Alright, so this fanfic is three years late. I don't know if the fandom is still alive because the latest game was released ages ago, but here goes nothing. I just wanted to write about Shepard and Co.'s life after the Reaper invasion, but nothing too angsty.

I'm going for a Citadel DLC-like feel where Shepard and the crew interact and basically act like dorks together. There will be a little angst because it's Mass Effect (c'mon, guys), but it will mainly be about the fluffy feels and giggly feels. Follows the Indoctrination Theory ending because I think that's one hell of a plot twist, which I want to expand on later.

"Commander Shepard has been located."

Footsteps follow the drone's glow into the pile of rubble, rapid and persistent. "Fucking shit," Jack loudly swears, half of her hair falling out of her ponytail and her favorite jacket torn to near uselessness. Her side is swimming with medi-gel and she really needs a nice drink, but that doesn't stop her. "Your thing's god damn bugged, I don't see Shepard here."

Tali's eye twitches, although it's not visible from outside her suit. "Chiktikka's not wrong, Jack, she has to be around here somewhere." She clutches her bag of medi-gel close to her chest. They'd need it if or when they found their commander.

"Commander Shepard is here." The drone tells them, moving closer to a heap of concrete and an overturned Mako. "Life signs are low, but functional. Injuries-"

"Out of the way!" Jack growls, the headache pounding in her head. It's times like these that she proves why she's called the strongest human biotic- even juiced out, she merely raises both her arms and bits of rebar and junk fly towards the air, followed by the wheel of said Mako and a tall slab of what used to be part of a road.

Tali drops her bag. "Keelah..."

The familiar swish of the med bay's doors wake Shepard up from her pleasant nap, the first one she's had since forever. She reasons that it must be the drugs doing their magic, knocking her out whenever Doctor Chakwas comes by with that syringe of hers.

"Shepard?" Comes an amused voice, one that brings much comfort to the commander.

Shepard doesn't waste the opportunity to move the only thing she can—her right eye. Her left one is currently wrapped up nicely, like the rest of the left side of her face. She wishes she could move anything, but that's not possible in her current situation. A hefty neck brace keeps her neck in place, one that she thinks must make her look very silly.

As expected, Liara is there with a tray of her lunch in her hands, looking at the fallen magazine right beside the Spectre's bed. 'Fornax' is printed in large letters across the cover, a provocatively dressed asari posing sensually taking up the majority of the space.

"I dropped it." Shepard sheepishly says, her voice raspy from her thirst. A half-full glass of water is on the table next to her. "Damn IV won't let me move my hand."

"Is that the same copy that's been sitting on your bed for a month?" Liara chuckles, putting the tray on her bondmate's lap. She reaches down, taking the slightly crumpled magazine into her hands. A giggle. "The 'Vibrax Mark-II'?"

A wicked grin crosses Shepard's face. Liara recognizes it as the grin Shepard used to have back after she conquered the Shadow Broker's ship, right before the commander lifted her up onto the console and fucked her right there, without any regard for the multitude of buttons she pressed while doing so. Liara remembers receiving a rather confused message from an agent who said he received a message from her that's filled with nothing but random letters and gibberish. "I think the Shadow Broker can track one down, if she wanted to. It doesn't matter that the galaxy's still a mess, right?"

Liara chuckles as she puts the magazine aside, turning her attention to the tray on her bondmate's lap. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes seem like a luxury, considering Earth's state. Most people are lucky to get something fresh from the kitchen, but most people aren't in a relationship with Dr. T'Soni. "Feeling frisky already?" She sits on the remaining empty space by Shepard's side, picking up the glass of water.

"Hey, how many times have we slept together since the invasion started?" Shepard pouts. It's about the only thing she can do right now. "Once, and we waited until the night before that laser tore me to pieces." She stops to take a drink when Liara holds the glass to her lips, raising her right hand to stroke the asari's cheek. "That's unacceptable!"

Nothing comes up but the stump that ends right below her elbow, neatly wrapped with a fresh layer of bandages. Doctor Chakwas must have changed it when she was asleep.

"This is going to take a little getting used to." Shepard huffs when what's left of her right arm only comes into contact with air, not the smooth blue of Liara's skin. "Can't eat, can't flip my porn magazines, can't do anything." It would be better if she could walk, but apparently, everything under her waist is absolutely shattered to bits. She still feels them throbbing now. The things she'd do to run her thumb over the smooth skin. "Hey, Liara?"

Liara carefully scoops up a spoonful of mashed potatoes, bringing them close to the lips of the Alliace's most decorated war hero yet. "Yes, Shepard?" She makes sure to position the spoon close enough so the woman can comfortably eat without craning her neck.

Shepard chews thoughtfully, far too used to military rations to complain about the bland taste of her food. "Can I have a beer?" She tries to push herself up with her legs, only to remember that her left one only reaches down to her knee.

Another thing to get used to, now that she has the time.

Liara pauses in the middle of cutting a piece of the meatloaf to give the commander a short chuckle. She leans down to her level with a smile, placing a short kiss to the Spectre's pale lips. She can't wait until she regains the blood that she's lost, so the natural pink of the human's lips can return and chase away the pasty sickness of her skin. "Once you're well enough, I'll get you all the beer you want." She serves the meatloaf fast enough to prevent the woman from complaining.

Choosing wisely, Shepard chews on the warmed piece of meat instead of whining for the third time about the lack of celebratory alcohol. And then she wonders if their reserves even exist or if it was somehow destroyed thanks to the bumps and dents the Normandy suffered during the last moments of the war. Just as she's about to cuss off the Reapers for ruining things even in their deaths, the silence of the room is broken.

"Dr. T'Soni, I have placed an order on the Sirta Mobility Assistance Chair." Comes a robotic voice from Liara's omni-tool. The volume of the voice and it's sudden activation makes her nearly drop her spoon in surprise. She really ought to ask Tali to tune Glyph up. "Representatives from the Sirta Foundation have also agreed to barter the custom prosthetics for one thousand units of food rations."

The human raises an eyebrow, smirking knowingly. "I've only been awake for two days and you're already giving me gifts? I'm flattered."

"I have deducted a total of forty five thousand credits from your account to cover the expenses, Dr. T'Soni." Glyph elaborates, his lilted voice artificially cheerful as always.

Shepard has to check her ears to see if she heard him right. "Forty five thousand?" She repeats, looking to the broker for clarification.

"Yes." Liara is surprised by the commander's shocked tone. "Shepard, you spent twenty five thousand credits for an aquarium VI." She makes a note to show her the amount of credits she's spent on model ships and pornography magazines these past two months.

"Well, I have a lot of fish." Shepard reasons, defending herself. "And they've all got different food, and then I'd have to adjust the salinity, whatever that means, and all this other shit that I don't get. They would be dead without that VI." She dramatically raises her left arm, mindful of the IV needle still jabbed in her.

"Well," Liara repeats, crossing her arms in a sense of finality. "We all know that you'll be pulling your hair out soon enough, trying to drag yourself out of bed and such." At that, she scoots her chair closer to the bed. Her elbow uncomfortably digs into the bed as she leans into it, making sure that she remembers to requisition a more comfortable bed for her bondmate at once. For the moment, though, she simply closes the distance between the injured human's face and hers.

The slight hitch in Shepard's breathing doesn't go unnoticed. She can see how badly she wants to look at her as her green eye strains to find her own blue ones, only to be prevented by the braces that hold her neck. Liara finds her hand stroking the only part of Shepard that's uncovered by her bandages—the right side of her face. By some miracle, only a small scratch has tainted the one half of the beautiful face that's been the subject of her dreams since even before Ilos.

The first touch of their lips is accompanied by a combined sigh of relief, gentle and reassuring in their soft brushes. Liara's fingers thread through the strands of iconic red hair as she takes Shepard's lips between hers. For once, their kisses aren't rushed and hungry, but slow and patient. They have time for everything now, no more Cerberus troopers dogging their every step, no more Reapers looming over them.

They're finally free.

Liara's eyes blink open when she feels the small touch of what remains of Shepard's arm on her side, too short to touch anything else. "I wish I could touch your face." She wistfully sighs.

The asari's eyebrows furrow at the words. "Oh, Shepard..." She moves herself towards Shepard's intact left hand, nevertheless rendered immobile thanks to the IV that she hates so much. No encouragement is needed for the commander to open her fingers and feel Liara's cheek. Even after all this time, she still can't get over the firm yet supple blue as fingers trace the outlines of her crest. The small bumps and ridges are familiar to the Spectre's fingers, even after the little time they had together.

"Can I move to your room, Liara?" The question doesn't catch the maiden off guard, but the hopefulness in it does. "Please?" The commander repeats, when the only reply she gets is a thoughtful look.

Liara can't think of the last time she heard the forceful human say 'please'. Part of her attributes it to the drugs that flow through her veins, but she knows that's not it. "Of course, Shepard." She replies, wondering if the standard issue hospital bed will fit there. "But please don't try to leave your bed before your ribs are healed."

"But I want to sleep with you." Shepard herself is surprised by the plea in her words, mourning the loss of touch as Liara lifts herself up. "Really sleep with you, without me accidentally waking you up because I needed to fuck around in the war room, or you calling your agents at random hours for updates."

The tug in Liara's chest tightens at the desperation in her voice, something rarely attributed to the war hero. She's Commander Shepard, after all. "I'll ask Doctor Chakwas to make preparations, okay?"

Shepard nods, relief etched in her smile.

"Shepard, how are you doing?" Liara speaks again, but before her bondmate can answer, she speaks again. "Really?"

A short laugh, tired and disbelieving. "Honestly? It still hasn't sunk in yet." Shepard's eyes doesn't leave hers, only flitting away when she raises her amputated arm to check if it's really gone. She wiggles her left leg a bit, clenching the toes that she doesn't have anymore. She tries to bend her knee, but of course nothing is there. "I actually woke up this morning, thinking about practicing my my rifle and doing some bag work with James, and then..." Her brow crinkles, just it did after she came back from Tuchanka, after the Cerberus raid on the Citadel. After Virmire.

Liara's forehead presses to Shepard's, closing her eyes as she feels the slow but steady breaths that ghost over her skin. "I thought I was going to lose you for good, Shepard."

"Have some faith, Liara." The human says with mock hurt, forcing down her frown. "I'm me, after all." The trademark bravado gives the Shadow Broker comfort, although she distinctly recalls the finality of the words spoken to her before the charge to the Crucible. "Besides, didn't I promise to have little blue babies with you?"

Pleasant images fly through Liara's consciousness, of Shepard burning their daughter's breakfast and ordering takeout instead, of the little blue bundle of joy in her arms for the first time. She had thought those images were nothing but an impossible dream, but maybe not—no, definitely not anymore. "Papa Shepard," Liara says out loud, chuckling at the sound. "She'll be so proud."

"And she'll have her uncles and aunts. Maybe Jack will end up teaching her one day." She wonders. "Imagine her trying to dodge curfew with mommy Shadow Broker on the job."

A beautiful giggle escapes Liara's lips, the first she's had in a long time. She climbs into the bed slowly, careful not to elbow Shepard in her raw wounds as she lies next to the human, reclining her head comfortably over the commander's bicep. She has to remind herself not to reach out for her fingers, at least not until the prosthetics arrive. "You really want to have a baby?" Her voice is low as she resumes meshing their lips together, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah." Comes her sure reply, nuzzling into the asari's crest. "I'd go insane if I retired, though."

Of course. "We'll find a way." Liara promises, lips on the marine's cheek. She's the Shadow Broker, too—a good one who likes her job. She knows she wouldn't know what to do if she were to sit around in a house all day.

"I'll have to get better first before that." Shepard chuckles, realizing that she's getting ahead of herself. "I'll want to do the classic stuff, y'know? Buy you chocolate late at night when you're craving, stuff like that. Can't really do that when I'm bedridden."

Liara considers it for a bit. "If you're bored, you can help me sort out some information in the terminal."

"That would be great." Shepard smiles. She'll probably end up snooping around to find out what extranet websites her friends frequent, completely invading their privacy, but privacy itself doesn't exist within the crew of the Normandy, anyway—EDI has some very disconcerting reports of Garrus and Tali's activities in the little den the turian claimed as his own.

Swish.

Liara is very much curious when Shepard's good eye widens to the size of a dinner plate at the sight of EDI casually walking into the room. The AI's body has a few visible chinks and scratches, but it's nothing that she can't handle—she's EDI, after all.

That's exactly why the Shadow Broker knows something is wrong when she sees the bottom of Shepard's lip tremor. Something suddenly catches in the commander's throat.

"Good afternoon, Shepard." EDI's voice is amiable as always. "I would like to see how you are doing."

"EDI?" Shepard's face pales. "You're alive." She has to say it out loud, as if she can't believe her eyes.

EDI exchanges looks with Liara, both equally confused. "Yes, Shepard, I am fully well." Her voice is hesitant. She distinctly remembers having to tell this to Shepard several times before. "My body sustained collateral damage, but none that are lethal. Although I do control this body, my main battery resides in the Normandy's—"

"I know." Shepard grimly says.

She crosses her arms. "Is there an issue, Shepard?"

"I saw you die."

Okay, okay. I said not much angst and serious stuff, and I intend on keeping my promise. You'll see in the next chapter, if there is one.

I mainly posted this story to see if the fandom is still alive and kicking or dead, 'cause... well, the last game came out three years ago and the new one isn't out yet. Anyways, let me know if you're reading this and want to continue, because I'm not sure if I should do that yet. Thanks!

Details on Shepard's injuries will come up in CH2, if I decide to write it. Also, Shepard messing with the Broker terminal and being up to no good. One other question: little blue babies or no little blue babies?