The warm yellow light illuminated the living room. The pile of empty beer-bottles laying under the low coffee table cast short shadows reaching towards the small couch neighbouring with a pale wall behind it. Numerous scratches and minor holes, souvenirs of Eezo's playing habits, decorated both the walls and the couch. Next to the table also stood an armchair. A poor fraud of beige leather. Although, it was in a visibly better state than the rest of furniture, no-one seemed to prefer it over the couch. Most probably since the narrow seat provided amount of space suitable only for a five year old.
On the couch sat Jack, staring across the table. Her elbows on the table, swirling the bottle in her hand as she said, "And then the krogan goes 'It was a pyjack all along!'"
A genuine eruption of laughter followed from both her and Miranda. Muffled whizzing filled the room as both women tried to balance the laughter, breathing, and not rocking like maniacs. All at the same time.
Miranda's face adopted a shade of cheerful redness before she managed to withhold the remaining chuckle. The alcohol in her blood circulated, giving her the false impression of high temperature. Despite that, she leaned back, taking another sip of the red wine from her glass. She thought it to be quite interesting that Jack actually had specifically wine-glasses. She never struck Miranda as someone who would fully enjoy the delicate aroma and savour of this kind of liquor, but rather prefer something more pungent.
"Well that's a plot twist! Even krogans have their limits when it comes to drinking."
"No, no. There isn't such thing as too much alcohol," Jack chuckled before taking a sip from her bottle. She leaned forwards across the table, narrowing her eyes, she said in a secretive tone, "That's what they want you to think."
"Who's them?" Miranda asked, now interested in the new theory. Was it the Alliance? Was it the Council? The Reapers? No, they were long gone, but who could stand behind the so-cruel antagonism of alcohol consumption... Her all-running thoughts got rudely interrupted by Jack's usual toneless response.
"Does it really matter?" Jack twisted the beer as to see the label. Her gaze smoothly slid along the letters. Earthly beer. It was a luxury a few months ago, but now as the industry was getting back on its feet it ceased to amaze anyone. But it was still a fucking good beer.
"I guess not." Miranda shrugged before wiggling a little, ready to stand up. "I'm going to get another bottle, do you want one too?" Miranda asked, squeezing herself between the coffee table and the armchair she sat on a moment ago. Finally, with the last squeak of the material, she managed to stand up. The gravitation didn't seem as a great opponent after defeating the Reapers but it still made her rock slightly.
"Ugh," Jack peaked inside the bottle, furrowing her eyebrows, clearly unamused with the amount left, "sure."
"Where on Earth are they..." Miranda muttered to herself going through yet another cupboard of the orange elevation that ran across the wall. It was facing a long table that resembled a counter top of a bar, much alike to the one belonging to Shepard. Miranda often would smile briefly, passing by, remembering the good old times. Well, the war wasn't fun at all, but having Shepard around, nothing seemed impossible. Maybe beside her and Jack getting along. And yet it happened. Finally, after a couple minutes of struggles she groaned faintly, deciding she hasn't had the nerve for that. Especially on that particular night when she was free from work and actually enjoying herself. "Jack, where's the wine? I can't find it." She yelled, turning her face towards the door in anticipation. In silence, she awaited an answer, but as none came she sighted loudly, shaking her head before opening one of the cupboards she has already checked, hoping that maybe by the means of magic or whatever else she would find the wine there.
"Move yourself," Jack said. Oddly, in a non-aggressive, almost gentle way. Miranda almost jumped in the air in astonishment; instead a barely audible gasp left her lips. She hasn't heard Jack walking over to her nor was she able to see her, having her head inside the furniture. To her own surprise she regarded the mistake as rather silly and didn't feel upset or dissapointed. After all it was her home; there was nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore. No Collectors, no Reapers, no Alliance, no Cerberus. As the thought crossed her mind she realized that peace and boredom bordered with each other with a very thin line.
Jack had her limits, especially when it came to patience. Seeing Miranda lose herself in whatever was going on in her mind, she rolled her eyes. If she hasn't drinked with the ex-Cerberus before, she would think that the alcohol was taking a hold of her. "Earth to Miranda, we've got wine to find."
Hearing Jack's voice Miranda instantly snapped back to reality. Shaking off the remaining thoughts, she took a step back with a quiet: "Of course." She moved back, pushing herself onto the corner sideboard, ready to assist with... well anything.
Jack tapped her chin, her gaze sliding through all the possible places until a hardly-visible smirk came onto her face. Reaching up to one of the cupboards three or four feet above her head her black leather jacked slid up setting itself tighter on the bony shoulders and exposing the collarbones.
Miranda caught herself staring at the sculpted muscles of Jack's abs as they twitched every time she stretched towards the shelf. How the ink under her skin worked within the body lined with scars. She frowned at the sole idea of what stories hid behind those scars, and that she believed Miranda to be a part of this.
She moved her eyes up, stopping by her small breasts hidden under the white clothed bra, and then even higher, admiring the focus on her face as the dark brown eyes remained still on the goal. Miranda's cheeks turned red as she cleared her throat and looked away, pointing her gaze towards the floor. She could feel her head spin, the floor tiles swaying under her feet, her vision becoming blurry. She blinked
"Not this fuckin one either." Jack cussed under her breath as she banged her fist on the cupboard's door, slamming it close. She clutched her lips in a thin line, squinting her eyes. Her body rocked swiftly back and forth as her side leaned closer to Miranda.
The burning sensation in her chicks was growing unbereable just like the desperate need to look up and steal one more glimpse at the enticing body clothed with tattoos. Her head was becoming heavy. She locked her hands behind her back, trying not to act upon her desires as the other woman repeatively brushed against her.
At last, Jack was so close from getting the bottle. So close and yet so far. Her fingertips even flicked it once or twice. Why would I have it so fuckin high...
"Enough!" Jack scowled, climbing the countertop. Her arms haven't budged even so slightly as she pulled herself up. Finally, she stood up, taking the bottle out. As she was just about to climb down a thought occurred to her: I'll get two, just in case. She grabbed another bottle, glancing once more on the shelf. Nothing left in here, fortunately. She jumped down swiftly, a bottle in each hand, before glimpsing at Miranda.
"Are you alright, cheerleader? You look pale."
"I'm fine..." Miranda mumbled, an instant before the sight of the floor approached her.