"...and did you see that one asari Hanson got from the side?" Bellarmine wiggled his arms in what was probably supposed to be an imitation of a floating asari. "Talk about bragging rights, you caught an asari commando with her pants down. Metaphorically, ma'am," he added, glancing at Jack.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but decided to let that one slide. Hey, she did have some morals to pass along to these guys, all right? Some things just weren't fucking funny. But as long as they kept the gloating to combat skills, it was all good. She wasn't Shepard. Be a bit hypocritical if she started lecturing her kids about staying professional and shit.

She leaned over and snagged a bottle of whatever weird asari soda thing they were sharing, and gave herself a few seconds to reflect ruefully that she never should've promised Kahlee she'd set a normal human example of healthy alcohol consumption. Whatever. If it kept the kids from doing something stupid, she'd put up with it. "Meanwhile," she drawled as she popped the cap, "Someone was forgetting his barriers. Bellarmine."

Rodriguez gave an evil laugh and shoved Bellarmine's shoulder with her bare foot. Apparently it was too much trouble to actually get up from her end of the couch. 'Course, Jack wasn't bothering to sit up to grab her refills, either. She'd laid claim to this awkward double-wide armchair-couch thing. Shepard said it was called a loveseat, which was kind of ridiculous. It was comfortable, though, so Jack didn't feel the need to move.

"You're getting sloppy," said Prangley. He was grinning, but there was just enough seriousness in his voice that Bellarmine's answering smile was apologetic. Kid was gonna be a hell of an officer one day. Once Jack'd whipped him into shape, of course.

"We did it, though," said Hanson from the squishy armchair. He poured himself a soda shot—her kids at least had a good sense of humor about their crazy officer's Prohibition tendencies. Rademaker wordlessly held up her empty champagne flute from where she was lounging on a pile of cushions at his feet, and he topped her up as well. "I bet we don't hear from Cerberus again."

Jack still had to force back a flare of fear and hatred just at hearing the name; she didn't think she'd ever be able to get rid of that completely. But it was different this time. Seeing her kids cheerful and safe, flopped on stupidly comfortable squishy furniture around a coffee table overflowing with celebratory junk food, messing with each other like there'd never even been a war... Cerberus didn't seem so powerful now. Less a nebulous, omnipotent force of evil and more a bunch of insecure assholes with more money than sense.

Shepard'd probably call that healing. Jack called it emptying a heat sink into anyone stupid enough to try to restart the damn thing. She figured those were basically the same.

"Don't jinx it, Hanson," she said, but there was no heat behind it. "But if that's the best they can do now, I think we're good."

"It was almost embarrassing," said Prangley. He was sitting cross-legged on the ottoman from Hanson's armchair, because Hanson had pushed him out of it and he was too good-natured a kid to bother pushing him back. Eh. There'd be plenty of time to hammer some assertiveness into him. "I mean, I remember Cerberus from the Academy, and those guys were just..."

"Idiots," Jack supplied, tossing back the rest of her soda. Shepard so owed her a real drink later. Or several. "Broke, pathetic idiots. You did good, guys."

Rodriguez curled up happily in her corner of the couch. "They sure weren't husks, ma'am."

Jack laughed. "Miss tearing Brutes apart, Rodriguez? I knew I liked you for a reason." She blushed, but the shy grin was real. Jack shook her head. Her students were all right. "All you guys are crazy."

"Says you, ma'am!" protested Prangley.

"Yeah, you especially. You're lucky Kahlee says I'm not allowed to make you guys run laps around the house. Apparently you're on vacation." There'd also been some stuff about 'reckless endangerment' and 'impulsive risk-taking' and 'I turn my back on you for five minutes' but Jack wasn't stupid. Kahlee was proud of them, she just worried. Especially since Anderson.

"I'll drink to that," said Bellarmine, to general agreement. "To never having to see another Banshee, ever again, for any reason?"

"I don't think I'll have a chance to learn that many new swear words at once again," Rodriguez added, joining the toast.

"Shut up," said Jack. "There were like a million of the fucking things."

"If the Harvesters weren't evil, they'd have been kind of cool," sighed Bellarmine.

Radmaker snorted. "Respectfully disagreeing there," she said drily, waving her missing arm at him. Bellarmine blanched, but looked reassured by the fact that she was smirking. Meanwhile Eezo, who had been curled up happily against her side, got distracted by the movement and leapt up to lick her.

"Yeah," said Hanson, "But if they weren't Reapers, we could've gotten you a literal dragon."

"Better than those cat magnets you got me for my birthday," said Rademaker, laughing as she tried to push Eezo off her. "But I'm still totally cool with the 'no more husks' thing."

Prangley lifted a wine glass of soda. "Hear, hear."

Jack whistled. "Eezo! C'mere. You want a cookie? Stop licking Rademaker's stump." Apparently the asari had the same kind of generic old-lady cookies lying around that humans had, but after yesterday nobody in this house gave a shit about a healthy diet.

"See, that just sounds dirty," said Hanson, ignoring Rademaker when she smacked his legs. "I don't know how, but it does."

"You suck."

"...Nah," he decided. "Too easy. I'm not even gonna say it."

Rodriguez threw an old-lady cookie at them. "Get a room!"

Miranda's lips twitched as the Grissom Academy kids fell over themselves laughing. Jack didn't move to stop them, but as the little gathering devolved into a brief war of cookie-throwing Miranda did notice her fingers twitch and a shimmering shield bloom over the coffee table. She was sure Shepard would appreciate the lack of broken glass and soda stains in her carpet.

She had to admit, Jack looked... good. It was the reason she was keeping to herself in the kitchen, watching them from enough of a distance that it wasn't awkward. She looked like she belonged here; irreverent and cocky, more ink and surgical scars than bare skin, but surrounded by laughing teenagers who looked up to her the way some people looked up to Shepard. Miranda wasn't blind, she knew undying loyalty when she saw it.

She gave a soft, mirthless laugh. Jack played off her students like she'd raised them. There were days when Miranda still struggled to get through a normal conversation with her own sister without at least three classified dossiers open.

She about jumped out of her skin when cool fingers brushed the inside of her elbow.

"Miranda," Liara said softly by way of greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Miranda shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'm... still a little jumpy."

"Of course you are. I can't imagine." She hesitated. "I don't suppose..."

"I'm sorry, Liara," she sighed. "I still can't think how they did it. I'm ashamed to say it was probably exactly as simple as it seems." She'd been kicking herself for it since she woke up on the Suns raider. She hadn't noticed anything unusual about the paramedics rushing past her until there was already a needle in her neck; her abductors must have had better acting skills than black-ops abilities. It frustrated her to no end. She should have seen it coming. She should have been better than that.

Liara shook her head. "Complicated plans go wrong more easily." A mischievous smirk crossed her face. "Surely you've learned that lesson by now."

"Ha, ha. I'll remind you that my project went perfectly."

"The facility was destroyed."

"Details," Miranda said lightly.

Liara sighed. "How are you, really?" she asked. "We worry."

Miranda respected Liara enough to take a moment and think about her answer. "Better, now that I've had a chance to sleep," she decided. They'd finally landed back at the T'Soni estate... either very late last night or very early this morning, whatever 0300 hours counted as. The few hours' worth of rest she'd managed en route had helped to take the edge off, but it was nothing to having a soft, dark, quiet bed to get an actual solid eight hours of real sleep. She'd accepted Liara's offer of soup on arrival solely because her hunger had been distracting her enough that it was likely to keep her awake. It was the first time she'd truly understood Jack's passionate love affair with sleep.

...And fine, yes, having Jack as a warm, solid presence next to her when she was still feeling sick and exhausted had been the most wonderful thing she'd ever imagined. That didn't mean she had to admit it. God forbid. Jack was insufferable enough as it was.

Liara side-eyed her sternly. "That wasn't what I meant. But fine." She leaned against the counter next to Miranda. "I am still attempting to track down some loose ends. In a few days, I hope I will be able to give you some information on those men's resources off the Citadel. Their contact in C-Sec has... had an accident." She pouted. "I can still do that much."

Miranda fought back a smile as Liara's hands drifted to her belly. "You're not fooling anyone," she said smugly. "You've practically been glowing since you announced the pregnancy. Even Jack's noticed."

Liara glared at her. "Jack can be irritatingly perceptive when it suits her. You could stand to keep her marginally under control."

Miranda snorted. "Keep Jack under control? I'm a genetic triumph, not a bloody miracle worker."

Liara sighed again. "If you need anything," she said, "Please attempt to knock before you come in." At Miranda's confusion, she nodded toward Jack. "Your mate is probably still traumatized. I would be more sympathetic if we hadn't locked the door. I think it may have been a mistake to introduce her to Kasumi."

Miranda cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact at all costs as Liara pushed away from the counter and went off to, presumably, find Shepard.

Several seconds after she left, it dawned on Miranda what she'd said.

"Wait, my what?"

"Ow," said Bellarmine, rubbing his skull. "You guys suck."

"Nah," said Hanson. "You're just shit at ducking."

Jack exchanged a look with Eezo. "These guys are hopeless," she told him. He lolled his tongue out happily. Rodriguez, who'd somehow ended up in Hanson's chair, reached down and rubbed her knuckles between his eyes.

"Hanson started it," she insisted.

Jack rolled her eyes. "You're cleaning up all those cookies and shit," she warned them.

Prangley coughed. "Uh, I think Eezo's already on that, ma'am."

"Damn it, Eezo," Jack told the varren. He panted at her and went back to munching the dropped cookies. "I'm over here trying to teach these kids some goddamn responsibility and you're doing their chores for 'em? Not okay."

Prangley laughed. "Thanks, buddy."

Eezo wiggled happily and Jack threw up another barrier before his tail could swipe half the glasses off the table. She shook her head and sat back against the cushions. A girl could get used to this.

"At least you had enough sense to keep the biotics to yourselves," she smirked. "Otherwise we'd have to get Liara a new house."

Bellarmine fished half a cookie out from under his ass and threw it halfheartedly at Rademaker. "'Course, some of us just haven't got that much power..."

"Lick my stump, Bellarmine."

"See?" Hanson said. "What'd I tell you? That just sounds wrong."

Shaking her head at their antics, Jack happened to glance over and spot Miranda where she'd been for almost an hour, leaning quietly on the kitchen counter watching their little dysfunctional family do its thing.

"Hey, Miranda," she called. "You gonna join us or what?"

Miranda blinked, looking surprised at the invitation. Jack didn't quite get that; it wasn't like they were some exclusive country club or some shit. They were just her kids. Miranda'd been planning to come for the reunion anyway.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," she said. Jack was about to ask her what the hell was going on in her head, but then she did that little nervous thing where she looked away and scratched at her collarbone. It was kinda cute, except she only did it when she was in a situation she didn't know how to handle. Well, all right. Jack'd just give her a situation she knew inside and out.

She offered Miranda her best shit-eating grin and propped herself up on her elbows. "What's the point of having an ass like that if you're gonna keep it all the way over there, cheerleader?"

Miranda rolled her eyes, but pushed herself off the counter so she could come around and join them. Yup. One-upping the crazy ex-con was a game Miranda could never resist playing. Worked every time she needed to quit worrying and let herself fucking breathe for once.

"Pig," she said affectionately.

"You love it."

Prangley made gagging noises. Jack glanced at him and snapped her fingers, and Eezo hit him with a biotic blast that send him tumbling off his ottoman. Then the big softie ran around to the other side to make sure he was okay. Miranda snorted.

"I can see you're setting as shining an example of good behavior as always," she said, scanning their setup for a place to sit. Bellarmine moved over politely to offer her a place on the sofa between him and Hanson; Jack was having none of it. She hooked the fingers of one hand through the back of Miranda's belt, put the other arm around her waist, and tugged her down into her lap as she walked by.

Her surprised squeak was totally worth the accidental elbow to the solar plexus.

"Ow."

"Sorry," Miranda said, sounding like the least sorry person in history. "Serves you right."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack wasn't worried. If the cheerleader wanted her to stop, all she had to do was say so and she knew it. She wasn't a sicko, she knew when to let up. Miranda just needed a little normality right now, okay? Everyone treating her like some broken bird wasn't gonna help. She pulled one of the back cushions off so she could move over a little more and tuck her sort-of-girlfriend between her and the food instead of right on top of her gut. Miranda was gorgeous and all, but she was heavy.

Prangley picked himself up and poured the lady a drink with one hand while trying to fend Eezo off with the other. Miranda accepted it gracefully.

"Glad to see you're doing better, ma'am," he said genuinely. "Sorry we couldn't get there sooner."

Miranda smiled at him over the rim of her soda glass. "I'm lucky you were there at all. None of you had to put yourself in danger for me. I'm... extremely grateful. To all of you."

Rademaker leaned over and fistbumped her shoe, which was the only bit she could reach without moving. "Our pleasure, ma'am."

Jack held Miranda a little closer and got a happy sigh in return—nothing the kids would probably notice, just for them. "Hey," she said. "Any asshole thinks they can mess with my girl, they're fucking wrong, aren't they?"

That got her a surprised look over the shoulder, although Miranda hid it quickly behind a quirked eyebrow. "Oh, I'm yours now, am I?"

The question made Jack squirm a little, but she shrugged as carelessly as she could manage. "What," she said, pretending it wasn't an actual question. "You denying it?"

Miranda smirked, relaxing back against Jack's chest. "Oh, not at all. Surprised it's taken you this long to figure it out. Of course, critical thinking was never your strong suit."

"Keep it up, princess," Jack warned her. "I've got lots of stories I could tell these guys."

"She's only told us good ones so far," said Bellarmine.

She could feel Miranda's surprise at that one. "I wasn't aware she had any."

Hanson leaned forward eagerly. "She said you told the Illusive Man where to shove it before he even started with the Reaper stuff. Did you really turn around and start sabotaging Cerberus operations before the Normandy even got back to the Citadel?"

Miranda shrugged, trying to find somewhere to look that wouldn't make her blush more. "Well..."

Prangley whistled. "Bad ass. No wonder he wanted you back."

"Should've realized that'd never work," Rademaker said dismissively.

Miranda shifted and fiddled with her glass. "Thank you," she said, sounding surprised. "I'm... touched. Really."

Rodriguez gave that little hopeful smile that had made Jack worry about her so much at the Academy. "Just glad to see you home safe, ma'am."

"I don't actually live here," Miranda pointed out.

Prangley shrugged. "Home's where the heart is, right?" Rademaker rolled her eyes and called him a pussy, and for a few seconds there was another cookie-throwing fight before Jack cleared her throat and they settled down. Honestly. Kids.

After a few more friendly insults and everyone groaning loudly at Hanson's attempts at flirting, Rademaker finally patted his knee pityingly and looked back over to where Miranda was—for once—perfectly happy to just lie back and let Jack lead the conversation.

"So," she said casually, holding a fresh box of cookies between her feet so it would stay put while she opened it. "You're our new mom, huh?"

Not even Jack was expecting Miranda to stiffen in shock like that. For a second she thought maybe she'd hurt herself somehow, or there was some sort of lingering side effect of the sedatives, because her hand shook and she set the glass down quickly like she was about to drop it.

Jack frowned and nearly asked her what was wrong, but then Miranda relaxed again, even more than before. And her face—she wasn't even grinning, it was something more than that. An honest-to-god, my-face-hurts-because-I'm-so-happy-and-it's-all-your-fault-dammit ear-to-ear smile. And was she—was she blushing? The way she pressed back into Jack's arms was almost shy.

She cleared her throat. "If you'll have me," she said. She sounded casual enough to fool someone who didn't know her.

The kids didn't seem to notice anything unusual; they threw her casual salutes and said stuff like "Welcome to the club, ma'am" and Hanson called "Catch!" and tossed her a cookie.

Jack stretched and pulled Miranda a little closer to her side. So she might have nuzzled her a bit. So what.

"So does that mean I can send 'em to you when they want to do something stupid like ritually sacrificing Hanson's socks?" she asked, just to Miranda. "'Cause that happened."

Miranda swallowed hard, like she was tearing up or something, and turned a little so she could look up at Jack without hurting her neck.

"I'll nag them about safe sex and keeping their grades up until they hate me," she said with a smile. "Ask Oriana."

Jack was seriously considering kissing her because she was just... fucking adorable, all right, and gorgeous and hot as fuck and here and safe and hers. Then Prangley overshot with his cookie-throwing and hit her in the eye, which kind of ruined the mood.

Whatever.

Plenty of time later. None of these guys were going anywhere.