Young

Liara was too young by centuries. She knew what people said of her situation, and the disdain that accompanied such talk wasn't something worth expending the energy to get angry about. Just another to add to the stack of gossip and rumours to ignore:

First was her heritage: Being pureblood in this modern galaxy incurred prejudice solely from the accident of her birth being contrary the political thought of the era. She had no control over that. She didn't even know who her father was. All she knew was that word.

Next was being the daughter of such an esteemed and illustrious Matriarch who sat at the right hand of the Spectre that attacked the Citadel. Her mother's descent into madness – though Liara knew it wasn't voluntary – was the scandal of the millennium among the Matriarch's. She knew that eyes were on her as the pureblood daughter of such a monster, surely with malevolent genes. If that's what Benezia did, it follows that her only daughter would harbour such darkness as well.

And there was another unpopular association: being the paramour of one deceased Commander Shepard, whose memory was somewhat tarnished in political spheres by the 'outlandish' and 'insane' claims of imminent galactic extinction. When a Spectre is denounced so publicly by the Citadel Council, that tends to be taken seriously. Instead of honouring her legacy, it was seized as an opportunity to put the Reaper rumours to bed as the rantings of a delusional Spectre.

The trashing of the reputation of one of their most accomplished officers left the Alliance cold on the intergalactic stage. Human diplomatic relations remained productive, but the known fissure from the military diminished their usefulness as a powerful ally and thus, a human Councillor was some way off from becoming reality.

In some way, Liara felt divorced from Council politics on the edge of Citadel space on Illium. She still traded in the information she gathered but it didn't hold personal interest for her. She was resigned to the notion that the Commander would be vindicated when it was too late to avert the course of history. What little she could do from here or by herself wasn't enough. It was simply too much to confront without Shepard. She knew many of her former crew-mates felt the same as they dispersed when their leader was ejected into the vacuum of space.

It had been years since Liara handed Shepard's body to Cerberus. Her slim hope that the human may return to her had all but evaporated in the haze of endless days and sleepless nights.

There was joy in her life that she didn't think possible in a world after the Normandy was destroyed and the Reaper plot exposed. Despite the impending horrors of galaxy and the horrors present in every day life, Liara found immeasurably happiness by accident.

It was Liara's inexperience that led to the mistake, but she couldn't regret it. Not even adrift in a strange and oft dangerous place with no safety net: no parents, no friends, no companion to share her burden. It was all on her and she blossomed with it.

Liara hung over the side, just watching. Liara couldn't count the hours she had just stared in awe when there was work to be done. Data pads would always wait. These moments go so quickly. This was the only important thing left in her life.

Tiny wiggly toes. Those were her favourite to play with – a tickle on the sole of the foot provoked a delightful squeal that never failed to make Liara smile.

Baby Amilia stared up at her with bright blue wondrous eyes, feet and hands aloft. The giggle from a prod to the tummy melted Liara every damn time.

This was Liara's favourite time of night: main business hours of the day over with; the activity on the trading floor below slowing to a crawl; and the arrival of Amilia with the minder in time for tea.

Liara could tidy up the less demanding tasks left on her list – reading reports, scouring through transaction lists, background tracking – while in the company of her child. Despite the intensity of her business, there was rarely a visitor or call after hours. She would work while Amilia slept off her dinner; and later take a break to play with the baby when Amilia awoke from her nap.

Liara took her lead from her own mother, as she remembered a childhood spent in Benezia's office chambers, at diplomatic summits and travelling to colonies through Asari space. Having a child did not seem to impede Benezia's career or her ability to provide for them both. Liara enjoyed learning from the new people and places – but most of all that even while working, her mother made sure Liara knew that she was the most important person to her, and kept her close.

Liara wouldn't always be in this office above the Nos Astra trading floor. She hoped to find a place in a less fraught environment, with a career that did not carry such dangers – but she had unpaid debts to see to. Liara dreamed of ruins, and taking Amilia to dig sites when she was a little older. Perhaps a nice balance between seclusion and socialisation would suit them both.

She was fortunate that Amilia was such a good infant. She remembered Benezia telling her that Liara was well behaved as a child, so she was sure that came from her. There were other traits emerging that Liara knew in her heart came from the other parent.

Once liberated from the cot, Liara couldn't control the child. Amilia, at just over a year old, was a voracious explorer and adept at her chosen mode of transport: crawling at rapid speeds and negotiating any given terrain with ease. Liara liked to tease the oblivious baby as she scooted about on the floor, calling her 'My Little Mako'. Amilia showed no fear as she dashed about and probed the very edges of her world.

Liara worried so about the vulnerability that Amilia represented. The Shadow Broker was not one to be crossed, and they must be aware by now that Liara was on their trail. To protect them, Liara had invested as much as she could in protection – both in technology and the Krogan who guarded her office, home and accompanied them in transit.

He was a sweet Krogan and the perfect aid for a single mother. He loved children and Amilia had a certain fondness for his rough skin and large hands. He had an Asari girlfriend that he desperately wanted to settle down with. He was constantly working on ways to woo her and would test out his poetic works in progress for Liara's careful appraisal. More often than not, Amilia whole-heartedly approved of his dulcet tones with giggles and applause – making any constructive criticism that Liara had somewhat moot.

He was also very good at time-keeping; making sure that Liara didn't let the hours swallow her whether it was with Amilia or her work. At seven thirty every night he would knock lightly on the door, for fear the baby was sleeping.

This night was no exception. His weathered face poked round the edge of the door frame.

"Time to call it a day, boss?" Charr said quietly, as he looked towards the crib.

"Yes, I think so," Liara agreed. "I haven't done anything tonight anyway."

"Don't think that's true," his voice rumbled softly, nodding at the baby. "I'll bring the sky-car around while you get ready.

"Thank you, Charr," Liara smiled.

Liara wearily gathered the datapads she hadn't gotten to, as well as commencing routine backup then local deletion of her terminal information. Couldn't be too careful in Nos Astra.

She made sure that she had all of Amilia's things in the baby bag, and sat this beside her briefcase.

"Now, baby girl," Liara cooed, lifting her daughter up into her arms. "Years later, when you're in therapy because you have a faint memory of your mother saying that she would flay someone alive with her mind – just know I wasn't actually going to do it. And that flaying anyone would be very, very wrong."

"Depends on the circumstances," a voice behind her said.

Liara froze in place, holding the baby close to her chest. She wasn't sure if this was reality.

Through her pregnancy and in the greater stages of her grief, she often had full conversations with her dead beloved. Sometimes, the red-head would offer opinions and well needed advice to force her out of her worst moments. Often, she would whisper sweet sentiments in Liara's ear when the Asari was at her loneliest.

Those voices had a dreamy quality to them and, as much as she desired to be lost in the fantasy of her companion, Liara always knew it wasn't real.

This – This she wasn't sure of. The voice was almost unmistakable and every inch of Liara's skin responded in recognition; a heightened sensation spread through every pore. This was a very familiar feeling returning to her after such a long time.

Liara turned slowly to face the door.

Shepard.

She was real. She was alive. She was right here.

"Shepard," she gasped, clutching the bundle in her arms tighter as Liara feared that her knees may give way.

"Liara," Shepard murmured.

Liara knew the Commander's eyes were immediately drawn to the babe in arms. Mostly because Shepard almost took a step backwards when she reconciled what she saw before her with possible reality.

Shepard looked exactly the same. Almost a holo image of the last time Liara had seen her alive, before acceding to the order to evacuate without the Commander. There was some facial scarring, but the piercing green eyes, the messy red hair, the freckles on her nose, the pink of her lips: All the same.

Liara wanted to rush to Shepard – embrace her, feel her, ensure that this was not a latent fabrication of her mind. However she couldn't bring herself to set down Amilia. She wanted her close. Just in case.

"Liara," Shepard repeated, with a crack in her voice. The Commander attempted a casual shrug. "So, how have you been?"

Liara couldn't help but laugh softly.

"I've been well," Liara replied, the laugh still present in her voice. "And you?"

"I've been Not Dead for a few days now," Shepard say blithely. "It's working out OK."

Liara shook her head with another smile. That was her Shepard. She relaxed and turned to place Amilia down in the crib.

Once free of child and upright again, Liara turned to find the Commander upon her.

Shepard hooked one arm around her waist and cradled her face with the other. And without further breath, Shepard met Liara's lips for a desperately passionate kiss that weighed heavily with all of the solemn longing of stolen time leading to rapturous reunion.

Once parted, Liara clung onto Shepard. She needed to know Shepard was real – and not lose her balance as her head spun delightfully.

"Shepard," Liara said reverently. "You're here. You're alive."

"And you're not a very good information broker," Shepard teased. "I thought you would know."

"Must have missed that one," Liara whispered, running her hand over the features on the face of her beloved.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Shepard said quietly. "It looks like you've been busy."

They both looked down at the blue child, now making exuberant noises for attention, punctuated by high-pitched squeals to accentuate the point.

"I suppose she just gave it away that she's yours," Liara said in hushed tones, almost afraid to meet Shepard's eye. "She can be rather noisy and excitable just to get attention."

"Mine?" Shepard said softly, her lip quivering with overwhelming emotion. She pulled back from Liara, raising her hands to her face. "She's mine?"

"Of course, Shepard," Liara murmured, reaching down into the crib to allow Amilia to grab her finger, hoping that would sate the child. "There has only ever been you."

Tentatively, Liara raised her eyes from Amilia to the child's father.

Shepard was now bent over: her hair over face, hands pressed into her eyes and body racked with tremors.

"Shepard?" Liara said fearfully.

Had it been too much? Liara should have been more gentle, she thought. There is no right way to give that sort of information, but perhaps she had been a little too abrupt. Liara had needed Shepard to know from the first instant she could that it could be no one else's baby but theirs.

The Commander pulled herself up – an ecstatic smile offsetting her blotchy, tear streaked cheeks.

"She's mine," Shepard repeated, barely containing the disbelief.

"Yes, Shepard," Liara said kindly, holding out a hand to her.

Shepard took a few steps forward, placing one hand in Liara's and timidly held out the other to the baby.

Amilia quickly latched onto the human's finger, directing it to her mouth to chew on while she kept a firm grasp on her mothers blue digit for safe-keeping.

"How?" Shepard asked, the awe evident in her hushed tone.

"My fault," Liara admitted.

"There's no fault," Shepard said vehemently, unable to take her eyes from the suckling babe. "There's nothing wrong here."

"I know," Liara said gently, squeezing Shepard's hand. "I meant that I'm not a very good Asari."

"Don't know about that," Shepard murmured to herself, using her free fingers to tickle the baby's nose. That near caused a riot, as Amilia relinquished hold on both parents to try and catch these errant pests in front of her face. The baby let out a series of fearsome noises to show she meant business. Shepard bit her bottom lip hard as she struggled to process the feelings flooding through her.

"I didn't have much experience... any experience. And I went too far in the meld. I took too much of you," Liara trailed off. "Turns out that is what you're supposed to do if you want one of these."

"Now you know," Shepard said wisely.

"I was so in love with you I couldn't help myself, or control it," Liara said, biting her lip as she realised how childish that might sound.

"Was?" Shepard questioned, now looking back to Liara with a hint of a pained expression.

"Am, Shepard. You must forgive my tenses, you have only been Not Dead a few days," Liara teased lightly, moving her hand up over the Commander's arm to her chest, resting on where the human heartbeat lies. "It's incredible. I had hoped... But I don't know if I ever truly thought..."

"You were the first person I wanted to see when I woke up," Shepard told her sincerely. "There's... a lot to tell you. About what's happening and-"

"Cerberus. I know," Liara nodded. "I gave you to them. They said they could do it and it was my only option... For two years I wondered if I made the right choice. If I should have laid you to rest..."

"You'd have saved Cerberus a lot of credits, for sure," Shepard joked.

"I mourned you. I don't think I allowed myself to grieve fully because..." Liara stopped; her throat closing up as she let painful memories floor back. She forced herself to focus on the woman in front of her. "I wanted to keep you alive for her."

"You been telling her about me?" Shepard smiled.

"Everything..." Liara said. "I didn't want her to grow up not knowing who her father was."

Like me, Liara left unspoken. But she didn't have to say it. Shepard knew.

"So do you know when this happened? I'm guessing it's not like, a culmination of all our... Like you do it enough and then-" Shepard jerked her head towards the baby.

"No, Shepard," Liara smiled. "I know exactly when."

"Not... the time in the Mako?" Shepard said, her face scrunched up.

Liara understood why she might not want the conception of their child to have happened that time. Not that it wasn't explosive, and spontaneous, and inherently wonderful – but that it was rather messy and embarrassing.

Well, Liara was embarrassed. Shepard didn't appear to be as she strode out of the vehicle on the engineering deck, nodding to Wrex. And Garrus. And Ashley. And the Procurement Specialist. And even Engineer Adams and Tali who had emerged from the Core to see what the fuss was about.

"No," Liara said, enjoying the reminder of that encounter. "The night after the Battle of the Citadel. Our second time together."

"Oh, that's a good one," Shepard grinned knowingly.

"I think I was more confident. Perhaps the adrenaline was a factor. And it was..."

"Perfect," Shepard finished. "Definitely perfect."

Heavy footsteps interrupted their bliss as the Krogan appeared in the door frame. Charr looked suspiciously at the human in armour near the crib, his brow furrowed.

"Doc – everything OK in here?" Charr's gruff voice said, his hand reaching for his weapon.

"Wonderful, Charr, thank you," Liara beamed. "This is Amilia's father."

"Oh. Thought you were dead," the Krogan said. "Uh... Good you're not."

"Thanks," Shepard said, amused smile on her lips.

"I got the car out front," Charr told Liara.

The Asari nodded in response. Charr was more in tune to subtlety than most Krogan Liara had met – perhaps it was his study of poetry. Regardless, he knew that he best wait for them downstairs to give them privacy.

Liara slung her and Amilia's bags over her shoulder and turned to Shepard. Liara's heart soared to see Shepard – here, impossibly – cradling their baby with such tenderness. Shepard had already figured out the feet tickling trick, making Amilia extra wriggly in her strong arms.

"Would you like to come home?" Liara asked softly, drinking in the sight of her two beautiful girls together at last.

Shepard broke out in a grin so wide it ached.

"I would love nothing more."