#susanfic

Verbena - pray for me

don’t you know that you’re gonna break through

She’s on the verge of actual whining.

It isn’t soloing the Reapers that’s a problem (the email said she could pick the difficulty, and she already did this on bronze by herself two weeks ago, to settle a bet with Vega). It’s the knowledge that this is going to be on the news.

(She’s been on camera before, but hours and hours of media training was the only thing between her and running like hell away from Khalisah’s interviews.)

And it isn’t really that footage of her fighting holographic Reapers by herself is going to be on the extranet before she’s even back on the Normandy, it’s that she knows going in that this is going to be broadcast.

And she could probably fake it and put that out of her mind if it weren’t for the fact that the Hour 20 team sat her down in a makeup chair and spent half an hour with all kinds of pots and paints and powders. She thinks she has mascara or eyeliner or something in her eye, but every time she goes to rub at it, someone with a headset and a clipboard fusses at her in a way that makes her feel like a small child.

Liara’s laugh is the first familiar and comforting thing she’s heard since meeting with the news team in the locker room two hours ago.

Susan turns around, looking for her partner in the small sea of unfamiliar faces.

“If you could see your face right now,” Liara says, smiling widely at her nearly-panicked love.

“Please don’t make me do this.” She’s done scarier things, but at the moment she’s at a loss to name any of them.

Liara catches her hands and laces their fingers together. “It will be over in fifteen minutes. Try to beat your score from last week, make Vega work for it to bump you off the scoreboard.”

That thought nearly works, but a camera flashes right in her eye. She squints. “You’re the Shadow Broker, can’t you get me out of this?”

The automated announcer booms overhead, stating that the next match will be starting soon, and giving details like Commander Shepard and reapers and solo. Liara shakes her head. “If I had ten minutes, a volus insurgent, and a recon mine, possibly. But we have none of those things.”

Susan looks at her askance. “Sometimes I’m not sure how much of your Broker business you’re making up and how much of it is true.”

Liara stands on her toes and kisses her cheek. “Good. Now go, get it over with. You’ll be cloaked most of the time anyway.”

She returns the kiss and heads over to the elevator, giving Liara one last pleading look before the lift ascends.

Susan Shepard/Liara T'Soni; 521 words; rated G; pushing and pulling and thoughts of touch, and me taking possibly entirely too many liberties with style; also on AO3

The first thing she notices is Shepard’s hands.

(The first thing she notices is that a human, a turian, and a quarian have come to rescue her. But when the rescuing’s done, the first thing she notices is Shepard’s hands.)

small musings on all of my Shepards

She can’t do this, can’t breathe, doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be anywhere (calm down please oh god take a deep breath), she can’t, actually physically cannot move, she’s crying and dizzy and finally she does the only thing she can think of. She activates her tactical cloak and runs.

This is not the first time.

Her mother finds her hours later, sitting red-eyed and sniffly with her knees pulled to her chest as she stares at the hypnotic lights of the drive core. But today, instead of pulling her up and giving her a quick hug and then taking her home, her mom sits next to her, wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

They talk about it that night over dinner, as much as she can, which isn’t much. She bites down on her back teeth, forcing herself to tell her mom everything and not run away. She knows enough to know that she hates the way things are. She talks to the ship’s doctor the next day, and meets with an Alliance psychiatrist when they’re on Arcturus a month later. She hasn’t been back in school, but her grades have risen since the CMO sent a note to her teacher; she’s allowed to review the recorded lectures instead of going to class, and takes all tests at home, supervised. She likes school again.

Her mother is not at all surprised when she chooses to the infiltrator specialization.

Her body tells her that it’s morning, though morning has no meaning on the Normandy, and she wakes, slowly, stretching under the covers. Shepard’s arms tighten around her and Liara smiles, sinking back into her warmth. She’s missed this, misssed Shepard and staying in bed until the last possible moment. She turns over, feeling Shepard begin to wake as well, but stops and abruptly sits up.

The Shadow Broker.

Hagalaz. Feron. Tela Vasir. Fighting on the outside of a ship during a storm. Being shot at in her own apartment. Killing the old Shadow Broker. Becoming the new one.

Shepard laughs, low and groggy, and tugs Liara back down. “It happened,” she murmurs into Liara’s shoulder as she pulls the blankets back up, “you’re really the Shadow Broker now. But,” she presses a kiss to Liara’s cheek, “it can wait.”

“Shepard,” Liara halfheartedly protests. She’s torn between the comfort of Shepard, and the excitement of digging into the Shadow Broker feeds.

“Five minutes,” Shepard promises, and bumps her nose against Liara’s. “Please.”