Chapter Seven
Normandy SR-2 ECR, 2185, 1609h
"Wonderful. That simulation turned out better than I expected," Tali'Zorah exclaimed while she jumped up and down jovially a few times. She typed in some more commands via the holographic keyboard, which caused EDI's blue matrix interface to pop up next to her.
"The Chekhov factor's parameters will ensure a twenty-five percent fuel efficiency rate if you utilize it in this same equation, Engineer Tali'Zorah," EDI suggested. "It will also facilitate for a smaller margin of error upon Helmsman Moreau's navigational maneuvers as well."
"But I like to give the Normandy a substantial allowance; by entering the Chekhov factor into the equation, it causes more stress on our aft thrusters. Sometimes fuel efficiency has to take a lower priority, EDI."
"Why is that?"
"Well, the Normandy can fuel up just about anywhere in the galaxy. Getting spare parts for her is a bit more tricky. Since she was built somewhere in space by an autonomous human rogue agency, I can't exactly go to just any salvage shop asking for Kennedy gaskets or a reverse Serling gyroscopic azo-pod. Thankfully, the Normandy is relatively new."
"Affirmative, Engineer Tali'Zorah. My servers and software were also custom-built. Ms Lawson admits that she has the same challenge." The AI paused for a moment. "Are there any repairs that you have made to the Normandy without the proper spare parts?"
"Oh, just about all the time. Last week, when the garbage compressor lost power, it was due to a blockage. Daniels had to scale the compacter to get it out. After we restored the power, we found a leak. I went in this time and discovered that it was hydraulic fluid. Of course we had practically none left onboard, and welding the leak shut would have taken another six hours. I had another solution that involved some liquid silicon and a synthetic resin, but Donnelly and Daniels had a better idea. Although I'll admit that it immediately disgusted me, I know that humans can have their ingenious moments like we quarians. So…the garbage compressor's hydraulic chamber is currently being held together with three pieces of chewing gum. As soon as Daniels and Donnelly come back onboard with the resin, they'll get to work on it right away."
"Chewing gum? Is there an application in the quarian culture for it?"
"The idea repulsed me only after I found out what it was," Tali shook her head 'no' and leaned her hands against her console. "So, I guess that would be a no, EDI."
"Does Shepard need to know about this malfunction?"
"When my commanding officer has the ultimate fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance on top of his shoulders, I try not to be negative. It tends to ruin his day."
"Is this information that I should not store in my servers?"
"Delete it faster than one of those vids I keep catching Donnelly downloading while he's on the clock," Tali replied with a digested tone and kept shaking her head. "One woman is enough, but two…ugh..!"
"Since the Normandy's drive core computer has been restored to full functionality, would you like to restore all connections to the extranet?" EDI inquired.
"Of course! And…why would they need to be restored?"
"My operating system unfortunately requires an extranet system check before any data can be streamed to or from the Normandy, and I have detected that the extranet has not been reconnected. Commander Shepard correctly rebooted all of the Normandy's systems except this one."
"And that task would involve precisely what?"
"Restarting each wireless network router individually in a specific order, then ensure that each MAC address is correct, then reboot each haptic interface hub, next interface the REMA 5 connectors into the-"
"Hold on a minute. Just how much longer is this list?" Tali wondered.
"There are approximately twenty more components to this operation."
"Oh, Keelah, " she sighed to herself. "And I suppose all communications go through the extranet, even the suit radios?"
"Negative, Engineer Tali'Zorah, the radio communications go through another wavelength. However, to get the transmitter working, there is a twelve step process that must be initiated by-"
"I get it," she responded impatiently with a sigh and ran a hand across her upper chest.
"Your vital signs are registering a spike in blood pressure and your glands are producing an extraneous amount of perspiration, Engineer Tali'Zorah. The temperature in the ECR is twenty-three degrees Celsius. Would you like me to execute a musical playlist to reduce your stress level?"
The quarian cursed in her own language underneath her breath. "I wish that I'd purchased that prototype air conditioning filter back when we were on Illium. Now…where was I… should I be starting this in the AI core, or does it matter which wireless router is turned on first?"
"You are correct, Engineer Tali'Zorah. I have two lists from which you can choose the music, although one is has slightly faster tempos and likely to increase stress because of the aeolian scales that run through it. Do you prefer acoustic musical instruments, voice, or electronic instruments?"
"Does it matter?" Tali glanced upward as she made her way towards the elevator.
"The first list includes mostly electronic instruments with only a 15%-"
"Play the other one, then." The AI wasted no further time and let the first track roll throughout the ship's PA system. A human male's sweet tone sent her skin into goosebumps as he poured forth compliments and words of love. "Got anything less depressing?" she sighed as she entered the AI core.
"I am perplexed, Engineer Tali'Zorah. Why do you find songs about love depressing?"
The quarian sighed. "Normally, I don't. It's just that…it's coming from a male human, and...I'd rather not discuss it any further, EDI."
"Understood. Very well, I will play the next one."
The next track blared forth a full chorale of bagpipes.
"Do humans find this relaxing?" the quarian winced.
"Music is meant to be relaxing to organic beings, I believe."
"Yeah, well, it isn't working, at least with this song." Tali opened one of the server's modules to her left. "And I think silence is my best option for now, EDI, unless I make a connection error." The music immediately stopped as she disconnected some cables from the unit.
The Upper Wards, Chímaira, 2185, 1846h
The only words that Shepard could think of at the present moment to describe the opulent hotel suite that Miranda procured for them were extremely simple: "overdrawn bank account". Shepard's eyes roamed around the cathedral ceiling, burgundy curtains that were no doubt made of the finest hand-woven asari silk, and lavender sofas with golden seams that were designed to emulate the human baroque period.
A salarian valet carefully but quickly slid Shepard's valise into the corner of the suite's foyer. He turned to Shepard. "Any other wishes to subsidize your stay, sir?"
The interior designer who worked on this layout probably made more during a day than he did in an entire week, but there was absolutely no questioning this person's talent. He or she certainly did earn it, right down to the last decimal place.
Years ago when Shepard visited Vancouver on Earth to receive an award for his actions during the Skyllian Blitz and his promotion, he took some time to visit the city as a tourist. He went for a walk one day to ponder the general direction of his life as well as a unique offer that a Cerberus recruiting agent gave him. The metropolis had many visually pleasing gardens, parks, skyscrapers, and stunning fountains. It was at one of these fountains in particular, at Queen Elizabeth Park, where he stopped to inspect a dazzling assortment of fish. The array of vivid colors slowed down his anxious pulse as the sunlight reflected from their diversely bright bodies. No two of them were perfectly alike.
Some footsteps behind him on the sidewalk distracted his eyes from the aquatic life; a batarian and an asari wandered up the path arm in arm to also marvel the display. He immediately became suspicious when he noticed them; there was no such thing as a friendly batarian. Neither alien spoke loudly, which caused Shepard a minute amount of alarm. Up until this point, when he heard a batarian's volume decrease, he knew that trouble would not be far behind. To mask his instincts, he folded his hands behind his back and curled one fist into his palm. Much to his surprise, the couple remained civil. The batarian even whispered a few sentences into the asari's "ear", and she even rewarded her bond mate with a kiss on his cheek. I don't know what ideals these people stands for, but I know what mine are. That very moment made Shepard dig into his pocket and tear up the card that he was given.
Shepard's mind traveled back to the present and let his mouth fell partly agape with awe. He certainly valued aesthetics and had an appreciative eye for resplendent architecture, but there was no way that he would have been able to afford this. His parents hammered the concept of earning a hard-earned credit into his young impressionable mind from a very early age as opposed to spending one.
The salarian's curt voice interrupted Shepard's visual tour. "Excuse me…Commander Shepard?"
"I think I might be in the wrong room here."
"No, sir. There is no mistake."
Shepard set his teeth.
I'm gonna have to start liquidating some assets soon. It'll be worth it, though. There are few things that actually bring her some comfort in the difficult life she's had. Luxury is one of them…my presence…is another…I hope.
His introspection came to a dead stop when he noticed the salarian's hands begin to fidget restlessly. "Uh, yeah, actually…would you mind getting some kind of bottle of-"
The alien signaled the ex-Alliance soldier's attention to the open balcony. A bucket that barely was sweating with condensation sat in a stand filled with some sort of alcoholic beverage, but Shepard couldn't identify it. "Oh, well, never mind." He rubbed the back of his neck. He also swore that he could also smell a pleasant fragrance in the air; could it have been one of those of bath oils?
"Properly sized wine glasses are in the fridge chilling for the Riesling." The valet next pointed his thumb to his left. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
Shepard stopped his previous actions, fished out a chit from his pocket, and started to hand it to the salarian until he shook his head 'no'. "Not necessary, sir."
"But aren't I supposed to tip you for-"
"Consider the account imputed."
That's a relief to know that I won't be going broke…at least for the rest of this month. The damage to the Dark Star came to a grand total of 75 thousand credits…I should have known better than to trust Jacob's judgment about numbers.
"Oh, uh, well…thank you. Do you know who uh…footed the bill, so to speak?"
The salarian snapped his fingers and activated his omni-tool. "If you'd like, sir, I can forward this message to the business center. The sender cannot be identified with a valid email address, but hopefully, this will give you a clue."
"Um, sure. Where is this "business center?" Is it downstairs in the lobby?"
"Roughly fifty meters from where you stand, sir. It's fully equipped to suit your every need." He motioned his thumb to the right. "Now if there's nothing else, sir, good day to you." The salarian made a hasty exit.
Shepard was torn with indecision. He was really curious about his benefactor but had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew the person's identity. On the other hand, the enticing scent that sweetly assaulted his nostrils before came back this time to gently beckon him down the hallway and investigate it. A third problem was that his stomach now greatly bothered him; he had eaten a very small lunch. Replenishing that energy would be extremely pragmatic. Maybe the refrigerator would have some food in it.
He shuffled over to the kitchen and found nothing but the wine glasses as he opened the door to it. Disappointment ripped through his digestive organ. Damn. A roast beef submarine sandwich with horseradish and cheddar cheese would have really hit the spot. One thing at a time, I guess.
Completely forgetting about the open refrigerator door, Shepard's unfocused mind leapt to the next question he had. He decided to fire a shot in the dark and called out to her in a loud voice, "Miranda, are you busy, or can you come out here for a minute?"
He was answered with silence. Five seconds later, he inquired if she heard him. A synthetic female voice warned him about the ajar door, and Shepard stepped backwards briefly to obey it as he began to sort out his thoughts. He again called her name but received no response.
All right. She's got to be in that bathroom. I won't have one more second of peace if I don't feed my brain or the empty pit that is bellowing angrily at me.
Shepard followed the flowery trail through the living room and smiled when he noticed that there was steam escaping from the jacuzzi instead of the bathroom. The fragrance now directly and obtrusively invaded his nasal cavity. She did this on purpose…damn it, you conniving…-
"I ordered some room service just a few minutes ago for the both of us," her light Aussie accent announced. "Thought you might be hungry."
That's a mild understatement. I'm about ready to gnaw off one of my own damned legs, he impatiently thought. "Why didn't you answer me before?"
"I didn't hear you, Shepard. The jets are relatively loud in here."
That'd better not be a lie. "Forget about it." He shook his head. "What did you order?"
"Well, if I remember this correctly, I was told by a certain commander to be impulsive..."
Shepard's forehead wrinkled. "About food?" He slid the door across its track after taking a few cautionary steps inside. "When did I say that?"
A sea of foamy rose bubbles completely surrounded her body sans her head and neck. Miranda flashed him a closed mouth smile but raised only one side of her mouth.
I knew it-she's got something up her…-
She interrupted his internal monologue by removing both of her arms from the water and lifting herself onto a higher step in the jacuzzi. Miranda exposed her alabaster shoulders; neither had a stitch of clothing covering them, and he felt his blood pressure make a sharp incline. "Don't worry, Shepard, it'll be something quite edible. Now, the Riesling wine that valet brought has probably reached a good temperature by now. Bring it in with you when you come back here, would you?"
Shepard's eyes narrowed petulantly, and he crossed his arms. "Don't you dare order me around."
The seductive tone she had been using disappeared immediately as did her smirk. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in shock. About three seconds later, she found her voice and resumed her previous cool mask. "Someone's mood has certainly taken a dive."
She made a move to arise, but he held up his hand and kicked off his shoes. "We'll drink it later." Shepard's bellicose expression disappeared but stayed somber. "Forgive my snippy comment…it was very uncalled for. I'm not angry with you in the least. Admiral Hackett sent me a message this afternoon. It was about what happened on Aratoht."
"Shepard, if you don't mind my asking…-" Miranda's eyes shifted to the floor. "I'd like to know what went on down there. I know you couldn't talk about the transmission when you were…when we still belonged to Cerberus, but I knew something was wrong when you got back." She softly bit down on her bottom lip as she put her thoughts together. "All that you told me was that you had to do a favor for him."
Shepard continued to disrobe until he was down to his boxers. He hooked his thumb underneath the waistband on one side of them and exposed some of his flesh to show her a scar. Miranda's vision was absolutely perfect, but she motioned her fingers towards him to come closer so that she could inspect it. This time, he did as she silently asked, and she examined the stitching job that Dr. Chakwas had done. "How deep was the knife?"
"Probably about ten centimeters. I charged into one of the batarian guards and didn't notice that he had a knife until it sliced through my barriers as well as my armor," he explained.
"It's healing nicely." She traced the wound lightly with her index finger. He squirmed and seized the back of her hand roughly. A tiny gasp escaped her lips with his action, and it wasn't until he began to caress each finger tenderly that she exhaled again.
Approximately ten seconds later, Shepard released her, shoved his boxers off, and climbed into the jacuzzi. "You know, this goes against every masculine fiber in my body…"
"I should know. I rebuilt all of them," Miranda remarked with a laugh.
Yet you still followed her into the tub with the pink bubbles, moron.
He briefly joined her mirth until he remembered that he was supposed to be recollecting his mission. "So, where were we? Uh…well after Hawthorne dropped me off in the LZ, I made my way into one of those bunkers." And doing that didn't bring back any warm fuzzy feelings from the '78 op, either.
"After doing some house cleaning, I got to Dr. Kenson, released her, and we fought our way out of that hell hole." Shepard paused to clear his throat. "She told me why the batarians nabbed her; it was because she found evidence that the Reapers were going to be arriving soon…much sooner than I had thought. Then she planned to ram an asteroid into the Alpha relay to stop them."
I wonder what other options the Alliance considered…if any, Miranda thought. She pushed the topic aside; what mattered now were the serious consequences for humanity if any of the other alien spaces were to learn the truth about this. "So Hackett sent you in to circumvent the political backlash that he would have received for deploying a special unit there?"
Shepard shrugged and moved closer to her. "That's one interpretation, but I doubt his intention was to make me into the Alliance's scapegoat. He's gonna feel a lot more heat from everybody now, including the Prime Minister and the rest of the Parliament."
That's nothing compared to the weight of the criminal charges that the Alliance will try to heap on you. It's just too damned convenient for him.
Miranda continued her query. "Did your admiral tell you how he came to know this Dr. Kenson?"
"No, neither of them stated how they came to know one another." He slid an arm around her shoulders to draw her closer to himself, and she nestled her cheek on one of them. It's also really none of my business.
"Kenson told me about a Reaper artifact that she came across with a research team several months ago while we were traveling out of Aratoht's orbit. I told her my concerns about indoctrination, and she assured me that the artifact was being carefully handled. I know Reaper tech is usually built to last for eons, but something didn't seem right about the whole ordeal. Going to Arcturus Station without a scrap of proof of this would have been a crazy idea. The Council wouldn't believe me about the Reapers for the past two and a half years because I couldn't give them anything besides my testimony, but…I…I hoped that if I could record something with my omni-tool or…-"
Miranda extracted herself from his embrace and nudged his legs gently apart so that she could sit in between them. "Please go on, Shepard."
"What's wrong?"
"My neck started to get a bloody crick."
"Oh, well, allow me to fix that for ya." His hands came up from the water and squeezed her muscles affectionately in a circular motion. She hummed in pleasure and leaned forward. Seconds later, she decided to plant her posterior firmly against his nether regions and gradually shift her weight from side to side. Shepard growled contentedly as he felt himself harden. "Can I insert a disclaimer here should you decide to escalate things even more, Miss Lawson?"
"Did you think that I was going to sit back and let you have all the fun by yourself, Commander?"
"Hell, no, I know better than to argue with you about that," he replied with a brief chuckle.
"Good. Mmm…could you shift to your left, please? Yes, that's the spot right…ah..."
"So I went with Kenson to the asteroid. After she took me inside to take a look at the artifact, reality slapped me in the face like a bad hangover. The damned artifact hadn't been shielded at all, and her entire staff indoctrinated. It hit me with a very powerful blast and showed me what…it showed me what would happen to Earth." He clenched his teeth when he thought of the devastation that was on the way for the galaxy. The Hegemony is probably going to start firing at anything that comes even remotely close to one of their systems. They might even directly order their ships into our orbits. Who's to say that they won't make some sort of asteroid bomb and attempt the same thing to the Sol relay in retaliation?
When the Reapers come, families are going to be torn away from one another. Communication in between relatives who were spread out across the countries will be cut off. Looting is gonna go rampant and people are gonna turn on one another in the street like wild animals. And I won't be able to stop it. Not one damn thing.
She suddenly halted her seductive movements. "Shepard? Are you here with me?"
Shepard cleared his throat and continued his narrative. "Yeah, I am, Miranda. I fought off as many of 'em as I could, but they overwhelmed me eventually. Two days later, I woke up; they must have loaded me up with a ton of sedatives."
"That number is a bit of an exaggeration…but it's not far from your tolerance levels." She sighed as his fingers left her neck, and he wrapped his arms about her waist. "Did you…I asked EDI to contact you several times…-"
"So you were worried about me."
Her tone became slightly defensive but not acerbic. "It's hardly an illogical thought, Shepard."
One of Shepard's hands loosened from her waist and traveled downward to lightly brush against her hip. He danced his fingers delicately over the flesh there and was about to explore the inner part of her thigh until a very loud banging came to the suite's outer door. Son of a bitch. If that isn't someone bringing food at the door, then…
Miranda arose without a complaint from his embrace, exited the jacuzzi, and slid her arms through a scarlet translucent robe. She gave him a very quick wink before she left the room.
Shepard glanced around himself at the steamy chamber as the pressure from the jets soothingly beat against his back like the cadence of a drum line and sighed happily. The recessed luminaries' color temperature in the ceiling perfectly matched the room's neutral colors, and two pairs of cream Egyptian cotton towels filled a silver pewter rack on the floor. I wonder whom Liara squeezed to get such a gorgeous place like this…if indeed it was her doing. Who the hell else would be able to…-
"Shepard…" Miranda's voice practically sang to him from the doorway. She smiled as she took in the serene picture and let her eyes wander along his perfect Greek anatomy. When he didn't answer her, she used a louder voice. "Hey, Shepard…-"
His chestnut eyes snapped towards hers as he broke himself out of his reverie, and made a childish grin. "Sorry about that…" He got up from the jacuzzi, toweled himself off quickly, and put his boxers back on.
"Hmm…was it a lovely daydream?" Miranda interlaced her fingers with his, and they walked side by side toward the living room.
"Damn straight…you were in it."
"Was I wearing clothes?"
"With or without them, I saw a vision of loveliness in front of me. Why would anything else matter?" He lifted his fingers into the air with a flamboyant gesture.
She chortled out loud for a few precious seconds. "You sentimental ass, couldn't you just answer the question?"
He shrugged and gave her another impish smile; she led the both of them to the balcony with a completely set table. "So, what've we got for some chow?"
Miranda removed both covers from the serving platters. "Roasted Cornish hens with asparagus and Hollandaise sauce," she replied with pride.
He scooted back one of the chairs, waited until she sat down, and pushed it forward until she settled herself. "Thank you, Shepard. You're off the hook…for now."
Shepard peered suspiciously at the poultry as he joined her at the table. "Why're these so small? Is this some sort of Asari recipe?"
"Not that I've been informed." She removed the napkin ring and was about to place it into her lap until she remembered that there was something missing from their meal. "Nearly forgot the wine."
Shepard was about to spring up, but she stopped him with a gentle squeeze on his wrist. "I'll be right back, Shepard. Go ahead, I know you're starving," she told him and left the balcony.
As they ate, Shepard recapitulated the rest of the mission, and she silently listened to his narrative. Fifteen minutes later, he refilled their wine glasses. "So the current savior of the galaxy is not only the "Butcher of Torfan" but also the "Assassin of Aratoht". Hard to see if there's a way to balance out all the death I've caused." He shamefully sank his forehead into his right hand and leaned it on the arm of the chair. "Three hundred thousand people…I'm a war criminal now…-"
"Would we be here now together like this if you hadn't made the right choice?" Miranda prodded him.
"Of course not, but I didn't do it for-" he interrupted himself. Yeah, who are you kidding…why lie about this to her? She is your priority. Admit it, you stupid bastard! You also saw her battered and hematic body in the vision Harbinger showed you.
Shepard took a drink from his glass and let the alcohol calm his nerves. "I-I care very much for you, Miranda…-I just wish that there could have been another way."
"I know. It couldn't have been easy." She nodded, finished her last bite of the meal, and gently set down the silverware on the plate. Miranda turned her gaze to the Presidium's artificial lighting that tried to simulate dusk. It didn't come close to one of St. Kilda's charming sunsets. "What happens now?"
"Hackett will be paying a visit to the Normandy tomorrow."
Her eyes returned to meet his. "Will he clap the irons on right there and take you straight to Earth for a court-martial?"
"I…I don't know." Shepard's eyes fell away, and the fork slipped out of his hand with a loud rattle on the plate. "I need…I need to know you're thinking. Please say something."
She dabbed at her mouth with the napkin and let it fall on the table.
"My opinion of those fools hasn't changed in the slightest. You did the right thing, Shepard, and it's preposterous that you should have to suffer at the Alliance's hands for it." Miranda stood and walked over to his chair. She leaned forward towards his lips, and he took her by surprise. He practically leapt out of his chair, seized her by the waist, and met her passion halfway. A short exhale burst from her nostrils, and she parted her lips to welcome his. Approximately one second later, one hand of hers began to cup his jaw, and the other wrapped itself around the back of his neck.
I've never felt such a rush like this with any other woman in the galaxy. God has truly blessed me.
A pleasant but brief rumble in Shepard's throat escaped it as he increased his mouth's ferocious demand upon her lips. What had begun as a steady but gentle pace of coaxing and tugging turned into a frenzied battle for dominance. He broke away from her merely to gasp a few breaths, and she pulled him back merely a few moments later. His hands slid down to her hips while her lips enveloped quite a healthy portion of his lower lip. Moments later, his fingertips sailed across her derriere, and the action caused her to pry herself away from him to inhale very erratically at their electric touch. She returned to his mouth with a guttural moan and gave the upper portion a playful few nips with her teeth as well as her tongue.
An anxious thought suddenly occurred to him. What if I never see her again? Ever?
Shepard ceased all ministrations and forced himself to let go of her completely. He stepped back a few feet and trudged back inside of the hotel suite. This isn't right. I can't just spend an evening of incredible passion with her and just leave her alone in the morning…I need her too much. And she needs to know that.
He leaned his elbows and bodyweight against the granite island countertop in the kitchen. Miranda studied his blank face for a moment as she tried to gauge his thoughts and followed him tout de suite. She stroked his left forearm a few times and placed her right hand on the back of his palm. The fabric of her garments gingerly glided across his skin. Shepard lazily flipped his hand over and started to rub his fingers across hers. "Want me to bring your belongings to you tomorrow morning before we go?" he finally asked and broke the silence.
"Thank you, Shepard, but no. I already cleaned everything out this afternoon."
His father's demoralizing voice ran his head. Way to go, Ace. Think you're gonna leave her breathless with that?
He bit down onto one of his knuckles and sighed angrily. "Miranda, I…-aw crimony…why does everything have to be so complicated? Can't you just stay with me until the-"
"The Alliance would lock me up faster than you can say the word "terrorist" or just shoot me without hesitation, Shepard, you know that." Her voice went to a whisper. "You know I'd rather be with you no matter what, but…-"
His fingers increased their pace. "Well, what if I were able to convince the Brass to give you some slack for giving up some dirt on-"
"Don't you think that Hackett will be more than a bit upset with you for what happened? You didn't pull the trigger on Kenson yourself, but he might be inclined to show some malice. I can't specifically say who she was to him, but I do know a bit about who he is."
He removed his hand from hers and made eye contact with her. "What do you mean, Miranda?"
"While I infiltrated some Alliance bases years ago, I came across some personnel files. The Brass had been considering Hackett for command of the 5th Fleet for three years before he finally accepted their offer."
"What made him take so long to do so?"
"He was trying to reconcile some rather tempestuous matters with his wife, who was in the process of divorcing him. She was an electrical engineer, and oddly enough, she never served with him. This Dr. Kenson, however, did."
Shepard straightened himself and folded his arms across his chest. "So they probably had a fling and the wife caught onto them."
Miranda nodded and leaned her elbow as well as her bodyweight against the countertop. "It's highly likely. So your admiral did not want to go live on the Citadel but rather try to work things out with his other half."
"Was reconciling things with his wife such a bad idea?"
"Well, as it turned out, she refused him in the end. I'm sure that caused a very large bruise to his ego, so he had her fired from the Alliance and blacklisted."
He shook his head incredulously. "He did what?"
She shrugged. "He had her fired from the Alliance and blacklisted. Fortunately, her story didn't have an unhappy end. She's currently working for Cerberus."
Shepard smiled and lifted his finger in the air slightly. "Ah, there's the real connection. The details of the divorce wouldn't have been in those files. Did you hire her yourself?"
"No, but the point is, Shepard, Hackett could be spiteful. Perhaps he won't show an immediate reaction after hearing your testimony, but this accident could be something that he would not forget about. Just watch yourself when he comes to interrogate you tomorrow. I wouldn't reveal any more details than you wrote in your report."
"I won't. Trust me."
Miranda reached out to grasp his bicep gingerly and squeeze it as she came closer to his body. Her touch fell into a rhythmic pattern. "Shepard. One of the things I appreciate about you is your passion, but you can be a little overprotective of your ego sometimes."
"It won't get the better of me, I promise you. He'll be a useful ally throughout this whole process…as will Anderson."
She nodded and gave him a fleeting smile. "Thank you." Her fingertips danced over his arm. "I don't suppose there's anything I could say or do to change your mind from throwing yourself to the wolves."
He shook his head 'no'. "It's the right thing. Running away would look worse. I'm not innocent of the blood that was spilled."
"Better a few hundred thousand than several billion lives, Shepard." Miranda's eyes left his, reclaimed her hand, and moistened her lips as she glanced away. Her usual stoic manner melted away into a melancholic expression. "Damn it, just when I've found someone who…who makes me feel…alive…"
Shepard grabbed her hand back and ran his hands against her palm in between his own. "Did you say something about passion, Miss Lawson?"
"Perhaps. And…for tonight, please feel free to…release it how you see fit." Her other hand suddenly dropped down to his abdomen to tickle her fingers just above his boxers. Miranda's head tilted downward to glance at him. She closed her eyes and leaned her head backward slightly. "Or did I speak out of turn, Commander?"
He lunged for her neck and sank his teeth directly into it.
"Hmm…I had a feeling that it would appear sometime tonight," she remarked coolly. Her hands left his waist, and her arms instantly clung to his shoulders. Despite her frosty comment, Miranda's body temperature skyrocketed. When Shepard felt this, he dragged his moist mouth languidly all over her skin and returned his hands back to her hips.
I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do without her, but tonight…well…she won't forget it, that's for sure.
He separated himself from her just to gaze into her eyes. She gave him a very subtle nod in return, and he lifted her up from the floor. Her legs enveloped his torso for support as he carried her back towards the master bedroom.
**Author's Notes: Despite the frigid temperatures going on around the U.S., perhaps this will give those who are suffering from it a bit of warmth. The concept of Kenson and Hackett knowing one another as more than friends is more than plausible but not necessarily canon. Someone asked for a scene like this a while ago, and honoring this person's request is the least I could do to bring in 2014.**
