Author's Note: Work started again, so I've been getting less and less time to write. Sorry about any case, this story will meander a bit, as I never really bought into the whole idea that Jack and Miranda, two very contentious individuals, can get together easily, even if they have mellowed out. Thanks for reading.


"Samantha tells me you have nightmares"

Jack pauses, a spoonful of curry comically poised in front of her mouth. She puts it down, not looking anywhere but at her food, and certainly not at Miranda.

They're seated at a fast-food joint somewhere in Zakera Ward, just a short ride away from Citadel University. Miranda had swung by once again, and to her surprise Jack wasn't the least bit perturbed, or even annoyed. "You stalking me Cheerleader?" she said, before smirking and climbing into the car. There had been no other exchange, just a smile in return and an unspoken agreement to shut up and get in.

It was strange, her relationship with Miranda. They were never really friends; practically enemies when they were on the Normandy. That kind of hate breeds an odd kind of familiarity, one where they aren't insecure around each other, because whatever doubts they have about themselves are already acknowledged by the other.

Yes, what they have might not be friendship. But whatever they it is, it's pretty close.

Still, concern is a new ingredient in their relationship.

"She told you about that?"

"Yes"

Miranda keeps eating like she hasn't brought up anything huge. When she looks up, meeting Jack's eyes, there are flecks of curry sauce stuck around her mouth. Jack can't help but laugh; she covers her mouth.

"You're reacting better than I thought you would"

Jack shakes her head, shoulders trembling with stifled laughter. "No," she says, the word coming out in a muffle with the food still in her mouth.

"What?" says Miranda, confused, "What is it?"

Jack swallows, takes her napkin from the dispenser and reaches over the table to wipe Miranda's mouth.

"Oh," says Miranda, "thanks. Let me-" she tries to take the napkin but Jack swats her hand away.

"What are you a kid? I got this, stop squirming"

Miranda sighs and stays still, looking the most childish Jack has ever seen her. She laughs, tossing the napkin to the side. Her smile fades as she considers Miranda's initial comment.

"She told you about that huh?"

"Yeah"

Jack leans her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand and looking off into the distance of Zakera. The multicolored neon pulsates placidly along the Ward. She smiles. "I would be mad right now if you weren't eating like a kindergartener. So fucking funny"

"I'm glad I amuse you"

"Ha! Hmmm," Jack fidgets with her hands. "Yeah I get nightmares sometimes"

"About…Teltin?"

"Yes about Teltin! Fuck, what else would I have nightmares about!?" Jack looks around at the sudden silence of the restaurant; all heads are turned on her. "Argh, look I don't want to talk about this, so…whatever you have to say…just don't say it. I just got done with a long day, and I want to relax, in silence, and eat some curry. Can we do that? Please?"

"Jack…"

"I already said-"

"No, Jack, please let me talk." She takes a deep breath. "Just…okay? During the war," Miranda breathes, "during the war I met up with Shepard to…" she sighs, "okay, this is a little hard. *Ahem* I met up with Shepard to…apologize, for wanting to put a chip in her head when I was rebuilding her"

Jack waits.

"Before I met Shepard I kept pushing people away in some misguided attempt at being strong. But I'm really not. No one is. I get really insecure sometimes which is," she laughs self-depreciatingly, "so far from the perfect ideal I'm supposed to embody. Look, what I'm trying to say is that I've been trying to change Jack, little by little every day. Which is why…which is why I want to apologize to you too"

"Oh no. Please don't bring your drama this way"

But Miranda goes on. "I'm sorry Jack, for everything I said to you back on the Normandy, and for everything Cerberus did. It was obviously their fault the entire time; I was just too blinded by my loyalty to accept it. I'm sorry, and I really, really hope you can forgive me"

They look at each other for a few seconds, and for one of those seconds Miranda is convinced that Jack is about to hit her. But all she does is lean back in her chair, shake her head, take a deep breath, and begin to say something, before stopping herself and shaking her head again.

Jack pinches the bridge of her nose as if to ward off a headache. She's too tired to get angry at such a galling apology, or perhaps she sees too much of herself in the woman across the table, either way she shivers as a warm, unfamiliar sensation slithers up her spine.

"Miranda…" she says, a grudging grin tugging at her lips, "you suck at apologies"

Miranda smiles, "This is actually the first time you've called me by my name"

"Yeah well don't get used to it. You're still a bitch." A momentary silence. "Have you seriously been worried about that all this time?"

"Well yeah"

"You really have changed"

"So have you"

Both of them shrivel back into their chairs in unusual shyness, galled at the realization that maybe friends is what they are.


Though the Grissom Facility is an Alliance program, it is still part of Citadel University, and as such its instructors are subject to mandated training by University Administration. In Jack's case, this means going to an exclusive meditation class on the Presidium.

It is a small class, hidden at the back of one of the Presidium's many over-decorated office buildings. For the most part the program is tailored to Asari, but other species are welcome. The cost is steep, and the work difficult, but it's worth it, improving the performance of even the most hard-pressed commando.

Jack, naturally, is the only human student. But she is not the only non-Asari.

"And now stretch your right legs back," says the instructor in a soothing voice, "and hold the pose…I want you to feel the clarity in your mind as your muscles work in unison to bring you to peak awareness"

Jack complies, as do the other students; twenty-some Asari, all assuming difficult Yoga-like positions.

"Argh, dammit." The Turian next to her struggles with the instruction, trying and failing not to wobble.

"Stop screwing around Kalle," whispers Jack, her expression perfectly serene, "you're ruining my concentration"

"How can you people move like this!?" he shoots back, flailing on one leg with his other leg lamely curled behind him.

"I've seen Turians be flexible before, stop being a pussy"

"Flexibility isn't everything! There's strength, agility, endurance, rea-"

"No talking please," says the instructor, materializing from nowhere. Kalle squawks, stumbling to the floor. For her part, Jack maintains a serene expression, closing her eyes and motivating every muscle in her face to keep from laughing. "Jack, your biotic field is wavering. Raise your palm up"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." The instructor moves behind her, delicately adjusting her posture and shifting Jack's wrist. It is a professional move, but Jack stiffens a little at the physical intimacy.

The instructor makes a little throaty laugh. "You're doing fine, Jack." She helps up Kalle, lifting him to his feet and getting him get into the proper position. He winces as she forcefully contorts his limbs into place. "There. This is how the bladed plumage pose should be done. Don't you feel more focused now?"

"I feel only pain"

She chuckles. "Fight through it"

Kalle grunts, his pose not nearly as elegant as it should be. His avian muscles quiver in discomfort and his biotic field sputters comically in the air. Jack can't help breaking a smile as she transitions into the next pose, taking pity on her friend as he groans, joints creaking into position. The session goes on like this for another thirty minutes until finally the instructor brings the day's exercises to a close.

Jack slowly brings her body into a relaxed stand, muscles burning and triumphant.

"Thank you everyone," says the instructor, making the customary bow, "that was very good. I'll see you the day after tomorrow"

Kalle slumps to the ground. "Owowowowow"

Jack offers him a hand. "Come on man, have some dignity"

"My body is broken…urgh, I have no dignity," nevertheless he accepts her hand, climbing shakily to his feet. "Improving my biotics isn't worth this"

"Come on big guy. Let's go get you a burrito"

He shakes his head. "Can't today. Boss has me doing overtime"

Jack laughs, "I hope you get paid well. When I was working for a spectre I didn't get shit"

"To put up with this? Jondam pays me way too little. Either way, it looks like you'll have to stick around anyway"

"What are you talking about?"

He points behind her to the instructor standing patiently two feet away, a patient smile on her face.

"Jack, may I have a word?"

"Uh, yeah, sure"

She waves goodbye to Kalle who exaggeratedly limps to the locker rooms where he will likely change bashfully behind a towel, holding it up in front of him while bunch of leering and un-self-conscious Asari snicker and giggle. She can sympathize; the first time she had to get changed in front of them she got a flood of questions about her tattoos.

"Your friend is making admirable progress in Athamic meditation"

"You should tell him that. Fucker won't stop whining about how painful it is"

The instructor laughs. "Perhaps I should. You too are making marked improvements. I remember when you first came to me," she shakes her head, "so impatient"

"Yeah…" Jack rubs the back of her head, "thanks for tolerating me. This stuff isn't exactly my thing"

"Well you've taken to it naturally." The instructor smiles, and as she does so Jack realizes that her soothing speech has been replaced by a markedly more normal one. "It's no trouble, Jack. It's my policy to be patient for my students, especially the ones with the most potential"

Jack cracks a grin, "And the pretty ones right?"

If she was expecting the instructor to be flustered then she is disappointed. The Asari slowly brings her palm to Jack's cheek. "Especially the pretty ones"

Jack hesitates, at a loss for words, as people are wont to be when they are out-flirted. "Y-yeah, cool," which was the least cool thing she could think to say, "Um, what did you want to talk to me about again?"

The instructor smiles, a charming expression that might have been reassuring if it wasn't so implicitly predatory. "I was going to flirt with you for a little while, maybe tell you how pretty you are," erratic butterflies flutter in Jack's stomach as the instructor draws a little closer, "and when you got a little receptive, I was going to ask you if wanted to go out with me sometime"

"S-seriously?"

The instructor holds her gaze, purple crest marks almost hypnotically bright against azure skin. "Are you surprised? You're a beautiful, mysterious woman, Jack. Half of the Asari here are interested in you. I hope I'm not coming on too strong but…I thought I would get ahead of crowd"


It is a pensive Jack that returns to the apartment that night, absentmindedly mumbling a response to Traynor's exuberant "Welcome home!" She slumps onto the couch, kicking off her shoes and raising her feet onto Traynor's lap. The data analyst raises her eyebrow, putting down her book slate and giving Jack her most questioning gaze. Jack, in turn, stares intently at her own feet.

"Is…there a reason why you have interrupted my reading with your smelly feet?"

"My feet aren't smelly"

"Riiiiiight." Jack keeps staring at her feet. "What's going on Jack?"

Jack reaches into her pocket and pulls out card, flicking in Traynor's direction. It lands on the swell of Traynor's bosom, and she shoots Jack a wry look before plucking it off and reading it.

"Shylene L'Droxis." She looks up, "Who is that?"

"My meditation teacher"

"And she's the whole reason you're so discombobulated?"

"She asked me out"

"Oh…oh wow. Your teacher asked you out? On a date? That's interesting"

"Yeah. Interesting"

"Is this a good thing? A bad thing? You're kind of hard to read right now"

"It's…I don't know," she looks over at Traynor, "You know that I don't really date people"

Traynor laughs, "It's not hard. Er, well it can be, if you let it. Let me start over: it's simple enough to figure out. Besides, if she's the one who asked you out then she's the one taking the lead. Just enjoy the ride"

"I guess"

Traynor takes stock of Jack's subdued voice; "You know if you aren't interested then you should just say no"

"No, it's not that"

"Then what?"

Jack looks up at Traynor, expression strained, pensive. Traynor isn't sure what she's thinking, which is strange as Jack has long been a heart-on-her-sleeve kind of person.

"Never mind, it's stupid." Jack swings her feet to the ground, relieving Traynor's lap. She looks at the card. "Ya know, maybe I'll try this out"

"Spectacular! Ooh, I've never seen you prepare for a date before. Let me know when you get to part where you have trouble finding an outfit. I absolutely need to be there"

"…"

"What?"