"So where's Jack?"

Miranda finished programming the destination into the shuttle and looked at Shepard while the door slid closed. "Clothes shopping. Seriously," Miranda said with a half laugh at the woman's arched eyebrow, "It's not like you can have this stuff delivered anymore and she quickly tired of commissary fashion. She has particular tastes, as I'm sure you recall."

Shepard eyed the purple bruises at the base of Miranda's neck and quipped, "Very particular tastes."

Just the weight of that look had Miranda blushing, but she calmly set the shuttle to auto and reclined. She kept her expression neutral when she finally met Shepard's intent gaze, "She can be very...enthusiastic."

Shepard finally broke her stare and cleared her throat, looking instead at where they were headed, and Miranda wondered for a moment if she was offended by the minor injury, "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

The woman's cheeks colored and she smiled, "Not in a bad way. Missing Liara is all." She fidgeted for a moment before looking at her again, "So is she really shopping or did you run her off to preserve my privacy?"

"Bit of both," she admitted.

"Did it bother her?" Shepard pressed, then shrugged when Miranda's eyes sharpened, "Hey, just wondering if I need to duck the next time I see her. Occupational hazard."

"We talked about it. I wouldn't worry," she responded thoughtfully as trees flew beneath them.

Shepard broke the silence, "You know, I think I might have sounded insensitive when I first found out about you two. Not what I intended."

"You were surprised, I know you didn't mean anything by it. You should have seen the look on Jacob's face," she replied with a smirk.

Her face lit up with curiosity, "This I've got to hear!"

Miranda waved her hand dismissively, "Oh he didn't say a word, you know him. All smiles and nods and quiet judgement." Her eyes turned mischievous, "I could tell it was positively killing him, though," she said, chuckling at the memory.

Shepard grinned, obviously imagining what he must have looked like before joining her, their laughter filling the small space. "He does take himself pretty seriously, doesn't he? Though I guess we all do to some extent."

Miranda nodded, still smiling, "Comes with responsibility, I'm sure. He doesn't want to show any cracks, especially with the latest drama."

"You think he didn't approve because you were moving on or because it was Jack?"

"Knowing him? Mmmmn, I think it was more that I no longer fit into that neat little box he set aside for me in his mind. Jacob doesn't like surprises and now he has to rethink everything about me."

"I can't blame him too much for that. You've changed quite a bit."

"Yeah?" She asked pleasantly.

"Yeah. You always seemed cold. Distracted. You were in your head pretty much 24/7," Shepard shrugged, searching for the words, "And I get that. I got it at the time, too. It's just nice to see the real you, I guess."

"The real me," she repeated softly, "Perhaps you're right."

"At the risk of sounding insensitive again, you think it'll last?" Shepard's expression was sincere, so Miranda gave it some thought.

"Who can say? We are very different in some ways but surprisingly alike in others. Her past makes things more difficult of course, but the fact that I'm not out to get something from her seems to go a long way."

"It does seem hard to believe she'd trust you," Shepard said, "I think that more than anything else is why your relationship was so shocking."

Miranda smirked at the lie, "More than anything else?"

Shepard chuckled, "Okay, you got me. What do you see in her? Don't get me wrong, I have immense respect. Immense. I'm just...having trouble doing the math."

"That's just it. There is no math," Miranda said flatly to further confusion on Shepard's face. Miranda smiled and shook her head, then tried again. "My entire life has been planned and laid out, every decision based on a goal, every relationship nurtured for an outcome. Niket was the only person in my life that was my friend simply because of our history and even that proved to be a lie. For the first time in my life I am doing something purely for the enjoyment of it. No plans, no objectives, no math."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully, but clearly still struggled with the concept.

"Who else do you know that feels that alone in life? Feels that any relationship they've ever had has been about goals and outcomes? Feels that nobody in the galaxy could ever simply want something real and honest?"

The lights turned on in Shepard's eyes, so Miranda continued, "What do I see in her? Myself in darker circumstance. She is...intelligent, brave and beautiful. She never stops fighting, no matter what."

Shepard's eyes softened and she smiled, "Wow. Miss Lawson if I didn't know better, I'd say you're in love."

Miranda felt her cheeks warm, "Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"Tch, I was the same way, 'til Liara," Shepard said, looking out at the scenery, "No time for feelings, they just get in the way, right?" she said, adding a quick wink in Miri's direction, "But honestly? I don't think I would have made it to the end without her to fight for. That kind of love can put people back together. Maybe it'll work for you two."

Miranda smiled softly, "And here I thought I was the one giving advice."

Shepard blew on her fingernails proudly and grinned. The shuttle continued to lift higher and higher up the mountain slope and the Spectre's eyes focused on the starkly beautiful landscape revealed above the visible treeline. "This is a long way from civilization," she mused.

Miranda took back control of the shuttle and slowed, searching for the landmarks of her landing zone. "That is the point. I think living in those sarcophagi down there made me crave some distance. There," she said in recognition and hovered over her property, spinning to give Shepard the view of Vigil, "So, what do you think?"

Shepard's jaw dropped, "What do I think? I wanna know how you are gonna get anything actually built up here."

Miranda conceded the point, "It might take some time, but I'm planning a little cabin for starters. That shouldn't be too difficult." She set the shuttle down in the same clearing she had used for her and Jack's vacation then shut the engines down.

Shepard followed her out, then just walked around the clearing. She closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths, savoring the fresh air and afternoon sun that slanted down through the canopy, "A little cabin would be all I put up here."

"Mmnhmm. I'm not quite so Spartan, I'm afraid."

"Shocking," she retorted, turning in the direction of Vigil, "Yeah, you'll need to take these trees down to get the view, but they are good sized. You can use them to build the structure." She walked to the far ends of the clearing, looking down the slope analytically, "So where are the property boundaries? The slope is pretty steep here."

Miranda answered all her questions as they hiked around. Shepard seemed to have a genuine interest in how she could best use the property and they swapped ideas, falling into a simple but satisfying problem solving rhythm. When darkness began to fall they returned to the clearing a little fatigued but with eyes sparkling at the promise of what the place could be.

"Yep. It's beautiful. Gonna be a bit cold in winter, though," Shepard said, looking at the moonrise.

"Just an excuse for a massive hearth as far as I'm concerned. And speaking of," Miranda said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Speaking of what?"

"Come on, Miss N7," she pointed imperiously to a ring of stones with some darkened coals scattered within, "That fire isn't going to make itself."

Later, as the flames kept the chill darkness at bay, Miranda sipped at a warm drink, blanket wrapped around her shoulders while Shepard told her about her dreams.

Miranda watched her obliquely, paying as much attention to how Shepard spoke as what she said. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs while her hands poked a stick into the coals. Her words were wooden, rote. This was an old wound, long scabbed over. Her face showed no emotion with the telling but her eyes also never left the licking flames. It was the only way she could get through them, apparently, for every time Miranda caught her attention she lost track and it would take time for her to begin again.

So she waited patiently until Shepard ran out of variations, until she ran out of words. All the dreams seemed to share similar threads though Miranda wasn't sure if Shepard was aware of that fact. She just stayed quiet until Shepard looked at her without invitation, only then asking, "Do you remember the first time you had one of these?"

Shepard took a deep breath and relaxed until she sat crosslegged, then stretched her back, "Dunno. Had 'em a long time."

"Can you tell me if it was before or after Eden Prime?"

"Before. Before I went into the service even. That's why I told you this wasn't a big deal."

That surprised her. Her first guess was that the Prothean Beacons and their graphic warnings about the Reapers may have been the cause. "Did you have trouble sleeping as well?"

"Yeah. Just a light sleeper I guess."

"So you are able to sleep, but then the dreams wake you?"

"No, most of the time I don't get that far."

"Can you tell me more about that? What does a normal night look like for you?"

Shepard clearly didn't like talking about this, but she rotated her shoulders, relaxing the muscles there and pushed on, "There's this….pulse. Not like electricity but sometimes I can swear I see it behind my eyes. I get real close to sleep, just enough for what's real to kind of blur. If I stay there, I can fade in and out most of the night. If I go deeper, then I get that pulse." She shook her head with uncertainty, "I dunno really how to describe it. It starts in my stomach and ends up in my head and I..my eyes just open. It's only when I can ignore that, when I can just let go...that I dream at all."

"It sounds a bit like a reaction many people have when they are about to fall asleep. Their muscles jerk them awake. Does that sound like what you are experiencing?"

"No, I've had those, though. This is more like...adrenaline. I just don't feel sleepy afterward. Sometimes I have to get up and walk before I can even lie back down."

Miranda took another sip while she thought. There had to be a rational explanation for it but she didn't know what it was. She couldn't put herself in Shepard's shoes without being horrified, though. It sounded like she was punishing herself anytime she relaxed with a dream of dire consequence. An excess of adrenaline was often a problem with the kidneys but Shepard had never had any such diagnosis, and the replacement organs definitely wouldn't be the source of such a thing. It had to be some form of anxiety, but if it was occurring before any mention of the Reapers…

"Would you tell me about Mindoir?"

Her easy answer belied the haunted look in her eyes, "Sure. What do you want to know? I assume you know the story."

Miranda tilted her head at the reply, instincts screaming, "I'd like to know the parts you didn't tell the Alliance."

Shepard tilted her own head, eyes sharpening, "Bad things. Things I've moved past."

"I think we both know that's not true," Miranda said without a trace of cruelty in her voice.

Shepard looked away, then looked back at her for a brief moment, then turned to the fire before she could sit no longer. When she launched to her feet and started pacing Miranda knew she had hit paydirt. This was the source of the issue and Miranda knew she couldn't stop now.

"Shepard!" She exclaimed until the woman turned and looked at her, "Talk to me. This is what we're here for, isn't it?"

She stopped and put her hands on her hips, then sighed and looked at the ground, "It was my fault. They all died because of me."

"Go on. What happened?"

She rubbed her face with one hand and spoke into her palm with a pall of shame, "When they took New Hope they rounded us all up and stuck us in the gym. There must have been two hundred of us, maybe more. As they were bringing me and my parents in I noticed that all of the slavers were piling up on their ships and taking off. I didn't know that they were going to fight the marines that had just landed, but what I did see was that there were only maybe a dozen Batarians left to hold us there. We walked in and everyone was just waiting quietly for someone to come save us. We had them more than twenty to one, but not a soul was gonna lift a finger to save themselves." She gestured with a hand in frustration, "I told my parents. I told them that they could just take them out. Sure, some of us might die but we had all seen the vids. We all knew what was going to happen if we didn't. But they just stood there."

Shepard was pacing again, that frustration growing into anger, "They said they were just farmers, that they couldn't fight. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Just because they were farmers they couldn't pile on? Had they never seen a football game?" She finally stopped, her lip curled in revulsion, "I was so...angry. When they started taking us out and putting the collars on I just…."

Miranda stood up and caught Shepard's eye before holding out a hand. Shepard just stared at it with the same disdain she felt for the colonists, seeing it as a sign of weakness. She lowered her hand slowly but didn't drop her eyes.

"I got one of their rifles," Shepard continued, her face stone-like, "He let down his guard, thought we were all spineless. I shot him and shouted for us to defend ourselves." Her voice trailed away to a whisper, "I thought surely...surely now….but only a few even moved."

Her eyes were sightless, lost in memory of the massacre that followed, but then the emotion drained from her face and her tone lightened, "I got a pretty good crack in the head during the struggle but I could still see. They cut us down like wheat in a field."

"It must have been horrible to watch them die."

"It was," she said numbly, "My parents...they begged." Miranda listened to her talk as if she were describing a picture rather than a formative event, a sense of unease growing within her, "But they weren't finished with me yet."

What followed made Miranda nauseous. The part of Shepard's interview she saw about the Blitz made much more sense now. Shepard's razor focus against the Reapers made more sense. Her relentless drive to build a consensus against them made sense. She made sense.

The official story went that once the Batarians began to lose their hold on the colony they simply executed their prisoners before their retreat. Miranda briefly wondered which story was true, but in the end what she believed didn't really matter; only what Shepard remembered.

After a lengthy silence, Shepard asked with a grim smile, "So what do you think? Should they let me back in?"

Now that Miranda finally saw who she really was it made her hesitate, "You lied to the recruiter during your admissions eval I'm guessing."

She didn't even flinch at the question, "I told them what they wanted to hear. There was nothing left for me on Mindoir, and with the Batarians acting up they needed soldiers. My background was a bonus as far as they were concerned."

They should probably have never let her into the Navy to begin with and might not have if they knew the truth; but the irony was that if they hadn't everyone in the galaxy would now be dead. Miranda had no idea how Shepard hadn't broken under the weight of her guilt, but it was as if she had been made for this struggle; her entire life spent making up for that singular sin.

"I think we should get some sleep. Thank you for letting me in, Shepard. I know it wasn't easy."

Shepard looked relieved to let the memories go and nodded before building up the fire.

Of course, neither of them slept much.

Miranda woke before dawn to see Shepard's face illuminated by her Omni and the fire still burning merrily. It had obviously been well tended, and the woman looked like she'd been up for a while.

Lawson rubbed her eyes gently and yawned, "All caught up?"

"Heh," was the woman's derogatory response.

"When does your assistant start work?"

"As soon as he arrives. I'd like to tell him to start right now, but that would be kind of rude since we haven't even met." Shepard shut down the interface and smiled at her, "You might wanna check yours. Liara's been busy."

"Oh?" Miri replied with a suggestive wink, "I think I know what you've been spending all these late night hours doing, now."

Shepard looked chagrined but didn't take it lying down, "Oh yeah? Well if it makes you feel better we included you. Liara sent you something really 'special'."

Lawson feigned a shocked expression, "Should I show Jack?"

"Definitely not!" She replied before giving her a devilish smile, "Unless you want to."

Miranda chuckled and started to rise, but Shepard was quicker, "You might want to be seated for this. I'll get the coffee going."

Now her interest was truly piqued, "Sounds serious."

"Yep."

Miranda read quietly while the coffee heated over the fire, the little crook between her brow growing deeper line by line while the mountains behind her became stark silhouettes. When Shepard handed her a steaming cup she looked up, "This is...a bold plan."

Shepard nodded mid-sip and searched Miranda's face, "What do you think?"

Miranda sighed. "I think it's the riskiest proposition I've seen since we first heard of Omega Four," she said, meeting Shepard's gaze unflinchingly, "Anything goes wrong and I lose everything."

Shepard raised her eyebrows and her shoulders in surrender, "You're right. It's too much to ask." She took another drink and sat back on her elbows but never broke her gaze, "But there's nobody else that can do what you can; not that we can trust and has no conflicts of interest. Plus, think about what might happen if everything goes right."

Miranda sipped her coffee and considered carefully, "I would expect to be fully repaid followed by a commensurate share of future profits."

"I don't think we ever considered less."

Miranda still looked very unsure, "And you're positive the Council will go along with it?"

"The details are Liara's, but this was Tevos' brainchild. You'll have Spectre protection along with any intel we receive to mitigate problems before they arise."

Miranda shook her head and then spontaneously chuckled, "I certainly never expected to wake up to this. I need to think it over."

"Take your time. I just need your decision before we find the data."

Miranda nodded and they both started cooking up breakfast. The frogs and crickets quieted and birds began their songs as the sun crept over the mountaintop and closer to its summit. They spent the time silently, just enjoying companionship without any expectations. When Shepard started scooping out the contents of the skillet onto a plate Miranda finally spoke, "Jordan is a lovely name. Why don't you use it?"

The look Shepard gave her was one she would remember for the rest of her life. It brooked no discussion at all, the ice in them crystal clear, "It was a religious name. It's not who I am anymore. I'll thank you not to speak it again."

Miranda's eyes widened at her tone and Shepard's jaw tightened with regret. She dropped her eyes and pursed her lips, mumbling an apology.

"It's fine," Miranda replied, her own tone a bit clipped, "But if you're going to go back to that panel you can't react this way to normal questions. You understand that, yeah?"

Shepard took a bite of her food, lost in thought. Then, as if it were everything she hated, "Fine. What's your advice?"

"My advice is for you to come to grips with what happened on Mindoir," she said gently.

Shepard gave her an exasperated look, "Ancient history."

Miranda shook her head with her own exasperated expression, "You may have fooled the rest of the world about that but it's just not true, and with the brass obviously digging deeper that's the conclusion they're going to come to as well."

Shepard grit her teeth, a surge of anger welling like a waking volcano, "So what? Let's be honest here...haven't I done enough to warrant a little trust? Who gives a…." She grit her teeth again and clamped down on the outburst just waiting behind her tongue, "I shouldn't have to answer to them about this kind of shit, we've got more important things to worry about."

Miranda tilted her head, her patience thinning, "Right, let's change perspectives for a moment, shall we? Let's pretend that you are under investigation for a crime that carries a possible death sentence." She held up three fingers and counted them down one at a time, "The person who has been assigned to prosecute you is in business with the judge, sleeps with the victim's sister and the last person they prosecuted never made it to trial under mysterious circumstances."

Shepard rolled her eyes but Miranda dug in, "How concerned would you be about ferreting out the prosecutor's motivations, hmm?"

"That's...ridiculous," she groaned.

"No, it's not. You're a Spectre who has the power to be judge and jury over any person and now potentially any government in the galaxy! May I remind you that you just tried to cut a deal with me that completely bypasses every single governmental entity in the galaxy to favor a Shadow organization run by your girlfriend? Really now. Take a moment and think about it. I'll just...finish my coffee." She took a demonstrative sip, staring at her expectantly.

The arched eyebrow and melodramatic speech struck Shepard as suddenly hilarious and she began to laugh around a mouthful of food despite the shreds Miranda's words had left of her argument. When Miri's eyes narrowed in anger she put her plate down and held up a hand to ward her off while she continued to chuckle, "Okay! Okay! Maybe I haven't thought this through."

"You're damned right you haven't," Miranda huffed. Shepard just continued to grin at her discomfiture, so she turned her frustration into cleaning up the dishes.

When she went for Shepard's plate the woman reached out and stilled her by the wrist, "Come on now. I'm sorry." When their eyes met, Miranda nodded. It was patently obvious through their history together and in the last few minutes that the Commander almost never allowed physical contact, so the effort wasn't lost on her.

"So…." Shepard continued a bit awkwardly in an attempt to move on, "How would you suggest I 'come to grips' then?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure you can; at least not before you meet with Dr. Fields," she said while putting away their bedding. Once done, she looked back at Shepard, "You do realize that Mindoir wasn't your fault, right?"

Shepard finished collecting the dishes and began scrubbing them with a brush, punctuating some of her words with elbow grease, "Do I get that the Batarians were evil bastards and if the colonists hadn't all died they might have been subjected to much worse? Sure, but the fact is that it was my disobedience that got everyone I ever knew killed; man, woman and child. There's nothing anyone can say or do to change my mind about that."

"While I understand your perspective I can't agree," Miranda replied, though Shepard patently ignored her. "Jordan," she called firmly, and that got the woman's attention. Shepard glared at her dangerously, but Miri overrode the wordless rebuke, "You can't go through your life pretending that a part of you simply doesn't exist!" Miranda's eyes softened and she took a step closer, but this time kept a respectful distance, "Look, you need to heal. I mean really heal. I would hazard you haven't really made that attempt yet and simply keep getting drawn into more and more difficult situations to keep from thinking about it."

"I wish that were true," Shepard said grimly, "I thought about little else for a decade, and you know something? Dr. Fields was right about one thing." Her eyes dropped along with the volume of her voice, "I did hate the Batarians. I killed every one I could find for a very long time, especially on Elysium. I made them pay with every bit of imagination I had, even after I became a Spectre."

"That's understandable," Miranda offered softly.

"Is it?" Shepard asked archly, "What about Aratoht?"

Miranda shook her head adamantly, "You had no choice, you know that."

"And yet the whole time I was under arrest I found myself wondering if I wasn't just a bit too enthusiastic about pressing that damn button. 300,000 batarians, Miri. How many of them were actually responsible for my parents?"

"Likely none, but none of them were responsible for the Reapers either. Lay that one at their doorstep, you've got plenty on your plate as is."

"Yeah," she agreed half-heartedly. "Choice of occupation notwithstanding, I...I think I'm just tired of killing." Shepard looked up at her, the question clamoring for release, "Does that sound stupid?"

Miranda looked at her friend for a long moment, "Not at all. Unfortunately this thing you are doing with Liara and the Council isn't likely to lead you down the most peaceful of paths."

Shepard shrugged and continued with her chore, drying the pots once clean, "Can't be worse than what I've already done. Maybe I just need to accept that this is who I am."

"Hey," Miranda said until Shepard met her eyes, "There's no question that this is who you were meant to be. That doesn't mean it has to be who you are tomorrow. It's the same advice I gave Jack."

"Yeah? What did she say to that?"

Miranda smirked, "That I should stop trying to fix her."

They both began to chuckle knowingly, and Shepard stood to put away the equipment. "Well," she reassured her, "That's not my answer. Fix away."

"I think Liara is right," she said after a moment of thought. "I think the Asari might be able to help you, or even a regular psychologist; but as usual you are stuck in the middle of something you can't leave. You want my advice? You are going to have to fake it if you want to pass the evaluation, but you are going to have to do it well. It doesn't take much to set you off right now and they'll pounce on that."

Shepard looked up at the clear open sky, the pastel hues of morning settling into a respectable blue. She didn't want to go back just yet but there were people waiting. Always waiting. "Dammit. Why can't I just write them a letter and promise to be good?" she retorted sarcastically.

The returning smile was understanding but humorless, so Shepard sighed and shrugged, "Fine. I'll call him today and set something up. How hard can it be for me to just keep my temper for an hour? I'll try and put his mind at ease."

Miranda nodded and looked pleased, then continued packing. "Hey," Shepard said earnestly before she could turn away to the shuttle, "Thanks. Again..I seem to be telling you that often, don't I?"

"Don't fret about the score," she said as she climbed inside, "You've got a few points on the board, as I recall."