Right Now.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the spelling mistakes.
Note: Some trigger warnings, discussion of suicidal thoughts and sex if these are themes you are uncomfortable with please proceed with caution.
Crackling fire, smooth leather, dancing lights, a neon green bottle of some Asari alcohol and an apartment so big she has no idea what to do with. This is where Commander Shepard is sitting, bare feet curling into the carpeted floor, gazing out at Silversun Strip. Her body has sunk deeply into the leather sofa as though it is trying to hug her. She isn't sure how long she has been sitting there but Shepard has no desire to check the time, her omitool deactivated for the time being. The Commander knows as soon as it's back online it will buzzing excitedly with new correspondence from all corners of the galaxy but she cannot bear to think of it right now. Shepard needs this moment to just...be.
Tense shoulders sag and she leans further into the safety of the sofa – a luxury in her line of work. She may have scoffed at Joker for joining Cerberus because of leather chairs but he did have a point - not that she would tell him of course. Comfort, safety and being able to catch her breath were hard to come by and arguably now is not the time for such indulgences. There is so much to do; there was always so much to do, it is all Shepard can remember. Brown eyes close as memories fleet by, various battlefields, various missions, the times where names were added to the list of people who had died under her command, the times where she had almost died and the times where she wished she had died...
Opening her eyes, Shepard looks out the window, at the unopened bottle and slightly pats her knees in a random tune. The Commander knows this feeling that's creeping around her, making her anxious and flaring up old wounds; old wounds that she thought would have healed by now or at least been pushed so far away they couldn't resurface. However that is wishful thinking, Shepard knows her mind is the emptiest when she is out on a mission, running through destroyed ruins, shooting god knows what and pushing ahead, needing to get over the next hurdle, needing to see that she has done everything right. The burn of the adrenaline and the drumming of her heart only proves that she is alive, that she is breathing and right now she hates that she is.
Hollow eyes train on the green liquid inside of the clear bottle, honestly she only chose it because of the colour. The apartment lights are on, the dancing lights from outside stream in and the glaring yellow of the fire all highlight the expectations the galaxy has of Shepard, she has no where to hide; no matter how much she wants to. It would be all too easy to end it all: The Commander could just put a bullet through her head, simple, practical but not that creative; she could over charge her implants and blow up the apartment and herself, that would certainly be dramatic or she could take a skycar as high as possible and cut the thrusters to leave her to hit the ground...Shepard sighs.
She thinks about taking her own life quite often, it wouldn't be hard to die out on the field, just drop her shields and take a lot of bullets but that wouldn't be right, Shepard knows it. Shepard knows if she were finally take that step she would want to say goodbye and there are too many people to inform. She is sure she would lose motivation to kill herself by the end of it all, Shepard chuckles and shakes her head. She is being silly or is she? Shepard has been fighting for the past three years to save the galaxy from its own ignorance, she has put herself, her team and countless others at risk to keep fighting for that chance to live but here Shepard is, wishing hers would end. Wishing someone else could do it, why did it have to be her?
It is heavy, this feeling sitting on her chest, making it hard to breathe when people turn so effortlessly to ask her what the next moves are, how to fight the next battle, how to survive. How can anyone ask her that? The woman who can't sleep at night because the dead want to haunt her, the woman who blew up a Mass Effect Relay and almost wiped out a whole species and the women who had come so close to pulling the trigger on a headstrong friend. Shepard grits her teeth, growling, she stands up and moves to lean on the window. Forearm bracing her weight as her head rests against it. When you look at everything she is, the Commander can draw up uncomfortable similarities between the Reapers and herself. She even has, well had, a clone! What need is there for her anyway? Get a clone! If that one died no matter get another one...everything is hard. Nothing is easy, nothing is given, Shepard always fights for everything, all the time and she isn't sure just how much longer she can continue. A single, hot tear runs down her cheek and the Commander slides to the floor so that her side is leaning against the cool window. Her hair falling from behind her ears, curtains her face as she just sits and wallows.
The Silversun Strip is buzzing with all kinds of life, the neon lights illuminating places of leisure, the chatter of various species...it was hard to tell that they are all in the middle of war. However, sometimes it is necessary to have such places even though such energy and resources should be diverted to more pressing needs. She catches the thought and chides herself, she shouldn't be judging when she herself is out looking for a place to just be. Shepard always tries to find time to relax...with her but she couldn't be selfish; no matter how much she wants to protect the Vanguard.
Heeled boots, dark jeans and a loose shirt are her armour for the walk to the only place she feels truly safe and the only place where she might catch the busy Commander – no matter how brief. Having screened through the Commander's messages, old habits die hard, it was odd that none had been answered today. Sure Shepard took time off but usually it was an hour or so at the most, the lithe woman side steps a human and Vorcha complaining about headstrong Vanguards in their team. She smirks, that's the strength of the Vanguards, especially human ones. She knows first hard trying to control the enthusiastic Commander from their time fighting the Collectors. Shepard was always charging off trying to quell the hordes of insect like monsters so her team-mates wouldn't have to work so hard.
Miranda is walking down the windowed hallway, the apartment door is waiting at the end and catches her reflection: her hair is tied up with two strand framing her face. She looks different, younger – not the previous top assassin of Cerberus. Another thing her Commander had saved her from, Miranda looks for a second longer before heading to the door. She feels a lot softer which is strange considering she should be on edge with everything that is happening but Miranda can't shake the feeling that perhaps soft is what the Commander needs right now. More people are dying, people that are close, too close. She knows how Shepard tortures herself over every loss, over every decision and at first she was quick to snap, quick to remind that this is expected but that was before Shepard showed her the power of softness...
The door slides open, the code firmly ingrained in Miranda's mind and she immediately sees the slumped form over to the left of the apartment, sniffling softly. Resisting the urge to run over to the upset Shepard, Miranda knows to be soft with her approach, despite Shepard's relatively relaxed and playful nature, the Commander keeps her darker emotions to herself so to be alerted to another's presence would simply to cause her to shut the darkness back in; instead of allowing it to air out. Calmly she walks to Shepard and crouches,
"Hey," Miranda whispers, her bare hand brushing against Shepard's cheek to tuck her hair behind her ear, so she can see her partner's face. Shepard's jaw tightens as fresh tears falls from her eyes, no response. Miranda studies the hollow look in Shepard's brown eyes and feels her heart ache. Changing positions, Miranda sits with her back to the window – ignoring her instincts – and encourages Shepard to lie in her lap, facing into the apartment. Shepard moves easily like a doll, limp and lifeless...almost. Miranda feels Shepard's left hand clutching her knee, Shepard knows she's there but she isn't quite ready to speak, not yet, so Miranda is content to stroke Shepard's hair. Letting the soft tresses run through her fingers over and over, it wasn't often she went without gloves but she is glad she did. Miranda couldn't remember the last time when they had sat like this, even though Shepard is clearly hurting; the older woman basks in the moment.
"Miri," Shepard murmurs, her hand clutching tighter at the knee. Miranda smiles, another one of Shepard's talents is that she can become so small, so innocent like a child. It is amazing ability to possess considering what the Spectre has been through but the big brown eyes certainly help. Shepard turns to look up at her, brown eyes clouded with fear, uncertainty and a desperation to be saved.
"So finally decided to talk to me?" Miranda raises a playful eyebrow but immediately regrets it as she sees guilt mix into Shepard's eyes. Miranda is good with words but words with feelings have always been difficult for the woman. The older woman scratches her collarbone, a nervous habit that Shepard has picked up on in their relationship.
"I...I know I shouldn't be like this, right now," Shepard sighs but Miranda is relieved that the Vanguard is talking because she is far more comfortable listening. She continues to stroke Shepard's hair, trying to soothe the troubles running through the Commander's head. Shepard closes her eyes, she hates speaking like this but knows it won't leave her until she confronts it and Shepard is no coward.
"It's hard, this war, everything. I haven't been ok for a long time Miranda. Surely someone who isn't all there should not be heading up this whole operation. This is clearly poor management on your part." Miranda scoffs,
"As much as I liked to tell myself back when we were Cerberus I could never manage you Shepard, you always made sure I had something other than my reports to deal with." Miranda sees some of the fear ebbing away from the Commander's eyes, humour always made her more comfortable.
"I don't recall you complaining Miss Lawson,"
"That's because you stopped listening to my complaints Commander," Shepard chuckles and snuggles into Miranda's warm stomach. She is lucky, she could fall into such dark places but Miranda's presence always clears her head.
"You've been thinking about it again, haven't you?" Miranda's question isn't accusatory, isn't disappointed; just acknowledging that she knows what's really running through the Spectre's mind.
"It's not uncommon for people in our line of work, the pressures, the risks and the aftermaths of traumatic events. Suicide just gives us a different option – another perspective." Shepard smiles, trust Miranda to make it sound simple and even positive but Shepard knows the positivity is only in the thinking aspect not the final step.
"If we weren't free to think of our deaths how can we justify what we do when we live? Acknowledging it will happen either by our own hand or whatever life throws our way, it forces us to really appreciate what we have now. Right now." Shepard looks up at her partner, the moon kissed skin, the sharp blue eyes; if Shepard chooses to end her life in any of the previous methods she had been thinking the only thing she knows for sure is that she would never see Miranda again.
Shepard pulls herself into a sitting position and turns to face Miranda, their foreheads resting against each other; their noses brushing. The softness of the words and the softness of Miranda's skin, how could the darkness stand a chance against such power?
"I know I won't ever do it because I'd never want to hurt you Miri," Shepard whispers and Miranda closes the distance between their lips in a slow, lingering kiss. When they split apart Miranda stares into her eyes,
"Even if you did do it I'd just bring you back to life...again," Shepard laughs,
"Oh Miss Lawson you are a creepy scientist at heart!"
"You forgot beautiful," Miranda chuckles and pushes Shepard away before standing up. Shepard's eyes trail up the amazing body, even in civilian clothing Miranda is flawless.
"How could I ever forget that when you look gorgeous in everything," Shepard sighs dreamily,
"I look even better without anything so if we're done talking I'd like to make use of one of the beds in this place," Miranda extends a hand for Shepard to take and pulls her Vanguard up.
"How about all of the beds?" Shepard grins.
"Don't make promises you can't keep Commander," Miranda purrs into Shepard's ear before heading off into the nearest bedroom. Shepard watches as Miranda's hips sway with every step, Miranda's hips always swayed but Shepard knows the invitation is only for her. The Vanguard rushes forward into the room to see Miranda facing the bed the Operative's hands slide up her curves to hold position behind her head, waiting. Shepard takes her place behind the beautiful woman, rough hands resting on flared hips, Miranda tilts her head giving Shepard the perfect opportunity to litter the smooth neck in soft kisses. The skin is warm and Shepard can feel Miranda hum in approval as the Commander pulls her round backside into her pelvis and grinds herself against her partner. Jolts of pleasure run through their bodies with each press, Shepard feels the burning wetness between her legs. It never took much to have the strong Commander soaking wet but then again her partner is the sexiest woman in the galaxy, anything less would be an insult.
Miranda feels Shepard moaning into her neck, the heat between them becoming unbearable. Miranda spins around in Shepard's embrace, pulling the Spectre's lips onto hers, the heat, the rough breathing and jagged moans fuels Miranda's need to make Shepard hers. To remind the warrior that no matter how dark her thoughts could get, the Operative would be the one to wipe them away, she would be the Vanguard's anchor because Miranda is sure she would drown without Shepard.
Nipping swollen lips, Miranda pushes her tongue into Shepard's mouth swallowing the groans of her partner. Shepard's hands are under her shirt running along her flesh of her stomach, cupping and squeezing her breasts as Miranda clutches Shepard's hair trying to meld their bodies together. However the need to just stop and breathe scratches at their lungs and they pull away, panting. Miranda uses the time to unzip the N7 hoody from Shepard's shoulders, followed by her compression shirt. Shepard sighs as the cool air swirls around her heated form, Miranda hugs her and unclasps her bra, leaving Shepard naked from the waist up. Shepard moves to undress Miranda but the Operative has other plans and Shepard whines as she is pushed onto the fluffy bed.
Miranda chuckles as she climbs on top of the Spectre,
"Don't pout Commander,"
"I'm not," Shepard replies putting more emphasis on her pouting lips. Miranda rolls her eyes as she sits on Shepard's hips and pulls off the shirt and unties her hair. Shepard wildly looks at all the exposed skin, her desire to claim it all rising but the way Miranda is watching her; warning her. Shepard grips the sheets as Miranda removes her jeans leaving the woman in a black bra and N7 shorts?
"Hey! When did you take them?" Shepard asks, trust Miranda to take her standard issue underwear and make them look sexy.
"Perhaps I came by when you weren't here," Miranda leans over Shepard pressing her body against the Vanguard's to whisper in her sensitive ear, "Perhaps I pleasured myself in your bed and needed a fresh pair of underwear." Miranda ends her sentence by licking the length of Shepard's ear, earning a sharp gasp and an "Oh fuck," from the Spectre.
Miranda catches Shepard's mouth in a forceful kiss, her thick hair falling to the side as she sinks her full weight into the Spectre. Miranda loves hearing every noise, every whimper, every curse that leaves the Commander's mouth, because she knows she is the only one to do this to the powerful woman.
The only one to reduce her to a whimpering mess of muscle, sweat and sex.
Miranda trails a hand over the terrain of soft flesh and firm muscle, she purposely bypasses Shepard's breasts in favour of disappearing under the band of her trousers and under the last piece of clothing. Shepard pulls away from the kiss to cry out as Miranda slides through her wetness, pressing into her swollen clit but the pressure vanishes as Miranda retracts her hand.
"Miri, oh god." Shepard moans as Miranda casually cleans her fingers, her skilled tongue curling along her talented digits. Shepard is already at breaking point but knows Miranda still wants to play, that much was clear because they still had clothing on. If Miranda was impatient they'd have both been thoroughly satisfied by now but the gorgeous woman was dragging it out, making Shepard impossibly wet, impossibly hot and impossibly alive. However she didn't have to wait much longer as Miranda finally takes off the last of Shepard's clothing, Shepard sighs gratefully.
"Now Commander," Uh oh, Shepard knows that tone. Miranda is in the mood to completely ruin her. Miranda rolls her hips into Shepard's, impatient at the lack of response,
"Ye...yes Miri?" Miranda knows Shepard loves and hates it when she effortlessly rolls her hips into the Spectre's but Miranda still has underwear on so really she is being merciful.
"Just answer when spoken to," Miranda rolls her hips and grabs both of Shepard's dark breasts in her hand, roughly kneading the delightful flesh. Miranda loves the contrast in skin tones between them, Shepard's even tanned skin shines beautifully when covered in sweat. All of the perfectly sculpted muscles quiver and shake from her ministrations, the body she had reconstructed living and writhing underneath her fingertips. The feeling always makes Miranda drunk on power, this is her own creation reacting to her, breathing for her; Shepard is hers and she isn't going to let anyone, even Shepard herself take that away from her.
Shepard is breathing harshly, her chest rising rapidly, she couldn't remember the last time Miranda had treated her like this. Sure Miranda is always dominate – a trait that is endlessly erotic but this. Shepard moans as Miranda's lips wrap around one of her nipples, the heat, the teeth and the tugging has Shepard hissing and lifting her hips. Her thighs are coated with an embarrassing amount of wetness and looking at the pleasure on Miranda's face as she suckles on her nipple, sends another wave of arousal through her. Shepard is sure she is going to burst, her skin, her nerves, her emotions are spiking – Miranda rakes her nails down Shepard's six pack.
"Miranda please!" Shepard shouts, "I need you please I...I can't, it's too much!" Miranda smirks, she has Shepard exactly where she wants her. Sliding down between Shepard's legs Miranda takes a moment to survey the utter mess that is her beautiful warrior.
"Hold yourself open for me," Miranda commands and Shepard's hands shoot down to pull apart her own folds forcing her aching sex out to Miranda, for Miranda and waits. Shepard's breathing is still harsh, her body is tense with anticipation and adrenaline.
"Fuck," Miranda growls, with Shepard's clit so close she is losing focus of what she wants to achieve before she devours the whimpering Spectre laid out in front of her. Miranda clears her throat as Shepard whines and shifts closer,
"Shepard do you trust me?"
"Yes!" A strangled sob leaves the Spectre and Miranda presses the faintest of kisses on the pink clit as a reward for answering but she can she Shepard trembling.
"Do you know how much you mean to me?"
"Yesss," Miranda kisses her clit again but harder.
"Are you enjoying this?"
"Oh fuck yes," A long lick along the swollen ridge.
"Then stay alive so I can keep doing this to you," with that Miranda consumes Shepard, with well placed kisses and luscious licks, flicking over Shepard's stiff clit. The pace is impossibly fast, alternating between lapping at Shepard's entrance and her clitoris Miranda gives her Spectre no time to think, no time to breathe, only the chance to feel alive.
Shepard is so far gone, the pressure in her clit is full, all possible energy is being channelled into the inevitable climax that Miranda is diligently working toward. Shepard is silent, her body arching, only the sound of Miranda lapping against rings in her ears. With one last lick Shepard explodes, crying out as tears spill from her eyes and wetness between her legs. Miranda keeps licking but slower just to help Shepard ride the aftershocks of her orgasm. Shepard feels like mush, she isn't sure if her body is still there and her mind; god her mind was so empty, no thoughts, no memory: just existing. Shepard feels her face spreading in a goofy grin, despite her tears she is just there suspended in time. Miranda moves up to hug the Vanguard on her side, wiping away the stray tears lingering on her cheeks.
"Wow," Shepard murmurs breathlessly, Miranda kisses her forehead smiling down at Shepard whilst trailing her fingers over the lines of her muscles.
"Still with me Shepard? Didn't short circuit you did I? Shepard knows Miranda is smirking at her, the blissful haze is lifting and she looks at Miranda.
"You're still wearing clothes," Shepard states looking confused.
"I just wanted to show you living isn't all bad," Miranda leans down and places a soft kiss on Shepard's swollen lips making the Spectre groan as she tastes herself.
"Though if you're quite done marvelling at my talent I thought you wanted to use all the beds this place had," Miranda winks and lies on her back. Shepard's eyes scan the beautiful view, the flushed skin, the messy hair and those intoxicating blue eyes.
Shepard grins and slides over Miranda and catching red lips in a rough kiss. Maybe falling into darkness is ok because Shepard trusts Miranda will always show her how to live for the now; and right now is all that matters.
Ok sooooo this might have been written completely out of character but this is how I feel Miranda and Shepard's relationship would be like because I LOVE MIRANDA. But pop a review and let me know your thoughts, if nothing else I hope the sex was good XD - Dark Shadows 01