Jack stared absently at the vid screen, growing slightly frustrated when another simple thought that was meant to distract her came to an end. For the past hour and a half, she had thought about the kids back on Grissom Academy, her time spent in prison, the various crimes she had committed and what to get for her next tattoo, but every thought eventually came to an end and she was pulled back into reality to watch another few minutes of the immensely dull vid that she was being forced to watch.

The ex-convict glanced down at the woman who she had wrapped her arms around in a possessive fashion, and her frustration increased when she noticed the data pad that the older woman was staring at with intent.

"What the fuck, Cheerleader?" Jack's tone was thick with anger, although she restrained herself enough as not to shout.

"What?" Miranda didn't turn her head to look at the younger woman, and continued scrolling through a document detailing the indoctrination techniques that had been used by reapers when they invaded 4 years ago.

"You wanted to watch this theatre bullshit and now you're reading through some dumb fucking file!" Jack's voice gained volume towards the end as her restraint failed, and Miranda put the data pad down on the floor next to the sofa.

"Fine, I'll stop working," the brunette said, calm as ever, "and you should know that Macbeth is not 'theatre bullshit', as you so eloquently put it."

Fuck, I was hoping she would turn this off. Jack sighed and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling of their apartment, trying to think how she got to this point with her.

Oh right, she thought, when fucking Shepard called us out on all that sexual tension. Part of her always wanted to believe the Commander had said it because every time she fought with Liara, they always ended up fucking it out, but another part of her knew that wasn't true and that Shepard was almost as good as reading people as Miranda was. It wasn't long before the two women established an actual relationship.

Jack was torn from her thoughts by Miranda tracing the tattoos on her left arm with her fingertips, every now and again stopping to trace one of the many scars the powerful biotic had.

"Do you like them?" Miranda nodded and turned her head to kiss Jack's arm affectionately, "because I've been thinking that you should-"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Miri!"

"Jack, I am not getting a tattoo!" The brunette squirmed enough for her girlfriend to let her go, and she stood up and walked closer to the vid screen, pressing her left palm against her forehead, "you have asked me at least 7 times, and the answer will always be no."

Jack pushed herself up into a sitting position from the reclined position she was recently in, "aw, is the cheerleader worried it would rid her of her perfect looks?

Miranda turned around and rested her hands on her hips. Jabs at being perfect or a mistake were commonplace in the relationship, as it had been long since made clear that whichever woman was making the remark, was probably saying it out of fun and not with the intention to hurt.

"Oh please. I have scars on my face, I'm hardly going to worry about a bit of ink ruining my looks," that was true, as ravager firing at a wall near Miranda in the final minute of so of the war had caused twisted metal and brick to hit her, causing a large scar running from her left eyebrow to her lower lip and a slightly smaller scar running along her jawline. When she noticed the scars, Miranda became self-conscious for the first time in her life until Shepard had told her that perfection cannot exist without flaws, something Jack had always been annoyed by because she never managed to convince her that she looked fine.

"So let me tattoo you then!" The teacher threw her arms up as she stood up and walked over to her 40 year old girlfriend, who still looked as though she was south of 30, "if you're not worried about your looks then there's no reason you shouldn't get one."

The older woman considered lying and saying she hated tattoo's, but knew that would be too obvious as not 5 minutes before she had told Jack that she liked them. With every request, her false reasons to not get tattooed became less and less and she knew she would have to face the truth eventually. In the end she realised she could still get out of the truth.

"Fine," Miranda looked down and let out an irritated sigh that Jack could have sworn also wavered slightly, "fine…you can tattoo me."

"Fuck. Yes." The ex-convict fist pumped as her smile grew wider by the second, "get to the bedroom, I'll tattoo you there!"

Jack ran past her girlfriend, who slowly turned to follow her, not wanting to wait any longer than she had to to tattoo the woman. The only other time she could remember being this excited was when she found out the rumours about Miranda and anal sex were true, in fact that was probably the only time she had been more excited.

By the time Miranda had walked in, Jack was fishing around under the bed for the tattoo machine, and the older woman sat down on the bed beside her.

"Hey, lay down on your front, I want to tattoo your ass!"

"Jack, you are not tattooing my arse," the lack of assertiveness caused Jack to worry for a second, but then she remembered how nervous she was getting her first tattoo when she was 12, and assumed that Miranda was going through the same feeling.

"Okay, got it!" The heavily inked woman held the machine up in the air triumphantly, and readied it almost as quickly as she could a gun before turning to Miranda and, "Cheerleader?" The naturally pale woman looked even whiter than usual, and her eyes appeared slightly wider as she stared at the tattoo gun, "Randa, are you okay?"

The brunette shook her head before saying the she was fine, chastising herself when it didn't sound sincere. She felt slightly relieved when Jack seemed to shrug it off and grabbed at her arm, as it was easy access due to Miranda's vest, but she made the mistake of instinctively pulling away.

"Randa, you're fucking sweating! Are you sure you're okay?" Yes, Jack had been nervous getting her first, but not to the point she looked as though she would keel over any second. Clearly, the older woman was hiding something.

"I am honestly fine!" Her voice broke towards the end, and the look of realisation of Jack's face meant that the truth she had hid so well over the past few years had finally seeped out without her permission.

"Don't tell me Miranda 'I-am-better-than-everyone-else' Yvonne Lawson is afraid of needles," Jack smirked as the words left her mouth, bursting into a fit of laugher when she had finished speaking, which earned her a too-hard-to-be-playful jab from the was soon to be inked woman.

"It is not bloody funny, you arsehole!" The Australian was so enraged and upset at the reaction the American had given her that she felt a stray tear go down her face. Her trypanophobia was one of her most closely guarded secrets, something that even Liara was unaware of, and she was the shadow broker, the person with enough information to start a war in 10 minutes!

"It is, cheerleader!" Jack was in hysterics by this point, rolling around and clutching at her stomach, completely oblivious to the fact the older woman becoming completely distressed, "you can take down a heavy mech and kill a load of bug freaks, but fuck, if a needle ever goes near you!"

That did it, Miranda's anger finally beat her embarrassment and shame into submission and she stood up from the bed and slapped Jack hard in the face, "fuck you! Just because you aren't afraid of anything doesn't mean you have the bloody right to take the piss out of anyone who does actually have enough humanity to have a bloody fear."

Rubbing her face, Jack suddenly realised that she had made a huge mistake. Sure she had heard Miranda throw the words 'piss' and 'bloody' around a lot, something she assumed came from living in Australia until she was 16, but for her to use the word 'fuck', she knew she had done something to offend her.

"Randa, I'm sorry," she ignored the burning pain blooming on her left cheek, and reached out to grab the other woman's hands, only to have her own pushed away, "I didn't know it was that bad…fuck Miri, I'm so fucking sorry."

The cheerleader gave Jack a cold, hard stare for what felt like a century, but she eventually looked down, let out a breath, and looked up again. "It's okay, I should have told you in the first place"

"No, it's fucking not. You told me you didn't want to and I still fucking pressed it." Jack gestured for Miranda to sit in her lap, but the older woman's eyes wandered over to the tattoo machine still sitting on the bed, which Jack promptly picked up and threw across the room.

Now cuddling, Jack noticed that Miranda was still trembling, and noticed that the fear must have been intense if she was still freaking out now. She rubbed her back gently to calm her, and Miranda just sighed.

"Hey…so I heard that Hamlet with the full elcor cast is on tomorrow…do you want to go?" Jack looked Miranda in the eyes and she smiled, trying to show that she was being sincere, adding "I'm being serious" as extra proof.

"If you're offering…then yes," Miranda leaned in and gave Jack a passionate kiss, before the younger woman pulled back.

"You know…there was one thing I was afraid of, cheerleader," Jack smiled

"Hm?" Miranda arched her eyebrow

"You wanting to see that theatre bullshit." A playful jab was followed by both women laughed until their sides hurt and kissing until the night became intimate.

As Jack lay with an exhausted Miranda asleep in her arms, she only had one thought: If Shakespeare means sex, I'm going to have to look into it more.