lose track of time with each other, and sit oddly close together even when there’s plenty of space? You go out to nightclubs together, arrange breakfast dates, and have spent the majority of your free time on the station together?”

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong with that?”

Tali shook her head, muttering “Keelah” under her breath. When she looked up, she put a hand on Samantha’s shoulder.

“Do I need to spell this out for you, or are you going to figure it out on your own?”

“Honestly, Tali, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Tali stared Samantha in the eyes as she spoke.

“Sam, you love her. It’s as clear as a misaligned drive core!”

Traynor stared at Tali in disbelief, her brain slowed slightly by the beverages she had enjoyed throughout the night, but the internal dialogue which had been trying to surface through the music and dancing finally broke through to the surface of her conscious thought.

Wait, what?!

Yeah, haven’t you figured that out yet?

No… No! I hadn’t! I just thought we were… that we… I don’t know what I thought!

Tell me it doesn’t make sense and we’ll reevaluate, but… come on Sam. You know it’s true.

You love her Sam.

I guess I do…

You totally do.

Who would have thought?

Clearly not you!

“I’ll leave you with that one, Sam, I think Shepard and I are going to take a car home.”

Traynor was shaken from her internal thought processes as Tali spoke to her. Shepard and Liara were standing next to them, Tali’s arm around Shepard’s waist and his around her shoulders. Liara stood to Traynor’s right, and suddenly she was aware of the miniscule distance between them. She turned to Tali.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Of course. Get home safe!”

“You two also. You coming to Joker’s party?”

“You mean the one at your guys’ place that he invited everybody for? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Wonderful. Good night!”

The two pairs of people walked away from each other, heading in opposite directions. Liara and traynor walked side by side, mere centimeters separating their hands. Liara turned to Traynor, speaking first.

“Samantha, do you… are you…”

The two stopped shortly after starting, joining the group of couples saying goodnight outside the club. Liara, being slightly taller than Samantha, looked down slightly as the two looked into each-other’s eyes, neither being aware – and certainly not acknowledging – the fact that barely two centimeters stood between them.

“What, Liara?”

“Nothing. Shepard just… said something to me. And it had me thinking.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Which is alarming. I’m normally the one who knows more.”

“I know, it’s a bit annoying, if I do say so.”

“Is it? Either way, I had just… I don’t know.”

Concern clouded Traynor’s face as she watched the confusion on Liara’s. It was so unlike her to lose her words that the pauses and breaks in her speech immediately concerned Sam. So often had she heard her voice, full of conviction and direction espouse facts which no person had any right to know, that to hear her now so confused and puzzled made Sam immediately uneasy.

Samantha’s face too was furrowed in the brow, Tali’s comments sitting heavily in the back of her mind as she mused over them. Memory after memory replayed in her mind’s eye as she reviewed the evidence, testing the hypothesis against the observations like any good technician would. What she found was consistent with Tali’s claim, from her and Liara’s interactions to her own feelings and reactions to Liara, but it was a prospect which was so large, so unusual for her, that she didn’t quite know how to process it.

It wasn’t that Traynor hadn’t loved in the past, there was a string of broken hearts and summer flings behind her which attested quite the opposite. She had experienced her fair share of hook ups and break-ups, of going steady and breaking things off. But through all of it, no matter how much she ardently denied it, her kind-hearted nature to adverse to the concept to let it be put to words, they had never been able to keep up with her. She had dated in college, but they could never understand what she was working on. She had played the field in Alliance R&D, but none of them had shared her vision. For her, work was her life – a character attribute that played as much as a defect as a strength depending on the moment. And for her partner to not be able to keep pace there was a fatal flaw. But here? Here was an Asari whose intelligence and competence Sam questioned if she could keep up. Self-assuredness had rarely been a problem for her, but her own abilities were thrown into doubt in the shadow of The Shadow Broker. And not only that, she was kind, caring, too big hearted for the galaxy she kept together.

Liara had hung her head, the silence in the moments Sam had taken to think ringing in her ears. While she would not describe herself as lost or confused, Shepard’s comments had certainly left her disoriented. Her heart was something she had learned to guard carefully. From the jokes and cajoling of the archeological team to the ruthless world of the information broker, she had earned bruises and scars which had wizened her more than she would like. There had been times, in her younger years, when she had loved and laughed openly. But with Saren, the Reapers, the Collectors, the galaxy falling to flame around her, those times had seemed long past. Sure, her friendship with Sam had grown, and it was one of the most pleasant things about her life on The Normandy, but she struggled to admit the point it had gotten to. She felt odd, a deep guilt, to be building a friendship, perhaps more, hopefully more, in a galaxy so stripped and stained by pain. More than that, she wasn’t certain if that’s what it was. It had been so long since she had opened up like that, short in years but eternities in experience, that she questioned even what she was feeling. Liara didn’t like not feeling.

Traynor looked up at the Asari, Liara’s head bowed as her eyes were closed in thought.

“Liara?”

“Yes, Samantha?”

“I have a question.”

“I think I do too.”

Traynor steeled herself. Three breathes, then ask, Sam. You need to know, now. After what Tali said… there can be no more room for doubt.

The two spoke over each other.

“Liara, is there anything between us?”

“Samantha, are you interested in me?”

The two took a step back, the shock at the similarity of their questions obvious in their surprise. Liara spoke first.

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“Sam, please?”

Samatha sighed, taking a deep breath.

“Alright. Liara, is there anything between us? Like, not friends? Beyond… friends?”

Two cerulean eyes looked at Samantha, the human’s face quivering as the stress of the question, and the risk of the answer – both affirmative and negative – hung in the air over her head. Liara’s face broke into a smile, not as wide nor as joyous as Samantha would have hoped for, but open, vulnerable, honest. The reply was honest, tentative.

“You know, Sam, I’ve been asking myself the same thing. To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never been good at dealing with things, feelings, like this. But were I to guess, I would say yes, there is.”

A breath of relief came from Sam, who was surprised to learn that she had even been holding it. She looked at Liara, an immediate flame lit inside her heart once the caution was paid off. She felt the heat of joy and love grow inside her chest, her mind hopelessly trying to temper it with the voice of reason, but the warmth spread through her nonetheless. She realized just how long it had been developing, the relief of hearing Liara’s response releasing the emotional tension within her like a bow string. Her smile was open, wider than her mouth could comfortably form, and her eyes lit up, sparkling with the image of Liara in front of her.

With little notice she jumped forwards, her hands behind Liara’s head. She pulled her in for a kiss. Liara squeaked softly in surprise, not ready for the reaction, her body tensing as she felt Sam pull her forwards. In a fraction of a second Liara relaxed into it, taking notice of the smooth texture of Sam’s lips on hers, the warmth of them, the sweet taste they left.

Not a second later Samantha released Liara, opening her eyes as she panted, out of breath. Liara blinked a few times in surprise, her mouth agape with shock before forming into a bashful smile, her cheeks becoming the color of oceans as she recovered what bits of her composure she could. Traynor’s cheeks were flushed as she spoke.

A few young recruits in the background hooted and cheered, Traynor smiled and laughed as she turned to them and waved, one of them mounting a park bench and yelling “Oo’rah!” as loud as he could before his comrades, laughing, pulled him down.

“You know, Liara, that’s good enough for me.”

“Clearly.”

The two women laughed, turning to walk back to their hotel, shoulder to shoulder with their hands brushing into each other. Silence sat between them, neither awkward nor comfortable, but pleasantly optimistic. After a few moments, Traynor spoke.

“I know you need some time, Liara, I think I might too. But, if there is anything here, I’d like to find it. Can we take things slow, see where they grow, and keep an open mind?”

“I think I’d like that, very much. It’d be nice to have something beautiful in all this.”

The two walked, chatting intermittently, back to their hotel room. Slowly, their hands found each other, just as they had.

#Mass Effect #mass effect 3 #mass effect fic #mass effect fanfiction #John Shepard #Commander Shepard #shep x tali #Tali Zorah #mshepard #Talimance

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