Fucking crutches. It had been five months now, and they kept telling her that she still oughtn't put her whole weight on her left leg.

At least Jack was well enough to have something to do again. Even if she had to do it sitting down. Shifting debris was not exactly fulfilling, but it needed doing, and doing it with biotics of her dimension was a whole lot more effective than any other way. Like a human crane.

It felt good to be this wanted, though. And not wanted as in dead or alive. The Alliance was positively flooding her with requests. She'd even gotten offers from private citizens. She wanted to take them up on them, wanted the money to go into rebuilding the academy. But she was not yet at the height of her powers again. She grew tired so much faster these days.

. . .

She was an amazing sight.

There was a crowd of people watching Jack, as she sat in front of a collapsed office block, hands glowing, making massive pieces of rubble soar through the air and into containers. Looking bored.

She'd seen teams of biotics do that before, but they weren't half as good in a group than Jack was on her own.

For a long time, Miranda just stood there and watched her like everyone else, heart beating painfully hard. It had taken weeks to find her, she'd been moved around Europe several times.

Her hair was even longer now, and she was downright covered up, at least by Jack's standards, dressed in baggy black pants and a black tank top that was hardly even tight. A pair of crutches leant against the stone block she was sitting on.

Only when she stopped for a moment, glow dissipating, did Miranda finally approach.

"Need help with that?" she asked, sitting down next to Jack.

"Fuck!" was all Jack said, staring at her.

"Not right here."

"Fuck, Miri..." Jack's voice broke.

"You look surprised. Didn't I say I'd find you?" Miranda slipped her arm around her.

"You did." Jack leant her head against Miranda's shoulder, let herself be pulled closer.

"So. Would you care for that terrible first date?"

"Sure. But I don't think there are any restaurants right now. Rationing and all."

"Oh, we'll find a place to eat out," Miranda whispered against her ear.

"Hah. You've always been so naughty, for someone who used to be so uptight."

"Just one of my many qualities."

"You're also a pretty good kisser, if memory serves."

Miranda put her hand beneath Jack's chin, gently tilted her head up, and kissed her deeply.

There was a burst of applause and quite a number of catcalls, and then Jack threatened to warp a lot of people, which made their audience scatter. Miranda just kept stroking her neck languidly, feeling inexplicably light-headed.

"How have you been?"

"Oh, it was great, just lovely. I hade a nice little encounter with a handful of brutes right before they all just stopped working. Then I was out cold for a while. Then I stayed in hospital for a few months. It was just one long party. The kind where people keep dying from all the fun."

Miranda's stomach clenched painfully.

"How badly were you injured?"

"You're going to be so turned on by my new scars."

"You're impossible."

"You love it."

"I do."

She kissed her again.

"There'll be a few positions we won't be able to do until my leg has healed," Jack muttered after a moment.

"Sounds like I'll have to be in control for a while. I can live with that."

"How have you been?"

"I have a pretty impressive scar of my own now. I'll show you later. And I committed patricide. More or less justifiably. Got my sister out of harm's way, as best I could. Then I put together my own special tasks force and joined the war effort. Somehow, I survived without more than a few bruises and scratches."

"Good." Jack let her hands trail over Miranda's back. "I still have some work to do here, but I'll be done around sunset. I have a place, not too far from here."

"Look at you being busy and responsible all the time." Miranda smiled. "I'll see if I can't get something special for dinner in the meantime."

Jack leant in for another kiss.

"You do that. Come get me later."

"Oh, I will."

. . .

Jack had never imagined she'd really be this awkward. Hadn't she fucked Miranda dozens of times?

The problem was, it had been all they'd ever done. Stolen moments, secrets, feelings conflicting at best. She'd never had a date in her entire life, nothing she'd ever even done with Murtock could really qualify as such. Hell, she'd probably have punched him if he'd ever suggested...

Now there was something she didn't want to think about. Not ever, but especially not right now.

Miranda Lawson of all people. How had that happened?

Jack knew she was in too deep already, and she didn't even want to fight it. She'd been fighting everything for so long. Her gaze travelled almost furtively over Miranda. At least she'd stopped wearing those things. Looked almost understated in black slacks and a shirt whose neckline dropped enticingly just a little too low for respectable. Jack wanted to run her tongue along it. Maybe leave a bite that would be visible every time Miranda shifted...

"Are you done?"

"Huh?"

Miranda's lips twitched briefly, then she seemed to force herself to look serious.

"Eating. Are you done?"

Jack nodded mutely.

"I found us some dessert."

Jack's eyes widened. It looked ever so slightly soggy, but there was an entire chocolate cake in the box Miranda unpacked.

"You must have sold your soul for that!"

"Yeah, but the look on your face was worth it."

"Where's yours?"

Miranda tilted her head back and laughed.

"You could never eat that on your own! You're tiny."

"I've spent the day lifting boulders, I need the energy."

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"Eat it. I dare you."

"Nah, I can share. I'm a paragon of selflessness."

"Of course you are."

Miranda watched Jack eat for a while, astonished by her uncharacteristic timidity. Somehow she looked unsure of herself, of the entire situation. Miranda wondered what was going on inside her.

Sometimes she forgot how much younger Jack was.

"You've got chocolate on your cheek." She bent forward and brushed her fingertips over her skin, then licked Jack's lips, which parted at once.

"I'm done with dessert. You?"

The look Jack gave her made her think it may have been the wrong move, but then Jack said: "Bedroom is through there."

Miranda almost reached out to help her up, then thought better of it. She'd tried to play it down, but it was blatantly obvious that Jack hated the crutches, hated being weak, and offering help would probably have upset her.

She seemed upset enough already.

The bedroom was as tiny as the rest of the apartment, no more than a bed and a wardrobe. Considering what most people had to make do with these days, it was a palace.

Jack sat down and put the crutches aside, then looked up at Miranda.

"What's wrong, Jack? Just tell me."

"Look... fuck. I've never given a second thought about what people thought of me and what I look like..."

Miranda sat down next to her.

"But?" she asked gently.

"This is different. And I... Oh screw it." She pulled her top off and turned slightly. "Have a look."

Miranda grimaced at the sight of the large red welts cutting across Jack's back, breaking her tattoos.

"That must have been painful," she whispered.

"I have a high threshold for pain."

"Do they still hurt?"

"Barely."

"Jack. This doesn't bother me. You're the most amazingly beautiful woman I've ever seen. Everything about you just makes me feel on fire."

Jack tensed visibly.

"Don't say that shit, Lawson!"

Miranda put her hands on Jack's shoulders, turned her towards her and looked into her eyes.

"If you have doubts about this, just tell me. It's alright. But don't doubt me."

"What do you even want with me? Look at you. You could have anyone. And I'm just... this."

"I don't want just anyone. I want the only person who has ever seen beyond the façade. I want the person who forced me to doubt myself, to face... everything that was wrong with me. And that woman happens to be very, very attractive, and I can hardly keep myself from jumping her."

She stroked Jack's cheek lightly.

"But if you don't want this, if it's too much right now, I can back off."

"Life was so much easier when all I had to do was survive." Jack rubbed her forehead. "Alright, I'm confused by all this. Us. Feelings and shit like that. Doesn't mean I want you to back off."

"What do you want?"

Jack let her fingers trail along Miranda's neckline, then she bent forward and traced the same path with her lips.

"Oh," Miranda muttered, let herself be pushed back onto the bed. Jack lay down beside her, on her good side, and started undressing her slowly.

"That one's impressive, too." Jack's fingertips skimmed over the scar on Miranda's side.

"Just a scratch. Bastard got what was coming to him."

Jack bent over her and started kissing and licking her throat, down to her full, incredibly soft breasts.

"I've missed those," she whispered against Miranda's skin, let her tongue circle around a small, hard nipple, sucked it, bit it gently, then turned her attention to the other, one hand in Miranda's hair, the other moving down her stomach, worming into her pants. Miranda gasped, arched her back.

"I've missed this," she replied.

"I can feel that," Jack said, coming up for air, fingers slipping into warm wetness, moving in and out torturously slow. Miranda tried to push against her fingers, but Jack pulled away with a smirk.

"Just take my trousers off already, you fucking tease!"

Jack sniggered, but complied quickly enough, threw Miranda's clothes carelessly into a corner, then trailed her wet fingers up her thighs. Caressed the soft curls, circled her clit deftly, listened to her heavy breathing, her name murmured in between low gasps.

"Jack, please..."

Jack moved over her, kissed her deeply, then she pushed her fingers hard into Miranda, thumb rubbing relentessly against her clit. Miranda's hips buckled, started moving in time with Jack's thrusts, fingers tangling in her hair, mouth bruising against Jack's. Cries muffled by Jack's mouth as she came, clenching down on Jack's fingers. Jack slowed down, but kept moving until she felt Miranda tremble and twitch again, then let go of her with a satisfied smile. Squeaked in an undignified way when Miranda pushed her onto her back all of a sudden and moved atop her, knee sliding between Jack's still frustratingly clad legs.

"Hey there."

Jack looked up into her beautifully flushed face, twinkling eyes, lips curled into a promising smile. Miranda's hair fell all around them, and Jack twined her hands in it as she pulled her down into another kiss. Miranda's palms rested on her tits, nipples hardening under the maddeningly light touch. She let go of Jack's mouth and traced her lips down her body, kissed her chest, stomach, then opened her trousers and peeled them off carefully. Jack pushed herself up on her elbows, watched Miranda tentatively stroking the scar on her left thigh.

"I know you think they turn me on, but I'd prefer if you wouldn't get more. Any more and I'll never be able to contain myself." She kissed the scar gently, then spread Jack's legs and moved her mouth up her left thigh. Jack wanted to reply something, but fell back onto the bed when Miranda let her tongue dip into her, sampled her briefly, before contenting herself with putting soft kisses to the dark curls, avoiding any place that might have given Jack relief.

"Who's the fucking tease now?" Jack growled.

"What do you want me to do?" Miranda asked with a smile, one hand splayed against Jack's thigh, the other stroking her stomach.

"Lick me. Fuck me. Anything, just... oh!"

Miranda had let a finger slip into Jack, and bent down again to flick her tongue over her clit. Jack wanted to lift her hips towards her, but Miranda held her down, looked up and shook her head disapprovingly.

"No putting pressure on the leg, remember?" she said innocently, and Jack cursed lowly, then reached out and put her hand to Miranda's head, pushed her down gently enough, but insistently. Miranda relented and kissed her swollen clit, teased it with broad strokes of her tongue, then started sucking in earnest. Added a second finger and moved in and out of her rapidly. She doubled her efforts as Jack's legs clamped around her head, profanities spilling from her lips, before she suddenly fell silent, tensed up and came, fingers tangling painfully in Miranda's hair.

"Sorry..." She smoothed Miranda's hair after a moment, patted her head gently. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Miranda moved up a little, rested her head on Jack's stomach, let her fingers trace over her tattoos.

"Come up here, Miri," Jack asked lowly after a while. Miranda disentangled herself from Jack's floppy legs and stretched out next to her. Jack leant against her, grasped her hand, closed her eyes.

"I'm a fitful sleeper. Just a heads-up."

Miranda looked down at their entwined fingers, an odd flurry in her stomach, thumb stroking in circles over the calloused skin.

"Are you tired already?" she teased gently.

"I've had a long day!" Jack protested, opened her eyes again and frowned at Miranda, who smiled back at Jack and kissed her nose, then pulled the blanket over them.

"Night-night."

Miranda watched Jack for a long time after the other woman had fallen asleep, thoughts drifting. She had no illusions that it would be easy for them to do this, but she was determined to make it work. They'd come a long way, but Jack still had her demons, and Miranda knew she'd already come close to pushing her too far, too fast. But she also knew that her being here, with Jack, meant that Jack had decided to trust her, a little at least.

Right now, it made her happier than she could remember ever being.


-The End-