No content warnings, 1009 words.
Liara badly needed a drink. Shepard had messaged to say that she was done visiting Ashley and Thane at the hospital, but needed a few hours to “do some of Aria’s dirty work.” After those two stops, she was definitely going to come back to the ship full of grief and guilt and frustration. Not that Liara begrudged Shepard any of those emotions, but she thought they would be more easily faced after a drink or two..
Not at Apollo’s - it was far too public, not to mention under observation by her father. She’d asked Avina to recommend a bar. “Something nearby, but off the beaten path.”
Avina had asked, “Are those your only parameters?”
Liara, envisioning Avina directing her to a dextro-only bar, had added, “It should have drinks I can consume. Oh, somewhere I can get a Thessian Sunset!”
Avina had obligingly sent her to this nondescript hole in the wall. It was dominated by a long bar with three sides, with a wide open space broken only by a few chairs and tables. This made more sense when she realized that the bartender and most of the customers were elcor. She snagged a stool and pulled it up to the bar. She caught the bartender’s eye; when he came laboriously over to her, she ordered her drink and watched him start mixing.
An elcor with a frayed, almost ratty-looking head covering slid his drink down the bar and inched closer to Liara. “Awkwardly: I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
“You haven’t. I’m just stopping in for a few drinks.” Liara turned to the bartender and accepted her drink, deliberately not looking back to her interlocutor.
“Nervously: don’t you think the weather is nice today?”
Keeping her head averted, Liara said, “We’re on the Citadel. The weather is nice every day it’s not raining geth.”
“Desperately: you know, blue is my favorite color.”