Warning: Torture described, violence and gore. Read with caution.

Grunting out in pain, she slowly opened her eyes only to be met by the darkness that surrounded her. She didn't know how long she'd been trapped here, but she guessed that days had passed since she last saw the sunlight. She looked around, hoping to see at least a small ray of light somewhere, a small glimmer of hope, but wherever she looked there was only darkness.

To make it worse, no sound accompanied her in the consuming darkness; the only sound she could hear was of her ragged breaths and her heartbeat. She closed her eyes because she felt more comfortable that way before she willed her mind to think about more pleasant things.

She thought about Oriana and the information she gathered during these days; Dr Silas always gave away new details about her father's whereabouts, enough so that she could put the pieces together. The only thing she still had to find out was her father's exact location, and she hoped that Silas was stupid enough to reveal her the last secret that kept her away from her sister.

Her thoughts then wandered to James; she wondered where he was and if he was worried. Yes, her mind supplied, of course he's worried. James did seem the type. He cared, perhaps more than she even knew, and he was probably worried sick over her disappearance. It shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did. After all, Miranda was only doing what she had to in order to find her sister; but the knowledge that James was out there, worrying after her, somehow it made her feel a bit selfish for choosing this route for information.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought. This was the furthest thing from selfish she had ever done. Miranda was doing this for Oriana. For her sister she would fight through all seven circles of hell and back, without a second thought. James would understand that, and if he didn't then maybe her feelings for him were misplaced. Feelings? Miranda made a soft displeased sound, taking back the thought before it could manifest completely. She didn't have feelings toward James. She couldn't... could she?

When the door swung open, allowing a blinding light to crowd into the room, Miranda was almost relieved that her interrogators had decided to reschedule her interrogation. Maybe a little torture would take her mind off of Lieutenant Vega and his illustrious smirk.

One of Dr. Silas' thugs strode into the room and grabbed Miranda by the old fashioned shackles secured around her wrists. Pulling her up onto her feet, Miranda made a show of her struggle to hold up her own weight. Her interrogators had been rather stingy with her rations of food and water, hoping to make her too weak to resist them; but she'd been waterboarded enough times to not worry about dehydration. The weaker they thought she was, the more information they unwittingly let slip about her father.

She allowed the man to drag her down a long hall and around a corner until they reached the room at the end of the hall. Miranda had made this walk enough times to have every detail committed to memory. This was a small facility, maybe ranging around two thousand square feet. There were a few other doors in the hall where her cell was located; and she knew that she was the only prisoner here. One of these doors was the exit, and she was willing to bet that it was the one on the opposite end of the hall of her interrogation room.

"Come on, Princess," the burly man growled as he tugged on Miranda's cuffs. He threw the door open and shoved her onto the dirty floor.

Miranda whimpered softly, masking her irritation as fear. When she finally had all the information she needed, he was going to be the first one to face her fury. Another man strode up to her and peeled her off of the ground. Holding onto her cuffs, he pulled her hands over her head and secured her shackles to the long chain dangling from the piping overhead.

She glanced up as he adjusted the chain until she was dangling helplessly, suspended about a foot above the ground. There was a leak in those pipes. A leak that worsened with every interrogation that they chose to hang her from them. The pipes were old, rusted, with the right amount of pressure they would burst.

"Where's your fight, Miss Lawson?" the sound of Dr. Silas' voice pulled her from her thoughts. She tore her gaze from the poorly maintained piping and met the good doctor's arrogant eyes. Leave it to a scientist to know exactly how to hurt a person. The man probably regarded her as a test subject; something less than human that could be poked and prodded until he achieved his desired results. Miranda had something special planned for him.

"Please," stop talking, she wanted to say. Instead she allowed a desperate whine to sneak into her voice. "I can't take this any more."

A friendly smile twisted the corners of the man's mouth. "You can end this, Miranda," his tone was soothing, compliant, as though he had only her best interests at heart. Silas reached out to her and combed her dirty hair away from her face. "Just tell me what I want to know."

Miranda resisted the urge to spit in his face as he trailed his disgusting fingers down the line of her jaw until he had her chin in his hand. Without ripping her face from his grasp, she cried, "I already told you everything. Please."

Tsking at her defeated behavior, he replied, "Do you take me for a fool, Miss Lawson?" He turned on his heel and waved for one of the brutes in the corner to come do his worst. As the man slapped the rubber hose across his palm, the doctor continued speaking over the other man's threatening display. "You've told me nothing but bullshit and half truths."

Dr. Silas leaned his weight against the workstation at the end of the room. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he wondered, "Do you know what a half truth is, Miss Lawson?" When the only sound was of her chains ringing as she swung, and the rubber hose slapping against the thug's open hand, the Doctor supplied, "It's a lie. And I don't take kindly to liars."

As if on cue the doctor's brute started to whip the rubber hose across Miranda's torso. Without disguising her pain, Miranda cried out as the hose blundered her flesh, threatening to break her sore ribs and slice open her skin. She couldn't fake this kind of pain if she wanted to, and they needed to see her like this. They needed to see her broken, hurt; a defenseless animal with nowhere to hide.

She buried her face in her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, hiding from the pain in a way no amount of training would ever be able to adapt her to. The pain was real, the tears streaming down her cheeks were real, the feeling of her ribs cracking like glass was very real; what wasn't real was her vocal desperation for it all to stop. Yes, Miranda wanted it to end, but they hadn't pushed her over the edge yet. If they kept it up though... she honestly didn't know how much more she could take.

Pulled from the desk by his curiosity, Dr. Silas approached her, his head tilted to the side as he inspected her. Always the scientist, he was observing her reaction, gauging her resistance; the only thing missing was a notepad. "Enough," he said to his brute and the man thrashed Miranda with the hose one last time before he desisted his attack.

"You know how to end this, Miss Lawson." He held his wrist behind his back, the friendly smile continued to pull his lips as though they were sharing sunday brunch. "Just tell me what I want to know."

Her exhales were heavy as she hung there, like meat in a butcher's freezer. Wearily looking up past her brow to meet the doctor's gaze, she whispered, "Fine."

Dr. Silas raised a hand to his ear. "What was that?"

"Fine!" She barked before letting her head hang in defeat, fresh tears falling from her lashes as her breaths heaved out of her painfully. "I'll tell you just, please, no more."

His smile turned satisfied. "My, my, my; Miss Lawson finally broke." The pompous mien about him intensified ten fold. "Tell me everything that I want to know and I promise to end your suffering." When Miranda didn't reply or react he asked, "What do you know about your father's studies?"

"Nothing," Miranda flinched as Silas raised his hand to backhand her. Before he could slam his knuckles into her cheek she inserted. "Only that he's partnered with the Illusive man, that he has my sister, and what you told me about him studying Reaper technology. That's all I know; I swear."

The doctor returned his hand to his side and was silent for a moment as he measured the honesty of her tone. After a beat he asked, "Who have you told?"

"No one," Silas poised to strike and she shouted, "Commander Shepard. I only told the Commander."

He set his jaw, displeased. "Your father has plans on the horizon, Miranda; and he would prefer for you not to interfere."

Without replying, Miranda held her head against her arm and tried to concentrate on breathing. Her ribs were screaming in agony and there was nothing she could do. If it wasn't her every breath causing her pain, it was the stretched position of hanging from her arms.

Before he could either hit her or ask another question, his omni-tool started to chime. The doctor glanced down and sighed through his nose. Looking back at the thug standing by the door he said, "I have to take this." Silas strode toward the door and gestured for the other man to follow. "Come now. She's not going anywhere."

The door shut loudly behind him but Miranda could still hear the call from just outside the interrogation room. The familiar sound of another Cerberus Operative's voice sent an arctic chill down her spine.

"What have you learned?" that was definitely Kai Leng's voice.

Shit, Miranda glanced back up at the piping overhead as she continued to listen to their conversation.

"Not much," Dr. Silas replied. "She's put up a good fight up until now. I'm starting to think that she really doesn't know anything."

"Cerberus has given the Lawsons enough sanctuary." Kai Leng's voice dripped with venom. "Get rid of her, Silas."

Miranda lifted her head. Horizon, sanctuary? Realization struck her like a rubber hose. Without needing to hear another word, Miranda started to move. Adjusting her hands until she had the chain in her grasp, she pulled herself up and let her weight fall back down. The piping creaked. A relieved smile inched across her lips before she banished it from her face completely. She wasn't out of the woods yet; she hadn't even gotten to the hard part.

Using her last reserves of strength, she kicked her legs up until she was suspended upside down, the chain firmly clutched in her grasp as she took a steadying breath. Steeling her resolve, Miranda released the chain from between her feet the same time she kicked her legs out in a windmill motion, twisting the chain around her torso in a way that painfully compressed her cracked ribs.

Miranda ignored the pain. Without stopping, she twisted her body again and again, wrapping the chain snuggly around her torso as she rolled up it's length. After several more windmill kicks, she found herself only feet away from the rusted piping on the ceiling. She glanced down, measuring the distance and regretting the pain to come.

She sucked in another breath before shutting her eyes and letting go of the chain. Miranda fell, gravity reclaiming her with selfish inclination. She spun back down at a neck breaking rate, the chain rattling as it uncoiled from around her until it finally came undone.

The force of her fall was enough to cause the poorly maintained piping to break. Her chain came loose and Miranda fell to the ground in a heap. Water burst from the pipes, gallon after gallon raining down on her and flooding the room. Miranda had only a second to catch her breath.

Picking herself up off the floor, Miranda moved to stand beside the door, breathing heavily as she waited for one of Silas' men to come bursting through. She only had to wait a second. The moment that the man kicked the door open, Miranda wrapped the chain around his neck and pulled. He was too surprised to fight her and she took advantage of that second to throw him face first against the wall. The man fell to his knees and she pushed against his back to suffocate him even faster.

When he slumped forward lifelessly, she unwrapped the chain from around his neck and let it fall to the ground beside her. Miranda shut the door, locking it to buy herself a few more seconds. She searched the body for a key and made a pleased sound when she found one in his pocket. Uncuffing herself, she grimaced at the unsightly bruises on her wrists, the mangled flesh where the metal had dug into her skin.

Moving towards the desk, Miranda ripped open each drawer until she found one with a case of medi-gel. She just needed something for the pain; she'd deal with her injuries later. Pulling free a vial, she grabbed a syringe and measured her dosage; ignoring the rattling door as Silas and his men tried to regain access to the room. Miranda stabbed the syringe into her leg and pressed the medi-gel directly into her system. Tilting her head back she let out a breath of relief as the incapacitating pain of her cracked ribs ebbed down to a tolerable ache.

She blinked her eyes back to focus when the door was nearly knocked off its hinges. Turning back around, Miranda rifled through the desk again. She pulled open the center drawer, a silver set of gleaming knives reflected the flickering lights overhead as she pulled them out into the open. Miranda grabbed two of the knives and sloshed through the rising water level.

Reclaiming her previous place by the door, she leaned back against the wall and caught her breath as she waited for Silas' men to finally break it down. The door rattled once, twice, and was thrown off its hinges on the third kick. A man stomped into the room, his breath heaving with ire as he walked into the chaos of a flooding room.

Miranda took advantage the second he was distracted by the gushing pipeline, and stepped up beside him. The moment the man realized she was there was a moment too late. She stabbed one of her knives into the side of his neck, and dragged her blade forward as she ducked behind the man's large frame to avoid getting shot by the second man entering the room.

Her already filthy clothes were getting splattered by blood as her human shield bled out in front of her. When his eyes were completely dimmed of life, Miranda held him up long enough to summon as much as her biotics as possible. She let the man collapse, his heavy body splashing the flooding floors as Miranda rolled out of the way. The fired shot barely missed her as she landed into a crouch and threw the gunman against the wall with her biotics.

The thug hit his head hard against the wall and fell forward, stunned and disoriented by her attack. Miranda was on him in a second, reacting before he had time to collect himself. Roaring loudly she stabbed her knife under his jaw and left it there as he died. She collected his weapon and turned for the exit. Two more thugs were rushing in her direction and Miranda lifted the gun and shot both of them between the eyes before they realized what happened.

She pressed herself against the wall as she neared the corner. Miranda knew that Silas had only two men left at his disposal; the hard part was almost over. When she heard the sound of running footfalls heading her direction she kneeled down on the floor, her back still against the wall. As the sound came closer and closer, Miranda waited until her pursuers were almost on top of her before rounding the corner and shooting one in the gut while stabbing the other with her remaining blade.

When the first man was thrown to the ground by the impact of the point blank rage shot to the stomach, Miranda stood from her kneeled position; dragging the knife up the second man's stomach as she stood. She held the man's shocked gaze as he choked on his surprise. The wet heat of his spilling blood soaked her hand, and Miranda watched as his life faded from his eyes. When she ripped the knife out from his sliced open torso, his innards came spilling out.

Her gaze was pulled over her victim's shoulder, Dr. Silas' eyes were widened with horror as he watched her kill the last of his attack dogs. A smirk twisted the corner of Miranda's mouth as he backed himself into a wall. Stepping over the dead bodies, Miranda approached the good doctor slowly, relishing in the sight of him petrified into place. There was no where for him to run, no where for him to hide. Her smirk grew. Dr Silas was hers for the taking.

"This is madness," he gasped as she neared him. "Stop this; you don't have to do this."

Miranda only stopped when she was standing directly in front of the doctor. She tilted her head as she watched terrified tremors rack his body wave after wave. What a sudden change in his demeanor; just minutes ago he had enough arrogance to leave her alone unsupervised in a room filled with torture devices, he even permitted his men to strut around without a shred of armor. How he must've been regretting his carelessness as he pleaded with her.

"Please," he said, only to be cut off as Miranda's hand lashed out, quick as a viper's strike, and wrapped tightly around his neck. Dr Silas coughed in surprise, gasping for breath as she squeezed her fingers around his throat.

"You've been the most accommodating host, Silas," her tone was low, deadly. If he didn't have information that she desperately needed, she wouldn't have bothered wasting time by questioning him; but since he had information, they were going to play for just a little bit longer. "I'd like to show you my appreciation."

Without waiting for his cries for mercy, Miranda pulled him off of the wall and shoved him into another. Before he could bolt, she secured him by the collar and flung the door beside him open. Shoving him into the room, Miranda gave the space a quick once over as she shut the door behind her. It was a small space, a break room that Silas' men used to retreat to when torturing her had become too tiresome.

When the doctor pulled himself off of the ground and turned to face her, Miranda gestured with her knife at him as she said, "Take off your shirt."

"Wha -" he gaped at her. "What?"

"Take. Off. Your. Shirt," she repeated dangerously and watched as he slowly started to unbutton his shirt. When he balled it up and tossed it at her feet, Miranda picked up the old-fashioned handcuffs and tossed them to the doctor. He caught them and held them nervously in his grasp. "Cuff your hands behind your back."

"I -"

"Do it." He nodded frantically at the sound of her growl and awkwardly cuffed his hands behind his back. Silas stared at her, waiting for her next instructions. Pointing at the chair behind him, she ordered, "Take a seat, Doctor. You must be tired."

Miranda approached him when he was seated and walked a slow circle around him as she inspected his cuffs. Satisfied that he wouldn't be able to break loose, she casually found her way in front of him again. Standing before the terrified man, Miranda ran her filthy fingers through his short hair before fisting a tuft of hair and ripping his head back. "Where's your fight, Doctor?"

Smiling to herself Miranda stood back up and stated, "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them honestly. If you don't..." she played with the knife in her grasp and shrugged. "Well, you're a smart man; I'm sure you can figure it out."

She pressed the tip of her knife against his bare chest, watching as the skin broke under the slightest amount of pressure. Silas hissed as the blade nicked him, a tear of blood rolling down his chest as he heaved for breath. "Where's my father?"

Silas shook his head, and Miranda carefully dragged the blade down, cutting his skin in a surgical manner. She didn't want him to bleed out just yet after all. Unable to stand against the pain, he cried out. "Horizon!"

A pleased smile curled her lips. This was going to be easier than she expected. Scientists, they had no threshold for pain. "What's on Horizon?"

"Sanctuary!" Blood spilled from his cut skin as he breathed, flowing out of him in streams. "Sanctuary is on Horizon. He has a science facility there."

Miranda tilted her head curiously. That was interesting, Sanctuary was a refugee base against the Reapers. If her father had a science facility there and was studying Reaper technology... She made another surgical cut along Dr Silas' chest and ignored the man's screams for her to stop. "What's he studying?"

"He wants to know more about the Reapers, how they operate!" he answered desperately.

She grit her teeth, divided between pursuing her curiosity or her purpose. After a second she decided to stick to the plan. "Does he have my sister?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes," he said with a breathy exhale.

"Thank you doctor," Miranda said before she stabbed the knife into Silas' chest, burying it deeply between the bones until it pierced his heart and stabbed the muscle with each dying beat. "You've been most cooperative."

When the man slumped lifelessly forward, Miranda turned around and left. She strode to the door on the opposite end of her interrogation room and flinched away from the blinding sunlight. She had no idea where she was or how far she was from civilization; but she would figure it out. Her sister was on Horizon, and she was going to get her.

She climbed into the shuttle parked in front of the small facility and flipped on all of the controls. Her hands were shaking as she punched in the coordinates to the nearest planet. Training for torture and experiencing it were two very different things. Her resolve might have kept her alive, but the shock of her experience was starting to kick in.

Miranda cleared her throat as she navigated the shuttle. She was going to save her sister, but first she was going to get herself cleaned off. Barging into Sanctuary wasn't going to be an option; she needed to be prepared, and she needed time to do that. Miranda set course for her apartment. There was no better cure for days of torture like a nice hot shower and a glass of wine; and there was a bottle back home with her name on it.

-X-

'120'... '121'... '122'...

James could barely feel his arms, but that didn't stop him from doing the pull ups. He was tense, anxious and a little bit more aggressive than usual. There were several reasons why he was acting the way he was; first, the mission to Thessia was a complete disaster.

After Shepard returned with the Doc and Alenko from the devastated planet, they were gathered in the war room for a debriefing. What he heard made him furious; Cerberus interfered again and the worst part was that they succeeded. The bastards took the Prothean VI and with it the chance to find out what the Catalyst was so they could finally finish the Crucible. So he suggested to hit Cerberus where it hurt them most, and he was glad when Shepard agreed with him.

Second, he still hadn't heard from Miranda yet. He counted the days since he'd last heard from her, and when he spoke the number out loud he felt the pit in his stomach grow some more. The part of his mind that had earlier told him she was safe was completely gone; now all he could hear was the part that told him she was trapped somewhere injured, or even worse, dead. He shook his head and instead focused on counting his pull ups.

'126'... '127'... Damn it Miranda… '128'... Where the hell are you?… '129'

His mind kept torturing him with the same questions over and over, until he could feel the strength leaving his arms. He loosened his grip on the pole and his feet touched the floor, his tense muscles burning from the intense exercise and grateful that he finally relieved them of their pain. He took the nearby towel and wiped the sweat from his torso and face before slumping down on the makeshift cot. He watched Cortez as he worked on the kodiak and he allowed his mind to crush him under the weight of his worry.

He knew Cortez could see the change in James' posture, he even joked that a girl was the reason for his anxiety and anger. No, James corrected to himself, not a girl, a woman. He closed his eyes and hung his head enough to stretch the tense back muscles. He sighed in relief as the tension left him, grateful that it also stopped the start of a headache, but it wasn't enough to stop him from thinking about Miranda.

He remembered the times they'd spent together, remembered the taste of the wine that made her so relaxed, so comfortable around him that she'd even smiled, proving to him that her inner beauty could compete with her outer beauty. The memory of her laugh made him smile warily. He remembered the night they slept together, and James found himself wanting to repeat that encounter more and more. It wasn't just the primal need he felt when he thought about her; he felt a much deeper attraction towards Miranda, and not just in a sexual way. No, he was sure that he cared for her, much more than he was willing to admit.

That thought frightened him a little; What if she doesn't feel the same way? he thought as he dragged a hand down his face. James knew when he was leaving an impact on a regular woman; but Miranda wasn't a regular woman. She was so much more than that, and impossible to read with no way for him to know if whether or not he was leaving an impression.

As much as it annoyed him, this infinite and unknowing chase, he had to admit that it also spurred him on. At first he'd only wanted to prove himself that not even a woman like Miranda could resist his charms, without realizing how much he already fell for her. He kept telling himself that what he felt for her was strictly sexual; but now the evidence to the contrary was irrefutable. Every moment that passed without him knowing where she was his chest would start to hurt, heavy with worry for her wellbeing.

He knew what he wanted to do if they ever did see each other again. He wanted another date. A real one this time. He wanted to take her out to a nice restaurant where candles burned on the center of the table, and romantic music playing in background. He wanted to give her a night to remember and a night to forget everything that was going on around them. He wanted them to be a normal couple going out, nothing more and nothing less; and afterwards, he wanted to hear her moan underneath him again and whisper his name.

James didn't even realize his omni-tool was buzzing until it was almost too late. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts from Miranda, he went to answer the call only for his heart to jump up into his throat. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Rubbing his fingers into his eyes, when he looked back down at his omni-tool he was certain that the name on the screen was Miranda Lawson. James jumped up from the cot and started to pace a small line up and down as he ran a hand through his hair. Letting out a long breath he willed his hand to accept the call. Once her face appeared on the screen, his heartbeat increased even more.

"Miranda," he said, not even bothering to hide the worry from his voice. He stopped pacing and tried to focus on her, "Miranda, what- where…"

She smiled warmly at him before saying, "James, I'm sorry for taking so long to answer your calls and messages. I was… distracted."

He narrowed his eyes as he took a better look at her. Anger started to bubble inside him, his blood boiling as he noticed how pale her skin was, the dark circles under her eyes. The right side of her lower lip was split and there was a long bruise that marred the length of her left cheek bone. Her eyebrow was a bit swollen and split as well. Red rimmed his vision as James breathed heavily to control his growing anger. "What the hell happened? Who did this to you?"

Miranda kept smiling as if the things that happened to her didn't matter and weren't important. "I'm fine, I just ran into some resistance searching for Oriana."

That did nothing to reassure him, and he started pacing up and down again. "Resistance?" he asked. Her face looked like she'd run into a lot more than just resistance. "Miranda, tell me who did this to you and-"

"James," her tone was low and threatening. He stopped dead in his tracks and gave her a defiant look, too stubborn to drop the subject that easily. She spoke up before he could say anything, "I'm fine, please. Just… let's drop the matter and talk."

James grit his teeth, his anger not allowing him to hear the pleading tone of her voice. "Miranda, who did this? I swear I'm going to find him and-"

"If you don't want to talk to me; fine!"

Suddenly, James was very aware of the distressed tone of her voice, how tired she truely looked. If he didn't stop pursuing this she would disconnect the call. "Wait! Miranda, wait. Please…" Her eyes found his on the screen and he could feel his heart skip a beat at the intensity of them. "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"I'm fine," her voice was soft and she sounded as exhausted as she looked. "I had to kill a few mercs. Things got a little messy but I took care of it. I'm okay, so please... let's just talk about something else." She gave him another warm smile and crossed her hands on the surface before her. "How are you?"

James took a deep breath as he sat down on the cot. Something was definitely up. Miranda never smiled at him like that, at least not while she was sober, and definitely not this often. Sighing, he decided to do as she asked and drop the subject for now. Letting a small smile twitch briefly at the corners of his mouth, he replied, "I'm fine. Worried and exhausted, but fine."

She nodded curtly before saying, "Well, detail's, James. It's been a while, I'm sure you have a lot to share with me," a teasing smile curled her lips.

James let out a laugh as he ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, yeah, a lot has happened. Mostly bad stuff though." Later he'd bring up how unfair it was that she wanted him to unload on her when she wouldn't do the same for him. After the days he had spent worrying, she couldn't honestly expect him to just drop the subject.

Her smile vanished and a frown replaced it, "What happened?"

A heavy sigh escaped him and he let the silence stretch between them for a little before he found the words to answer her. "Shepard, Liara and Alenko went to Thessia to retrieve some Prothean VI which would help us understand what the Catalyst is. Just when Shepard was about to take it, Kai Leng appeared and took the VI."

Her brows furrowed together in annoyance, "Leng took the VI?"

"Yeah, now we're heading to kick Cerberus' ass. I mean, we have to, right? Everything depends on us." His voice trailed off as he spoke. He didn't tear away his gaze from her though, he noticed the sympathetic look she sent him and somehow, that look warmed his heart.

"I'm sorry," she said, obviously not knowing what else to say. "It must've been hard for you."

James locked his gaze with hers and swallowed hard at the amount of exhaustion and sadness he found there. He took a deep, silent breath through his nose as he decided to ask what was on his mind. "Miranda," he paused, giving himself a little more time to gather the necessary courage. "Did you find your sister?"

Miranda's features fell and it seemed to James the question exhausted her even more, "Yes," she answered, averting her gaze to her hands.

"And? Is she safe?"

She lifted her gaze and locked it with his, "No, but she will be."

"Miranda... if you need help-"

"James, I'm fine," the tight pinch to her voice proved him otherwise. Whatever she had experienced in the few days they hadn't spoken, it must have been jarring. Miranda was typically much more conserved than this.

He took another deep breath and decided to speak what was really on his heart, "Miranda I - I missed you."

"James-"

"I thought something happened to you, that you were dead." He watched her expression change with his admission. Miranda's brows furrowed with a thoughtful expression that almost looked concerned as she visibly wrestled with her emotions. Even though he knew she wouldn't just tell him what it was she was feeling, James was dying to know what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. She shifted in her seat and opened her mouth to speak, but he was faster, "And don't tell me you're fine because I'm not stupid; I can see that you're in pain and I won't even ask where you are because you probably won't tell me."

The smirk that coiled the corner of her mouth was grateful. "Thank you," she simply said.

A moment of silence passed between them. There was so much James wanted to tell her, but now that he watched her appearance on the screen, he wasn't so sure if he should. How was it that she always rendered him speechless or made him forget the stresses of the crumbling galaxy around them?

He feared he knew the reason, but dismissed it quickly with a shake of his head. Still, the insecure and nervous feeling remained; am I sweating, he thought as he shifted his feet. He inspected her bruised features and gritted his teeth against his anger that threatened to resurface. Someone had dared to hurt her. They'd marked her with bruises and for that James would make them pay. Sooner or later he'd find out who had given her that busted lip, and he was going to go on a hunt. Hurting Miranda was a crime punishable by death.

James bit back his anger and forced himself to refocus on their conversation. "Miranda," she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. A small smile was plastered on her face as she awaited his question. Offering her a warm smile of his own, he said, "Everything is going to be fine. You'll see."

To the doubtful expression she gave him, he added, "You'll save your sister, and you'll be fine. And we're going to have that third date you promised."

She raised an eyebrow in question but couldn't hide the small smile that lit up her bruised face. "I don't remember promising such a thing."

James rolled his eyes playfully as a smirk unearthed on his face, "You can't even remember what you said after one glass of wine. I told you the wine makes you fuzzy."

"Wine does not make me fuzzy," she tried to sound annoyed, but the attempt failed as a brighter smile lit up her face. "You were the fuzzy one, Mr. 'I'm more of a whisky drinker' and you only drank one glass."

"Ha! I wouldn't make much of a marine if I couldn't drink my own weight." To the challenging purse of her lips, he argued, "I'm the great Commander Shepard's lieutenant. Do you have any idea how hard that woman can drink?"

"I do," her smile brightened as she reminded him, "I was her XO for a time. Shepard started this drinking game; every time Kasumi said Jacob's name, or mentioned his body we had to take a shot." When James' grin grew so did hers. "There was also one for each time that Garrus mentioned calibrations."

"Cala-bro-tions!" James said with a laugh. "That game lives on! Since you've already drank with the best of them, try next time to outdrink me, you'll be surprised." he let his confidence reflect in his voice. He didn't know what he said, but her expression fell and her smile disappeared from her face as she lowered her gaze to her hands. He watched her, his own smile disappearing in the process. He didn't have to be next to her to feel that something was eating her.

Miranda couldn't look him in the eye anymore. There was a tick in her jaw as she ground her teeth, her gaze still on her fingers off of the screen. He could tell that there was something bothering her, that there was something she wanted to say, but something was holding her back. Even though he wanted nothing more than for her to open up and tell him what was on her mind, James knew that she couldn't be pressured. Miranda was a tough nut to crack, and she'd tell him what was up when she was good and ready; not a moment sooner.

"We'll have that third date," she whispered the words and bit her lip as if to keep herself from taking them back.

James blinked twice, not registering what she'd just said and mistaking it for his own wishful thinking. Her gaze was on his mouth and he could only guess what she was thinking about right now, her expression didn't give anything away.

Miranda released her lip from between her teeth and smiled. "As soon as we get some free time we'll have that date."

"I'm glad," James admitted, not caring if he would push her away with his honesty. "Because I would really like to get to know you, Miranda. As a person, away from all this," he could see the smile on her lips stretching a little, her eyes still locked on his lips and he dared to insert, "All of you."

"Me too, James," he knew he never looked more shocked in his entire life. His mind replayed her words again and again, his heart beating rapidly against his rib cage. She wants to get to know me too, he thought and had to suppress the urge to start jumping up and down in glee.

Glancing off screen, her expression shifted and she straightened her posture with purpose. She let out a long, shaky breath and said, "I- I have some business to take care off."

He'd almost forgotten his worry, as surprising as it was. The concern he had felt before, during her absence, it had been all consuming and it was back as good as new. James knew Miranda well enough to recognize that determined set to her paled features. She was bruised and cut up, and ready for a fight but where and with whom, he hadn't the slightest idea. He wouldn't even bother asking; she'd never tell him anyway. Though there was one thing he could ask of her. "Promise me you'll stay safe," he demanded, even though his voice was unusually soft.

"I will. Promise."

She said the words and still James wasn't convinced. Before he could beg her to stay, she said, "There's this lovely restaurant on Illium that serves the best calamari I've ever tasted in my entire life."

James offered her a warm smile and promised, "I'll make us reservations. As soon as I get back from this mission, I'll take you there."

"Goodbye, James." The screen blackened as she disconnected the call.

He stared at his omni-tool, his heart in his stomach as he returned his hand to his side. Something about that goodbye sounded so final. Days of unrequited worry returned to him all at once. James would have that third date, and he was willing to go to hell and back to make sure of it.