A/N

Re-upload. Written 01/11. Much gratitude to my past reviewers.

They had always known that it would be this way, but it was a discussion that they had both fastidiously avoided. Every other aspect of their life together seemed so completely perfect that to admit to any sort of inadequacy would have been a betrayal to their illusions. But as the doctors had continuously stressed to the soldier over the years, she was working on borrowed time – and as friends had reluctantly reminded Liara, there was always a cost to happiness in relationships like theirs - there was always a time when you had to let go.

If she was honest with herself, the very idea of something like death staking a claim on Shepard a second time seemed positively ludicrous to Liara. No one controlled Shepard's destiny but herself - hadn't death realised that? She did not play by the rules; she made the rules play for her. If she should die, she would only return stronger and more determined than before; the Reapers had learned this the hard way.

That is why when the doctors had come to tell Liara T'Soni that her bondmate was dying, she had simply scoffed and replied, "I am certain that you must be mistaken."

She doesn't move as sprightly as she used to; she tires more easily from the stresses of a continually demanding life and wears lighter armour, begrudgingly, to counter that fact. But when Liara places a supportive hand on Shepard's shoulder, the gentle force turning her, the middle-aged warrior grins impishly which instantly sheds her of forty years. Her deep, green eyes are full of the same hunger for the asari as they were years before, but now shine with a love too profound for anyone other than themselves to comprehend.

Their love-making remains as heated and passionate as ever. The spectre's eyes rove over her lover's naked, firm body, her hands exploring it with furtive touches as if for the first time. Liara has learnt much of her bondmate's desires over the years and effortlessly elicits guttural moans between the pants of her lover's erratic breathing. Her skin now feels relaxed underneath her touch, but a lifetime of activity and physical training has left the soldier with a network of prominent muscles that the asari traces with her soft, moist lips, giving special attention to her lover's lower stomach before trailing her line of want southward. With each meld, they uncover a little more of one another, untangle another strand of their lives' tapestries and weave the threads together in their own beautiful artwork. Liara still struggles with the emotional turbulence of Akuze; the intense feelings of fear and pain that burst forth unbidden from the spectre's mind from time to time. But when they intrude and Liara recoils in terror, Shepard holds her tightly, their naked forms entwined in a delicate embrace, with nothing between their bodies and minds to obstruct their perfect understanding of one another.

"I bet you regret settling for me now," she sometimes jests in such situations as they lie together in the stillness of their room. She often uses humour to diffuse tense situations and Liara's understanding of human jokes has improved immensely over the years.

The asari smiles weakly in response when she does and threads her fingers through her lover's. "No. I knew what I was getting into," she replies softly, pulling Shepard's arm around her body more tightly. "I wanted you anyway."

The asari had evolved a rather philosophical outlook as their coping mechanism. They would cherish the time, no matter how short, they had with their partners, focus on the present and mentally revisit the past as often as they willed. They would take numerous partners over their one thousand year lifespan, and even more lovers; each one stealing the focus of the moment but each in turn treasured in the vast expanse of the asari's memory.

Liara had never considered herself a very good example of her species. She had recognised from a surprisingly young age that she was not all that she should be and that that would never change. Standing nervously before her mother on Thessia, staring into those eyes that voiced such disappointment, the maiden knew then that her life would not follow the path of the average asari; she would make her own way in the universe and it would be a peaceful, gratifying existence.

Well, being half right wasn't so bad.

Meeting Shepard had of course been a life-changing experience for her. Had it been anyone else who dropped down from that broken elevator shaft and ambled into view with that stupid, amused expression, she doubted any of them would have made it out of those ruins alive. Indeed, as time on the Normandyadvanced, as she observed how the then commander blazed through her enemies with untamable fire, the asari came to believe that she would not have followed anybody else, because nobody else could have succeeded where Shepard did.

It was for this reason that the maiden felt an irrational pang of anger listening to the young Salarian doctor drone on so mechanically about "the patient" and her "frailties". Chakwas would have never made that mistake. The silver haired doctor had been gone a good fifteen years now, in the end her heart giving way, but that sort of thing was natural in humans. However Shepard was a force of nature; words like "frailties" simply could not be applied to a person like her. She was the Saviour of the Universe, the Vanquisher of Reapers. She was a constant beacon of hope and she couldn't die. Not really.

She's always on the move, always doing something. Liara despairs at her restlessness when they decide to take a shore leave together – Shepard insists on calling a "holiday" a "shore leave"; it makes her feel less guilty, Liara assumes.

Even so, the Spectre still seems drawn to a crisis. Things still explode around her and sentients of every race still solicit her for aid. Of course, she obliges, belaying her own objectives for the sake of another's and of course, she still finds herself neck deep in trouble.

"I do not think I shall forget this anniversary," Liara informs her bondmate curtly from across the med bay, flinching as a doctor wraps her wrist in a bandage.

Shepard smiles sheepishly under the glare of the irritated asari. "Memorable is what I was going for!" she protests, before wincing as she receives another stitch. "Ow!"

Their relationship is not perfect, Liara thinks to herself, watching her partner berate the clumsy nurse with angry hand gestures and dismiss him with an even meaner scowl; but she wouldn't change it...not for anything.

The maiden would never forget the feelings that flooded her senses as she watched the Normandyburst into flames. She'd have crashed through the viewport of the escape pod, forsaking her own life, and followed in a heartbeat had the others not restrained her. Instead, she could do nothing but sit there helplessly, unable to speak, quietly dying from the unknown.

And when her worst fears were confirmed on Omega, she didn't want to believe it, not for a second. She didn't want to know that her lover had struggled violently to take her last breath; that her dying moments were spent alone above an alien world, in the cold and in the dark. Liara had promised to be with her every step of the way. But she wasn't. She had failed and she had let Shepard down.

So when the chance came to redeem herself, the asari could not hesitate. She had to give the commander a chance, even if that meant working with the devil. She owed her that much. But it was more than that, and she knew it well. No matter how hard she tried, she could not escape that gaping void that cried through her being. It wasn't that she wouldn't let Shepard go; it was that she couldn't let her go.

Months stretched into years, but the pain remained fresh; each day of her life a testament to the sacrifice Shepard had made. Her assistant had told her that it was unnatural to mourn so long. The Normandy crew had scattered, the family bonds broken without their Commander there to unite them. And then one day, as if by divine providence, there she was, standing in front of her – alive, electric – the Shepard who saved worlds. Her Shepard.

Liara's confession came quickly but not easily and when the Commander meekly smiled, she almost seemed relieved. You did the right thing, Liara. In that moment, her sins were absolved and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she would never stop loving this woman.

Only once had she feared that the difficulties of a relationship such as theirs would manifest themselves in doubt.

"You're just a child, Liara!" she had snapped in frustration, before sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of her nose with eyes clenched shut. Liara had stayed silent, completely stunned. Never had her lover referred to the maiden in so condescending a way; never had she been so cruel. Yes, their last mission had involved a close call, but she was here, standing before her, in perfect health.

"I do not understand why you would say such a thing," she had finally replied, both affronted and dejected.

"Barely an adult and I can't count the number of times you've nearly been killed. Because of me." Shepard had started pacing at that point, her frustration and confusion agitating her usual calm demeanour. "I was –am– b being selfish," she continued, still avoiding making eye contact with the asari. Finally, she stopped, and looked directly at her. "I'm an accident waiting to happen. You don't need this, Liara."

"I need you," the asari replied.

And she meant it.

She awakens to find her partner's half of the bed empty, but still warm. She hoists herself up amongst the blankets and rubs at her eyes, unconsciously smiling at the soft whimpering drifting from through the other room. Getting to her feet, the maiden pads across the carpeted floor, the light from the full moon catching the antique furnishings of the room and throwing wild shadows over the curves of her naked body. She pauses in the doorway and leans against its frame, watching her bondmate pace about the room.

"Sh-sh-sh," she hears her say, shifting the warm bundle and bobbing it gently up and down on her shoulder. "That's it, no more screaming...any more and mummy's going to go into orbit." Noting the series of babbles, Shepard manoeuvres their daughter to see her face. "Yes she is...yes she is." The Spectre kisses the baby's nose before replacing the bundle against her shoulder and resigning to bouncing her up and down again. "I know what youwant," she whispers after a few moments, carefully leaning over the cot and laying her daughter on her back. "You want a story, don'tcha?"

Liara uses her shoulder to push off from the door frame and swaggers into the room, her lover oblivious to her presence.

"...and your mummy, being a very silly mummy, had gotten herself trapped in the biiiiiiig Prothean force field underground." The soldier laughs lightly as her daughter "gahs!" quite distinctly at the revelation. "That's right. Silly mummy! Luckily for her, me," she points to herself, "and auntie Ashley" she mimes pumping a shotgun, "and uncle Garrus," she raises her hands to her mouth and wiggles fingers to imitate mandibles, "showed up to save her blue backside from almost certain Geth death. But I'm never going to have to worry about that with you, am I? No...because you're never ever, evergoing to touch crazy ancient alien devices you don't understand, are you?"

"Imparting some worldly wisdom to our baby daughter?" Liara asks from behind the woman, folding her arms and raising a brow to affect some semblance of annoyance.

"Ack, busted," Shepard whispers to the baby asari, before turning to her wife, lover, bondmate and friend. Strands of hair fall over her tired eyes as she lifts them to Liara's and she flashes that cheeky grin with a shrug to the shoulders. "I thought you'd appreciate me giving her a history lesson," she says, capturing one of Liara's hands and linking their fingers.

"Oh, is thatwhat you call it?" she says playfully with a smirk as Shepard begins to lean in, her eyes focussing on the smooth azure flesh above her collar bone.

"Mm-hmm," she purrs, still closing. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two next, what do you think?"

"Gah!"

She freezes for a moment, noticing the way Liara's shoulders fall in disappointment and the way her lips curl in a sheepish smile. She leans back and glances at the source of the interruption.

"Are you sure she's not Joker's kid?" she teases, turning to face the cot and sliding an arm around her partner's waist.

"Quite sure," Liara smiles, gazing down at the wriggling bundle. "She has your eyes."

Her retirement from the Spectres had been a bittersweet affair. Shepard hadn't wanted to admit that her aging body simply could not keep up with the hectic lifestyle that serving in Special Tactics and Recon division provided, and had initially airily dismissed the suggestions to relinquish her position.

However, as the strains began to show, her friends had gathered to convince her that she deserved some time to herself for a change; to relax and to pick up a hobby. A silence had stretched out amongst the visitors after advancing such suggestions, one which was quickly filled by the eruption of hysterical laughter; presumably the thought of Shepard collecting stamps had been too ridiculous to take seriously.

But even Jack had encouraged her in her own little way. 'Don't be a fucking idiot, Shepard.' The soldier had laughed heartily at that – Jack had predictably not aged gracefully at all. She may have grown her hair out and started to wear more clothes as her years advanced, but her boorish nature remained as frightfully exposed as ever. Rather unforeseeably, however, she had formed a close friendship with Miranda, which meant that when she came to deliver her advice, the ex-Cerberus biotic had tagged along to warn her old commander that she "would not be putting humpty dumpty back together again."

And so, the soldier conceded, finding solace in the giddy thoughts of never having to deal directly with the Council again. The Normandy would serve as home, albeit a home armed with a powerful Thanix canon and populated by a rather extensive extended family. Liara had by now acquired her own taskforce of worthies who, to their credit, assimilated with the rest of the loyal crew effortlessly. For years, they continue living adventurously, using Liara's connections to dig up new leads on galactic threats, racing across the skies to thwart injustices.

But her body is weakening and cannot keep up with her impatient spirit. It is not long before she is relegated to her bed, from which she still continues to work away, surrounded by datapads and terminals.

"Hey..." she says hoarsely from her bed, a slow smile creeping across her lips as she blinks heavy eyelids. "Why so blue?"

She still can't be serious, not even on her death bed; like always, she stubbornly refuses to accept she is beatable so makes light of the situation in the only way she knows how. Liara bites at her bottom lip, feeling her eyes well with unshed tears. She looks at the woman, hair thin and grey, cheeks gaunt and skin creased with lines of age and experience. This woman, this saviour of the universe, is her lover, bondmate, wife, mother of her child and friend, and she is wasting away before her eyes. It is unbearable to witness.

They tell her it is pneumonia and that they have done everything they can.

"How are you feeling?" she asks regardless, smiling weakly, but only for Shepard's sake.

"Could use a drink," she croaks before adding with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "And a kiss."

The Asari gives a shallow laugh despite the growing urge to break down and cry. She leans forward and presses her smooth, full lips against a thinner, drier set, the experience just as intense as it had been all those years ago.

"Mmm," Shepard's purrs stretch out into chesty coughs and splutters as she gasps for air in between. "God damn," she wheezes. "What a way to go. Beaten by a...a damned cold."

Liara glances away, swallowing the lump in her throat and biting back on the whimpers that threaten to escape her lips. "Don't be silly, Shepard," she says bravely, forcing a smile, but not daring to meet her bondmate's eyes. "You're a fighter. And anyway, I'm not letting you go anywhere."

The soldier smiles at that, but it is weak and knowing. "Where's our little girl?" she asks, a distinctive tremor touching her voice.

"Probably running circles around Ashley at the shooting range... she's a better shot than her now." She does not have the heart to tell her that she won't be back in time to say goodbye.

Shepard chuckles breathlessly, imagining the elderly marine and godmother to her child left chasing after another Shepard, even after she was gone. "I think she's going to be a handful. I know I was at that age."

"At that age?" Liara says, her tone suddenly playful. "Shepard, you still are."

"Hey!" she grins, her eyes blinking slowly. "Don't make me... get out of this bed to...to kick your ass, T'Soni - you know I will."

A smile ghosts the asari's lips - she has no strength left to laugh, even though she knows it's what Shepard wants to hear. If only you couldshe thinks silently, lowering her eyes solemnly to the floor.

"It's getting...harder...to breathe," she wheezes, rubbing absently at her chest. For the first time, she looks alien to Liara - she looks afraid.

"Shepard..." Liara whispers, clenching her eyes shut as tears threaten to fall. She is watching her love from the escape pod again; watching her tumble in the void, a cruel distance stretching between them.

"Hey..." she says, her voice is quiet, weary. She lifts a trembling, wrinkled hand to Liara's smooth cheek which is instantly captured in a blue, younger grip. "Don't," she pleads, suddenly sounding very distant. "Not...not when I can't hold you."

Her heroic struggle to breathe is obvious now, with each intake characterised by a rasping wheeze. "Promise you'll stay clear of Prothean forcefields," she teases, gazing up at the ageless beauty. "I refuse to spend another two years on an operating table to come back and save your ass."

Liara tries to laugh but the sound that escapes is hollow and empty. Her voice quivers, threatening to crack. "I promise," she replies with a nod of her head, watching Shepard's eyelids grow heavy. "Shepard?" she whispers, the warrior showing little acknowledge. "I don't want you to go" she breathes, clenching her eyes shut again and squeezing her lover's hand tightly as its grip begins to weaken.

A soft smile flickers across the soldier's lips. "I won't be a stranger," she mumbles softly.

Liara watches as the woman's chest rises and falls, the movement becoming shallower and shallower before it finally stops altogether. Her tears fall freely now, running down the soldier's cooling hand that fits so perfectly in her own.

Once again, she feels like a failure, unable to follow her commander on her last, great adventure.

Yes, they had always known it would be this way and friends had reluctantly warned them that there would be a time when you had to let go. But staring at her bondmate, her wife, her lover, her friend, she knew that that time would never come.

"I won't ever let you go."