Note: Sorry for the long wait, guys! Thanks for sticking with this. Don't forget, my interview for Allaine's femslash4fans blog has been re-scheduled for Thursday, May 3rd, at 9 PM EST. NQ Wilder and Rae D. Magdon will also be speaking. Again, thank you so, so much for reading and reviewing.

14.

"You keep staring at her," Miranda scowled.

Shepard murmured absently, almost to herself. "Hmm.."

"I mean, actually staring. Quite intently, actually."

"Right," Shepard said, furrowing her brows in concentration.

Miranda sighed. "You know, yesterday I accidentally put Jack in the trash compactor and hit 'eject'."

"Awful," agreed Shepard, frowning.

"Then I took off all my clothes and danced around the medical bay."

Shepard didn't even blink. "You are a very good dancer."

A sharp huff blew a strand of hair out of Miranda's eyes and she barely restrained the urge to growl. "Oh, and right before Liara left, she and I decided to have angry hate sex on your bed. I think we broke the headboard."

"I'm glad you two are getting along, I-wait, what?"

Miranda rolled her eyes, muttering. "Of course that's what gets her attention." Shepard still stared, and impatiently, Miranda waved a hand in Ashley's general direction. "You've been staring at her for ten minutes straight."

"Oh," Shepard mumbled. Then, she ran an irritated hand through her hair. "I'm glad she's here but…I don't know. I don't really understand it."

"She said she wanted to help," Miranda said dubiously. "Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she were spying on you for the Alliance."

Shepard scowled. "I…" She blinked for a moment, sighing. "What bothers me most about that is that before, I would've told you that she wouldn't do something like that. Not to me. After Horizon, though…" Shepard looked away, turned to watch Ashley gesticulate wildly while speaking with Dr. Chakwas. "Well," she said with a blatantly false smile. "You think you know a girl, huh?"

"Shepard."

Shepard shrugged, her expression resigned. "I know. I should probably go talk to her."

Nodding, Miranda briefly touched her hand to Shepard's. "Whatever is going on needs to be cleared up soon. Just talk to her, because whatever all this is…it can't get in the way of the mission."

"The mission. Yeah. Got it," she repeated hollowly.

Miranda squeezed Shepard's larger fingers before letting go. "And you should talk to her because it's bothering you so...maybe it's bothering me a little too," Miranda admitted.

Shepard's melancholy disappeared and her expression warmed. "Are you actually expressing affection, Miss Lawson?" she teased.

Miranda deliberately ignored the sudden flicker of shyness in her stomach, and sniffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Commander. You're just not as attractive when you frown."

"Ouch. I hate it when you objectify me."

"Do you?" Miranda glanced over her shoulder before discreetly threading her fingers through Shepard's belt loops and tugging her forward by her hips. They were close enough to kiss at this point, and Miranda delighted in the way Shepard's breathing hitched for just a moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she whispered with a smirk before pulling away. "Now go on. Find me later. Then maybe we can finish what we started before Joker's rather…untimely interruption."

Miranda's hips seemed to sway a little more than usual as she left, and Shepard tried not to stare. When the operative turned to give her one last, tiny smile over her shoulder, Shepard realized it was an exercise in futility.

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Shepard stared at her empty aquarium, watching the kelp sway in the water and the bubbles from the filtration tank burst at the surface. It was mesmerizing and calming even without Mr. Bigglesworth, Sodapop and crew, and it made it easy to get lost in her thoughts. So much so that she barely heard the door to her cabin open.

"You wanted to see me, skipper?" Ashley asked. "Wow," she said, shaking her head. "Haven't said those words in awhile."

"I bet you didn't expect to."

"Probably as much as you didn't expect to see me here…which is what I'm guessing this is about." She gestured towards the leather couch. "May I?"

Shepard chuckled, but the sound was bitter and dry. "Before, you probably would've just flopped down on it without asking and spilled some beer."

"Not true," Ashley said lightly. "…You didn't have a leather couch on the old Normandy."

Lines sharpened on Shepard's face, making her look uncharacteristically stern. "You know what I mean."

Ashley looked away. "Yeah," she said, blinking, "I do."

There was a moment of silence between them, one that, two years ago, would've been comfortable and soothing. Now, it was anything but. "Just…" Shepard sighed, crossing her arms and shrugging. "Why are you here, Ash?"

"Huh. Figures you'd jump right into it." Ashley stared down at her hands, not answering for a moment. Then she exhaled a rough, shaky breath. "'Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die,'" she quoted softly.

The sense of calmness Shepard had broke into a million pieces in an instant, and she felt ugly, dark anger grow in its place.

"I never liked Tennyson," Shepard said, whirling to face Ashley. "And for once, I don't want any quotes, I don't want any damn poetry. I want to know what you're thinking and how you feel in your own words." Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Shepard began to pace back and forth while Ash seemed to sink deeper into the couch.

"Commander…"

Ashley went ignored. "I know it seemed like I could do a lot of things that seemed impossible. Going to Ilos…stopping Saren…I get it. But at the end of the day, I'm only human. I died, Ashley. There wasn't anything I could do about it. And yeah, Cerberus brought me back to life. I sure as hell don't agree with their methods. I've seen what they've done in their experiments and nothing in the universe will justify that. But I have no choice. They're the only ones actually doing something about the Collectors and the Reapers. They're the only ones that actually believe me. You didn't believe me."

Ashley remained silent.

Shepard's eyes burned like coals. "Do you know what that's like?" she asked, clearly not expecting an answer from the other woman. "It starts to make you feel crazy. Like maybe you are just making it all up. Maybe being pieced back together after your body is blown to bits isn't so good for your brain, maybe everything you did and were meant nothing because no matter how much you shout, no one's willing to listen."

"Shepard…"

"Maybe it's good of you not to trust me. I don't even know if I'm really me anymore. Maybe I'm just a really advanced VI that thinks it's Commander Shepard." Shepard shook her head roughly. "You lost your best friend when I died," she said. "But I lost at least five of mine."

Shepard refused to look Ashley in the eye, and instead focused her gaze on the floor. The silence settled over them like a heavy blanket, smothering and uncomfortable. Ashley just shifted in her seat, staring at the lines of the Commander's face that were sharper and more distinct. Whether it was due to the shadows or the scars, Ashley had never seen Shepard look this tired, this resigned; even after the Council grounded her all those months ago, she'd never seen the Commander look so…defeated. She opened her mouth to speak, hoping the words she wanted to say would suddenly come out of nowhere. "Shepard, I just-"

"Commander," said Joker over the intercom, causing both women to jump a little in surprise. "The Illusive Man wants to speak with you."

Shepard's back stiffened at the mention of the infamous Cerberus leader's name and Ashley's eyes grew flinty with suspicion. "Thanks, Joker," the Commander said to the speaker in the ceiling. "I'll be in the debriefing room in a moment."

"Understood, Commander." Joker signed off the intercom with a crackle, one that was loud enough to make the following silence even heavier than before.

Shepard ducked her head and decided to barrel through the tension. "I just don't know what you want from me, Ash," she admitted.

The former gunnery chief took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself. "I want you to forgive me for the way I acted on Horizon, Shepard. And," she paused, struggling for words, "for you to understand…I just need some time."

"I do understand, Ashley, but you have to know I don't have that time to give. I can't focus on convincing you to follow me, not when-"

"That's not it. I'm with you, Shepard," Ashley interrupted. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. Look," said Ashley, "I've seen what the Collectors can do and I want to stop them." She bit at the inside of her lip. "I guess I just wanted you to know that I'm trying to understand all this too." Ashley paused, staring at her palms. "I'm..I'm sorry that I can't give you more. I just hope that that's good enough."

Shepard finally stopped pacing and, after hesitating only for a moment, took a seat next to Ashley on the couch, breathing deeply through her nose. "Never feel like you're less than that, Ash," she said solemnly, "no matter what."

Shepard hadn't planned on resolving everything – or anything, really – in one sitting, but something in the atmosphere certainly changed, shifted into something less hostile, less hurtful, with her words.

Ashley looked torn for a moment. A thousand words went unsaid, yet the way the Commander's blue eyes met Ashley's brow ones without as much anger, confusion, and hurt in them, the way she didn't ask for any more explanation...that alone spoke a million words more.

Ashley gave a hesitant smile, looking into that familiar clear blue gaze. "Aye, aye, Captain."

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She didn't bother with pleasantries, as usual. "The nose?"

"Not broken," Jacob Taylor answered, tossing a bloodied piece of tissue paper into the wastebasket. He touched his fingertips to the bridge of his nose gently, wincing. "Sure feels like it though."

Miranda's lips quirked. "The Commander packs quite the punch."

"I'll say." Jacob glanced over his shoulder, catching the unguarded, soft expression on Miranda's face, the same one he was beginning to associate with Shepard. "What happened down there?" he asked, studying the perfect woman's expressions carefully. "In the cargo bay, I mean. Before you brought her back."

Only Miranda, Mordin, Liara, and Dr. Chakwas knew what had really happened; Shepard had decided for the time being, it was easier not to address the indoctrination just yet. Miranda was of the idea that it was best not to tell the rest of the squad at all – it surely wasn't going to inspire great morale and trust in Shepard right when they needed it most – but Shepard merely shook her head and asked Miranda to let her handle it her way. And Miranda, as of late, was having a hard time saying no to the Commander. Not that she would ever admit that.

Jacob looked at her expectantly, but her face betrayed nothing, save for the small flicker of indecision before she spoke. "Nothing that isn't resolved already." Miranda Lawson was as graceful in conversation as she was in a fight, and she danced and weaved around her words as easily as she did her enemies. "As you can imagine, she…wasn't in the best state," she said cautiously. "She was…confused."

"I'll say," Jacob retorted, gently touching his nose once more at the painful memory of the Commander lashing out. "You and the docs had her in the medical bay for a while, there."

"It was necessary," said Miranda, tone clipped and as unaffected as possible.

"Can't imagine what the Collectors did to her," Jacob confessed, shaking his head. "Don't want to, considering what we've seen."

"Then let's not dwell on it," Miranda replied. "Shepard's…" she bit her lip, pausing for a moment. "Shepard's fine. I'm…pleased."

"I'm sure you are," Jacob said. After receiving a glare from the other Cerberus agent, he gentled his expression and gave her a small smile. "Miranda, about before…when we talked about you and Shepard…"

She tensed in an instant. Miranda lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Are you sure you want to continue this thread of conversation, Jacob?"

Her low tone was intended to scare him off, but Jacob wouldn't be deterred; they didn't have room or time for mistakes and misunderstandings when the journey into the relay loomed so close. "Yes," he reaffirmed, "Whether you want to hear it or not, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I reacted. It was childish and selfish."

"Yes," Miranda conceded, "it was."

Of course she wouldn't budge easily, but Jacob tried again. "I see it now though, Miranda," he said. "I guess I was too hurt and too blind to see it before, but…you and Shepard…" he struggled for a second, several emotions passing across his face. "You guys…make sense. You're good together."

The coldness melted from Miranda's eyes after a moment, and her familiar half-smirk appeared. "Chance of imminent death has gotten you all sentimental, Jacob."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not good with words—" here, Miranda snorted – "but I wanted you to know…even though there was a time when I wanted more, I never stopped being your friend."

For a moment, Miranda Lawson actually hesitated. Then she stepped forward, dropping a brief kiss on Jacob's stubbled cheek. "It may be an irritating quality sometimes, Jacob," she said, "but I suppose your empathy has its benefits."

Jacob laughed, shaking his head ruefully. "I've never met anyone that could insult and compliment someone else at the same time."

Pulling away with a cocky smirk, Miranda said, "You've never met anyone like me, period."

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It was funny how after everything she'd been through, some things just didn't change. He still sat with his back to her for a moment, still gazing at the large, burning star in front of him - still barely acknowledged her presence even though he was the one that had asked for it.

"Shepard," the Illusive Man greeted in his typical, non-committal way, exhaling particularly roughly after a long drag from his cigarette.

She was grateful that they never met in person sometimes, considering she'd probably die from smoke inhalation otherwise. "Illusive Man," Shepard nodded. Rarely did she look forward to a meeting with him, but considering she knew exactly what he wanted to talk about…Shepard shifted her weight on her heels in slight unease.

He spun in his swivel chair, turning to face her. His eerie blue eyes stared at her, unblinking, and his face was dark in the cover of the shadows. "Good to see that you're back in one piece. I would hope there are no…lasting effects or repercussions from your little visit with the Collectors?"

"My little visit," she repeated in disbelief. "You mean my abduction and subsequent torture by the Collectors?" Crossing her arms, Shepard cocked her hip. "Oh yeah. No lasting effects or repercussions. What's a little psychological and physical trauma every once in awhile?"

His eyes glinted in the relative darkness of the room. "Sarcasm isn't very becoming, Shepard."

"Neither is your condescension."

He scanned over a nearby datapad, then tossed it aside without another glance. "You mistake my concern for derision. I have nothing but your best interests, humanity's best interests in mind."

"You mean Cerberus's," Shepard clarified.

Waving a dismissive hand, he simply brushed off her distrust as usual. "One and the same. But I'm sure you're just as tired of this argument as I am. I can't convince you as much as you can't convince me."

"So let's get to the point then," offered Shepard. "You probably just want to make sure Harbinger didn't ruin your little pet project."

He smiled, and it predictably set Shepard's teeth on edge. "Miss Lawson's reports were extensive, as were Dr. Chakwas's. Both of them put you, for the most part, in the clear. I'm impressed, Shepard," the Illusive Man drawled, stubbing out his cigarette. "If you've truly overcome indoctrination, you would be the first human – no, first living creature – to ever do so."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, all it took as a little assisted suicide."

"From our…beloved Operative Lawson, no less," he noted.

Something in his tone made her spine straighten. "Interesting choice of words," she replied, just as casually.

"Is it?" he asked, almost coy.

The Commander scowled. "I don't have time for your games. Say what you want to say, or don't. I've got a Collector base to assault and a crew to save."

He lit another cigarette, looking particularly bored. "I couldn't care less about what you and Miss Lawson get up to in your spare time—"

"—You'd better mind your own damn business, or—"

"—but," he said loudly, ignoring Shepard's interjection, "I do care how that affects the mission."

She was so very tired of hearing those words. "Here we go," Shepard muttered.

Blissfully, the Illusive Man ignored her and continued. "Commander Shepard, I'd like to know exactly what happened to you while with the Collectors. I'm sure the information you could provide could give us significant insight into them, as well as the Reapers. Their technology, their methods…anything you've seen could give us more leverage in the oncoming war."

"Miranda's report wasn't enough for you?"

He hummed, smirking a little. "That's where I'm sure our favorite operative let her feelings get in the way." Shepard scowled but said nothing, and the curl of the Illusive Man's lip grew more pronounced. "What she's given me is merely a bare-bones account. I'm sure that's only out of the sentimental notion of sparing you the experience of re-living that trauma."

"Or maybe because there's nothing much to tell," Shepard shot back.

"Is that so?" he pursed his lips around the butt of his newly lit cigarette, drawing in a deep breath. He didn't bother to exhale and merely let the smoke curl out of his mouth as he spoke. "Then perhaps you could explain something to me. The one particular detail I found to be of interest."

"Which is?" she prompted, impatience coloring her tone.

She found the Illusive Man and his methods, his philosophies, his choices, to be wholly unjustifiable – ever since the beginning, she'd always felt a prickling of discomfort low in her spine. Now, the way those strange, robotic blue eyes seemed to peer deep through her own: the hairs on her arms stood on end, and she clenched her fists.

His words struck her like a blow, harder than a punch to the stomach from a krogan. "Whose voice did you think you heard? The one that gave you solace in your particularly dark times, reassured you when you were trying to escape indoctrination?"

For a split second, the Commander felt a peculiar numbness. Out of shock or disbelief, she didn't know. But, she wondered, even after all they had been through, was Miranda still so enamored with Cerberus that she would deliberately go against Shepard's wishes, go out of her way to report the information the Commander had asked to be kept private?

Just as quickly, she realized something about the heaviness of his gaze upon her, the way he seemed to be studying every careful expression on her face. Clues snapped into place like puzzle pieces. Miranda swore to keep that detail off the record, and Miranda didn't make promises lightly. More importantly, the ones she did make – she kept. The Illusive Man, however, would not have that kind of integrity.

"You've been spying on us," she spat. "You've got bugs planted on the Normandy, don't you?"

The Illusive Man blinked in what she supposed he thought was what innocence looked like. "It is a Cerberus-owned ship."

She stared at him with utter disgust. "For all your talk about humanity, everything you do defiles what it is to be human. You're a lying, deceitful, ruthless son of a-"

"Now, Commander," he began.

"No," she growled. "To hell with this. I've got nothing left to say to you except this: I'm going after the Collectors now, and unless you plan on hopping aboard, then back the hell off. I've done as you asked." With an angry curl of her lip, she turned. A rough, dismissive wave of her hand had Joker shutting off the transmission without so much as a snarky comment.

The Illusive Man barely blinked, and instead, just took another apathetic drag as he stared at the spot where the Commander had stood. "Not everything, Shepard," he said to himself, blue eyes glowing in the darkness as he sat back, content to wait.

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It wouldn't have been so painful if Jack had punched her without the use of her biotic powers. Of course Jack had no such restraint.

"You motherfucker," Jack hissed, first out of anger, and then out of pain as her hand throbbed. "Did they fucking make your face out of steel? That shit hurt!"

"Yeah. It did." Shepard moved her jaw side to side, checking for any loose teeth or blood. She found none, but spat anyway. "Jack, listen…"

"No, asshole. Last time I did that, you handed yourself over to the Collectors like a fucking idiot, singlehandedly screwing us all. What the fuck were you thinking?"

The Commander rubbed at her brow. "Trust me, Jack. No one regrets that more than I do."

"Oh, okay," the biotic sneered, "now that makes everything better. Fuck you." Jack stomped off towards her makeshift bed, flopping down on it and staring angrily at the ceiling.

"I know you're angry—"

"Gee, where'd you get that idea? Fuck off."

"—but for what it's worth," Shepard continued, "I'm sorry that I put you in that position."

Jack snorted. "What it's worth? Apologies are about as useful as a fucking box of hair."

Blinking, Shepard sat down on the nearby metal bench. "A box of hair? What the hell would you even need that for?"

"Nothing. That's the point, dumbass."

"I don't know, you probably could use it, cueball." Jack was clearly not amused, and her scowl deepened. For a moment, Shepard just watched her before giving a heavy sigh. "I did what I thought was best at the time. It was dumb, yeah, and I've sure as hell paid for it. But you guys got away. You got the IFF and now we can go through the relay and get our crew back."

"Your crew," Jack pointed out. "I couldn't give a lesser shit about these Cerberus fucks."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "At the very least, you'll get to kick a metric ton of Collector ass. How about that? You can't say I don't get all the best enemies."

Jack rolled over, facing the wall and turning her back on Shepard. "Whatever," she muttered.

"There's that bright and shiny personality I missed."

"Oh, for fuck's sake—"

"How about this? If we survive all this," Shepard suggested, "I'll let you play around for a day. Put the Normandy through her paces and all."

The reconciliatory offer had the opposite effect than Shepard intended. "You think you can just fuck everything up and expect it to be okay after a few stupid jokes and goofy smiles?" spat Jack, looking angrier. "You don't know shit."

"You're right. I don't." She lowered her voice, rested her palms on her knees and leaned forward on the bench. "I wish you would explain it to me." When Jack still didn't respond, the Commander pressed onward. "Look, Jack, we're here to stop the Collectors. Whatever any of our motivations are, whatever personal reasons we may have for fighting…"

"Don't worry, Commander, I'll do my job," said Jack.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then fucking spit it out."

Shepard's voice cut like a knife with its brutal honesty. "You might be fighting just because you think that's all you're made for, but it's not."

"Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Shepard. I've had enough of your bullshit."

"Then why haven't you left?" Shepard asked. "No one's stopping you. You're free from Purgatory, you got your Cerberus data, you blew up Pragia. What more is there, if there's nothing to you but fighting?"

Jack sat up, glaring daggers with flushed cheeks. "I'm just here to kick Collector ass, and –"

"Bullshit," Shepard interrupted. Jack opened her mouth to retort when Shepard just scowled and continued on. "Ask yourself why you're still here, Jack, or why you're so angry that I left you and Mordin on that Reaper ship." Her blue eyes were like shards of ice, piercing into Jack's furious brown ones. "It's the same reason why I'm here trying to apologize. Because I care about you; because you're my friend."

"Fuck you and your feelings," hissed Jack angrily. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Is it really so bad to actually give a shit about something, Jack? To care?" Shepard questioned. "Hasn't it occurred to you that maybe that's what separates us from things like the Reapers?"

For a moment, Jack froze. Then she melted back into her typical rage, eyebrows furrowed and lips curled in a half-sneer, half-scowl. "Get the fuck out," said Jack, turning her back to Shepard once more. "I'm…I'm done talking."

"Jack…"

"Get. Out."

There was a moment of silence where Jack didn't hear the telltale shifting of clothes, the hint of movement. Then, she heard the Commander stand and reluctantly, take heavy steps up the stairs. Jack just knew the Commander didn't look back.

If she had, she probably would've noticed the way Jack curled tighter into herself on her cot, her expression pensive and filled with something akin to regret.

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"You look terrible."

Millions and millions of stars zoomed past the window in Shepard's ceiling, her eyes ever watchful as she lay flat on her bed, staring upwards. "Thanks," she said, her lips curling in a smile. "Is that any way to greet your lover, Miss Lawson?"

The familiar sound of Miranda's heels clacking against the floor as she approached the bed quickened the beat of her heart, made her breathing hitch just the tiniest bit.

"One of many," Miranda said lowly, standing at the foot of the bed until Shepard leaned up on her elbows to look at her. Blue eyes raked over Miranda's svelte form with both affection and desire, and her stomach flipped at the cool smile on the operative's face. Curiously, Miranda seemed to be waiting for something, and with a smirk, Shepard surged upwards and grabbed the dark-haired woman around her middle in a bear hug. "Shepard!" she laughed as they tumbled back down on the bed, her body sprawled on top of the Commander's. "You're insane," Miranda murmured with a gentle smile, holding herself up by the elbows and brushing a strand of hair out of Shepard's eyes.

"I'd have to be, in order to deal with all this," Shepard agreed, humming when Miranda's touch moved from her forehead and stroked down the side of her face. Unconsciously, the grip Shepard had on Miranda's hips tightened, and doubt and confusion ran across her face.

"What is it?" Miranda asked softly.

Shepard sighed. "Jack's still angry with me, and Ashley…I don't know where we stand. I still haven't even talked to the others yet."

"We're running out of time," said Miranda.

Shepard tried to focus on Miranda's weight atop her, the pleasant crush of their bodies and the way Miranda's breath caressed her lips as she leaned ever closer. It was better than focusing on what had happened in the past few days, or what would happen in the next. "No one knows that more than I do."

"Are you going to tell the others? About what happened with…with Harbinger and everything," Miranda clarified, searching the Commander's face with curious blue eyes.

"I wanted to," Shepard said, "I still want to. But maybe…maybe you're right." Her right hand left Miranda's hip to travel to the middle of her back, running up and down the curve of her spine. "Telling them I was indoctrinated won't exactly give them the vote of confidence they need, or inspire trust." Miranda hummed something noncommittal, resigning to let her thumb do the talking as it traced down the line of Shepard's jaw. "I'm not even sure if I trust myself anymore."

"You should," Miranda said. "Shepard, don't doubt yourself. You're more capable than anyone I've ever met, more focused on stopping the Reapers than anyone in the galaxy. If there's anyone we should be putting our trust in, it would be you."

"Miranda, I pointed a gun at you. I was going to kill you, and I let them kidnap our crew, and –"

"Harbinger did that," Miranda said firmly, holding Shepard's chin in her hand and forcing the other woman to look her in the eye. "Not you." Shepard said nothing. "It wasn't you."

"Miranda…"

"Don't argue." Miranda crushed her mouth to Shepard's, her hands on either side of the Commander's face. Shepard felt all rationality leave her body in a rush, and any words she was going to say caught in her throat as she groaned against the onslaught of Miranda's lips, the slickness of her probing tongue, the rasp of her teeth against Shepard's bottom lip. Just as abruptly, Miranda pulled away, breathless and flushed. "Now," she breathed, "what was it you said to me before?"

"Um." Thinking was still proving to be a difficult task for the Commander as her eyes remained glued on the swollen, bee-stung lips of the woman above her.

"We'll do this," Miranda reminded her, echoing the Commander's words from before. "And we'll do it together."

Heat borne of pride, confidence, and determination coursed throughout the Commander's body upon Miranda's words. She dug her fingers into Miranda's hips, surging up to capture the other woman's lips once more. "Okay," she murmured as she dragged her mouth away from Miranda's, choosing to taste the spot right behind Miranda's earlobe with her tongue. "Okay."

"You know," Miranda gasped, tangling her fingers in Shepard's hair and inadvertently pulling, sending delicious shocks of arousal down the Commander's spine. Her voice was shaky and rough as she spoke. "I…I can think of a few more things we can do together."

Shepard's hands were already fumbling at the zippers on Miranda's jumpsuit, her next words making Miranda's heart thud in her chest. "Why don't you show me?"