A/N: FemShep/Miranda Pairing - This story is entirely wish fulfillment. I think that Miranda Lawson is one of the most beautiful Bioware girls ever, and I was annoyed at having to sit through Mark Meer's voice acting to romance her with a ManShep.
Synopsis: Given a mixture of mutual respect, a looming suicide mission, and being in the company of an equally strong, gorgeous woman; Miranda develops a crush on Commander Shepard. This tale spans from ME2 through to ME3. It is slightly AU with the main pairing, and some creative license will be taken at certain points, but overall I shall stick to the canon story-arc as much as possible.
Rated M: This story contains adult content, such as sex scenes, a femslash pairing, offensive language, both implied and described violence, as well as a fairly renegade Shepard. Enjoy.
***** Mass Effect and all its characters are owned by Bioware and EA Games *****
1
DREAM GIRL
Miranda Lawson runs the figures for the fourth time, reading every number and decimal point. She needs to be sure.
"Wilson," she calls out in her crisp Australian accent, "I need you to double check these charts for me. If we're going to do this today, we need it to be perfect."
Wilson scurries over and removes the datapad from her perfectly manicured hands. His eyes wash over the information, taking in every detail.
He has a piss-poor attitude, Miranda reflects, but his work is solid.
He looks at her with a gleam in his grey eyes. "Operative Lawson, today is the day. We're not going to get numbers better than this."
She looks at him with a moment of hesitation. "We haven't dedicated two years and five billion credits into bringing Commander Shepard back, just to rush in and fall at the final hurdle. Run the numbers again. I'll do the physical inspection."
She walks towards the bed and removes the sheet, preparing to perform the final physical exam.
"VI, I need full body X-rays and ultrasounds," she commands to the base's computer, and two separate probes are sent out to begin the scans.
She places a hand lovingly on the commander's taut, flat stomach. This body, while not her own, may as well be. She's spent two years putting it back together from the badly charred, stiff remains that were delivered to them. She knows every inch of it, having painstakingly reconstructed it from a mixture of DNA material and cybernetics. She has watched every cell of this body multiply and grow, while simultaneously learning everything there is to know about the woman who is Commander Shepard.
Her eyes are drawn to the breasts, almost as large and as perfect as her own. It was impossible to tell how big they had originally been, as Shepard was always heavily armoured in the available vid footage. Miranda has settled on a small D, fighting all the men on the project who wanted to make them a large DD. Part of the commander's charm and presence is her sex appeal, but she still needs a well-balanced, functional body. Miranda, of all people, understands that.
Shepard's limbs are long and lean, and the two year old skin is soft and smooth. Her hair has grown to just above her shoulders in its natural brunette tones. Miranda hasn't seen the commander's eyes since the facial reconstruction was completed, but she knows that they are a dark shade of green. Shepard had been a pretty woman originally, blessed with the hereditary good looks of her mother, Admiral Hannah Shepard, and The Lazarus Project has done well to successfully restore that natural beauty.
Shepard's appearance, combined with her well documented intelligence and prowess in battle, make her the ultimate soldier. She is going to make a remarkable asset for Cerberus, as long as they get the go ahead to wake her up.
Wilson's voice interrupts Miranda's thoughts. "The numbers are perfect, Lawson. The physical exam came back clear, and the Illusive Man has given us the green light. Let's do this."
He stands up from his seat and grins. It's an eerie sight that makes the hairs on the back of Miranda's neck stand up. There's something about Wilson that is just… off, she thinks to herself, unable to place the discomfort he is causing her. Her instincts have never led her wrong, but he is too brilliant to dismiss from the project.
She retracts her hand from Shepard's body, aware of what the intimate contact looks like. Wilson would never understand Miranda's affection for the woman she's dedicated two years to. He has a wife and a family. He leaves the base every weekend, and goes back to his life. This is Miranda's life. Commander Shepard is her life.
Miranda pulls the sheet back up, covering the commander's nakedness, and reaches her hand over to Shepard's right forearm, where the small stasis chip is embedded. She gently removes it, trying to cause as little physical damage as possible. There is a small red drop of blood forming on the commander's otherwise flawless skin, and Miranda resists the urge to kiss it better.
Shepard's breathing starts to change immediately, becoming shallow and erratic. Her heavily lashed eyelids begin to flutter, and her hands start to twitch. Miranda instinctively takes Shepard's hand in her own and strokes it. Wilson gives her a sideways glance, but she ignores him. This project is her baby, and she has every right to comfort the patient however she wishes to. Shepard's heart rate is heading off the charts, and her breathing is becoming laboured. Wilson starts to run the numbers on his datapad again, a look of panic crossing his face. Miranda squeezes Shepard's hand tightly, and raises the spare hand to stroke her cheek.
Shepard's eyes finally snap open and she sits bolt upright in the bed. Wilson draws his weapon and Miranda gives him a stern look. Shepard stares at the wall for a long moment, before Miranda finally speaks.
"Do you know who you are?" she asks as gently as she can, well aware that her voice often comes across as cold and callous.
Shepard turns her eyes to Miranda, and the Cerberus operative feels the green gaze bore into her. "My name is Commander Jane Shepard, Council Spectre and Systems Alliance marine. Am I in the hospital, ma'am?"
Miranda listens to the voice carefully. She's studied hundreds of hours of vid footage of the commander. The voice sounds good; the pitch, tone and inflections are perfect. More importantly, it's completely sexy, and Miranda immediately wants to hear more.
"You're in a medical facility, Commander. Do you remember what happened?"
The commander closes her eyes and draws her eyebrows together into a frown. She's searching for the memory, but probing her brain seems to be painful.
"My ship was attacked. My pilot wouldn't evacuate, so I had to drag him out of the cockpit. I got to the escape shuttle, but then I…" she trails off, her eyes open and a look of confusion crosses her pretty features, "What happened to me?"
Miranda feels a twinge of guilt, but she's under strict orders not to overload the commander with information. "You were in an accident. You were very badly hurt. You've been in a coma."
Shepard nods slowly, and for the first time, she glances at Wilson, who is still aiming his pistol at her. She returns her eyes to Miranda. "Do your medical staff always hold your patients at gunpoint, Doctor?"
Miranda puts her hand over Wilson's gun and lowers it. He gives her a cautious glance, and she shakes her head. He frowns as he holsters it.
Shepard rolls her shoulders and looks down, scrambling to pull the sheet up over her exposed chest. She pulls the sheet out again and looks down at her breasts. Miranda feels her breath catch in her throat. I made them too big, she thinks in a panic, I should've gone with a medium C!
"Okay Doctor, what the hell is going on here? I want that pistol packing midget out of my face right now, and I want some answers, because I sure as shit didn't sanction a breast augmentation."
Miranda becomes aware of the pistol that's holstered on her hip, reassured by its weight, and her ability to use it if the need arises. "Step outside, Wilson, you're making the commander uncomfortable. We need some girl-time."
His face goes red with anger. "You can't be serious, Lawson? This project is as much mine as it is yours."
Shepard's eyes narrow as she locks them on Wilson. "You heard the lady. She wants you out, and so do I. I may not be packing heat like the two of you, but rest assured, there are a dozen different ways that I can kill a man with my bare hands. Don't test me, asshole."
Miranda smothers her smirk as Wilson's face flushes an even darker red. "Is this an order, Lawson?" he asks through gritted teeth.
"It is," she responds coolly, her eyes taking in the sight of a woman who can intimidate an armed man out of a room while fully naked.
He brushes past Miranda, deliberately bumping her shoulder on his way out. He is going to be trouble... Miranda thinks to herself, but right now, Shepard is her main priority.
Shepard's body language relaxes somewhat with him out of the room. She looks back towards Miranda. "So, Dr Lawson, is it? Care to tell me what's going on? I… have the strangest feeling…" She trails off slowly before the look of realization hits her. "I didn't survive the accident, did I?"
Miranda locks her dark blue eyes with the commander's dark green pair. She's clever, she thinks to herself, a lie will gain me nothing but her distrust.
"No, you didn't survive the crash of the Normandy, Commander. There was a pinprick tear in your suit. It's hard to say whether you suffocated or froze first, but yes, you did die."
Shepard nods slowly, her mind ticking over visibly. She's taking this remarkably well, Miranda notes with surprise.
After a long moment, Shepard speaks again. "I don't even know how any of this is possible. Was it you, Dr Lawson, who fixed me? Brought me back to life, whatever you want to call it?"
Miranda puts a comforting hand on Shepard's knee. Shepard flinches at the contact, but takes no action to remove Miranda's hand. "I headed the team that fixed you up, yes, but I'm not a doctor, I'm a scientist. And… you can call me Miranda."
Shepard's eyes transfix on Miranda's face, and she swallows hard. "Very well, Miranda. I suppose I should think of a way to thank you."
"Oh? And how would you do that?" Miranda asks, letting her fingers walk up Shepard's thigh.
Shepard is lightning fast, and snatches Miranda's explorative hand into her own, pulling the Cerberus operative closer. She puts a hand on the back of Miranda's head and closes the distance between them. Miranda has never kissed a woman before, and as Shepard's lips touch hers, she's amazed by the softness of the kiss. Shepard's lips are lush and supple as they expertly suck and caress Miranda's mouth.
Miranda has a moment of doubt, this is so unprofessional, but the thoughts are silenced as she feels Shepard's warm, wet tongue against her bottom lip. She parts her lips and lets the tongue enter her mouth, meeting her own.
Normally, she treats her first kiss with someone as a battle for dominance, always making sure her partner knows that she's the boss. But this is different. Their tongues touch and tickle each other, neither of them winning, but neither submitting. It's the kiss of equals. Shepard's mouth tastes like something sweet. Strange, considering she hasn't had anything to eat for two years… Miranda thinks to herself.
Shepard's hand lets go of Miranda's and travels to her lower back, bringing the operative's body in closer. Her other hand travels from the back of Miranda's head, to the nape of her neck, gently stroking the sensitive skin.
Miranda lets her own hands explore. Shepard has dropped the sheet, and Miranda instinctively knows what part of the woman's body to touch. She pulls the sheet away from around Shepard's waist and throws it to the ground. Shepard shivers slightly as the clinic's cool air hits her skin. Miranda puts a hand on Shepard's thigh, feeling the smoothness of the flesh, while the other hand moves up to the side of her neck. She uses light finger strokes as she makes her way down Shepard's neck and shoulder. Shepard encourages her with heavier breathing, and Miranda decides to abandon her hand's coy descent, and she forwardly cups both of Shepard's breasts in her hands. They're a little bit more than a handful, and the skin is soft, but the breasts themselves are firm and gravity defying. Shepard moans into Miranda's mouth as Miranda strokes the commander's nipples with the pads of her thumbs, before trapping the hardened buds between her thumbs and index fingers, pinching them lightly.
Miranda hasn't been intimate with anyone since her and Jacob called it off, and she is feeling the burn of her pent up frustration, her arousal becoming evident after only a few minutes of kissing and light touching. It's been even longer for Shepard, whose entire body is heating up under Miranda's touch. In one fluid motion, Shepard uses her superior strength to pull Miranda onto the bed with her, laying down on her back with Miranda on top, never once breaking their lip lock. Miranda takes her cue and opens her legs, straddling Shepard on the bed.
She breaks the contact between their mouths and sits up. The commander looks up at her with those deeply green eyes, full of lust and desire. Miranda gives the commander a small smirk, before reaching for the zip of her catsuit. She unzips it slowly, reveling in the look on Shepard's face. The commander's pupils dilate and she unconsciously licks her lower lip as she watches the Cerberus operative undress herself, undoing her clothing at an excruciatingly slow pace. Miranda pulls the zipper down to her waist, exposing her black push up bra.
Shepard props herself up and takes both breasts in her hands, kissing the exposed flesh of Miranda's neckline. Miranda feels Shepard's tongue run its way along her collarbone, and lets out a throaty moan as the soldier's soft lips work their magic on the sensitive skin of her breasts. She feels Shepard's hands move positions, as the commander slips them around Miranda's back and undoes her bra with a small, nimble movement of her fingers.
"Mmm, you're good with your hands" Miranda whispers in Shepard's ear.
Shepard gives her a small, sly smile. "You haven't see what I can do with my mouth yet."
Miranda arches her back as Shepard draws one of her nipples into her warm mouth and massages it with her tongue. She uses her hands to pull the sleeves of Miranda's body suit down, exposing more flawless, alabaster skin. Her light touches on the newly uncovered skin cause goosebumps to form on the flesh. She runs her hands up and down Miranda's arms, and then down her back, cupping her ample backside in each hand. Again, she uses her superior strength to lift Miranda up to reposition her, this time with Miranda lying on her back, with Shepard between her legs.
Shepard kisses and nibbles her way down Miranda's incredible body as her hands slowly pull the rest of the catsuit down. She slips Miranda's thigh-high black boots off, and brings the catsuit off in a similar fashion, leaving the Cerberus operative lying on her back in nothing but a black thong.
Why am I doing this? Miranda asks herself as Shepard licks her way up Miranda's smooth, shapely legs. The boys in security will be having a field day with this footage. Not to mention what the Illusive Man is going to say when he finds out. Why don't I care about these things? Shepard hooks her index and middle finger into Miranda's pantyline and impatiently rips the fabric, pulling the black thong off and dumping it on the ground to join the white and black Cerberus uniform.
Shepard hovers above her, and Miranda can feel Shepard's warm breath moving between her legs. Miranda is trembling with excitement as Shepard's lips touch against her throbbing womanhood. Her mouth is soft and warm as it slowly parts the veil, making Miranda's legs shudder with the sensation. She strokes and licks the fleshy edges with her talented tongue, and Miranda can do nothing else but grip the sides of the bed and try not to moan too loudly. With one last sultry glance at Miranda's face, Shepard plunges her tongue in and instantly finds Miranda's pleasure point.
Miranda cries out uncontrollably as Shepard works her tongue in circular motions, drawing out the sensations at a torturously slow pace, as Miranda arches her back and grinds her hips against the bed. Shepard uses one of her hands and tickles the inside of Miranda's thigh, slowly making its way up to meet with her mouth. She slips one finger inside Miranda and instantly hits that blessed spot that so many men before her have failed to find. Miranda is not even bothering with stifling her moans and cries as Shepard's mouth and index finger work in perfect harmony.
Shepard picks up the pace, using her tongue and lips in a mixture of licking and gentle sucking motions. Miranda grabs the back of Shepard's head and pulls her in even closer, maximising the amount of contact and pressure between Shepard's mouth and Miranda's radiating core. She rocks her hips back and forth against Shepard's face, as Shepard slips a second finger into Miranda's hungering wetness.
Shepard is the best lover she's ever experienced. Nobody has managed to pleasure her quite like this before. How does she know? Miranda thinks frantically, How does she know exactly what to do? It's like she's inside my brain. Shepard slips a third slender finger inside, and uses her free hand to caress and massage Miranda's right breast. Shepard pumps the fingers vigorously against Miranda's inner sanctum, while her warm, wet tongue brings untold pleasure to the bundle of nerves between Miranda's thighs.
The pressure between Miranda's hips is building up to the point that she can no longer control her body. Her legs are clenched, her toes are curled and her knuckles are white from their grip on the bed. Miranda is quivering and shaking from the inside out, the climax looming upon her, so close…
"Oh God Shepard, yes, yes, YES!" she screams breathlessly as the most intense orgasm of her life is about to explode.
Suddenly, Shepard removes her mouth. "Mmm… Operative Lawson…" she murmurs.
"Call me Miranda, just keep going!" Miranda cries out, as the loss of sensation is almost painful.
"Operative Lawson," Shepard says again, her voice louder this time.
Miranda moves her hips upwards and tries to push Shepard's face back down, to no avail. "Oh God Shepard, please don't stop!"
Shepard removes her fingers and props herself up on her elbows. "Operative Lawson."
Miranda sits up angrily. The orgasm begins to recede like lava in her loins, her blood pumps furiously around her body and her breath drags raggedly in and out of her chest. "Bloody hell, Shepard! What is so important that it couldn't wait another 30 seconds?"
"Operative Lawson."
She jumps off the bed and stands up naked, her knees feeling weak. "Stop saying that damn it!"
"Operative Lawson, Operative Lawson, Operative Lawson…"
"OPERATIVE LAWSON!"
Miranda opens her eyes and sits up with a start. Her blankets are wrapped around her, and she's covered in a fine layer of sweat. She can feel the throbbing between her legs, and when she puts her finger between the crevice, she finds it slippery and wet. Her heart is still thumping in her chest as she looks at the time on the display. 7:34am. She's slept in.
"Sorry EDI, I must have been having a bad dream," she answers, her voice thick from sleep.
"Negative. The pitch of your moans was not in line with a human being's fear response. Furthermore, biometric scans indicated that four out of five of your erogenous zones were experiencing a temperature influx. It is 99.6% probable that your dream was of a sexually arousing nature."
"Must you be so bloody nosy all the time EDI?" Miranda asks in irritation, as she runs a hand through her shoulder length, raven hair.
"Apologies if I have caused offense, Operative Lawson, I was simply correcting the error in your statement."
"Well… just don't do any body scans while I'm sleeping. Is that clear?"
"Understood. Should I also delete the voice recordings of you repeating Commander Shepard's name?"
Miranda's eyes bulge. Bloody AIs… "Yes, delete everything. Immediately! No recordings of any description are to be done in my cabin."
"Affirmative. I will rewrite my programming to reflect your request."
Miranda swings her legs over the side of her bed and feels the cool tiles under her bare feet. She needs a shower. A cold one. She crosses her room in her underwear and tank top. "Was there a reason you woke me, EDI? The commander doesn't hold the debriefs until 9am."
"Yes. Commander Shepard instructed me to alert you that our ETA for Omega is in 45 minutes."
Miranda nods her head as that sobering thought helps to quench the fire between her legs. "Okay, thank you EDI. Let her know that I'll meet her on the bridge in half an hour."
"Yes, Operative Lawson."
The flowing water of her shower helps to clear her head and rinse the remnants of that dream out of her mind, and she dresses hurriedly. She leaves her cabin quickly, hearing the satisfying click of her high heels along the tiled flooring.
There are crew members eating their breakfasts in the mess hall, and they do little to hide the way they stare at her. By 34 years old, Miranda is used to having the gaze of admiring men upon her. That is why her father had her created to look such a way, after all. She ignores the eyes following her as she heads to the elevator.
The mechanical ring resonates in her ears as she presses the button. It doesn't open immediately, which means that it's on another floor. She taps her foot impatiently. They are less than twenty minutes from Omega now, and she needs to make sure that everything is set for their arrival. There can be no mistakes on a mission this big, and the salarian doctor is their best chance at getting some answers.
The elevator door hisses open, and Miranda is frozen in place as her eyes fall upon its inhabitant.
"Good morning, Miss Lawson," Commander Shepard says with a welcoming smile.
Miranda feels a pang of arousal hit her between the legs as the sensory memory of her dream comes flooding back into her mind. She feels herself blush lightly as she makes eye contact with the commander.
I really did do a great job on her smile, the unwelcome thought pops into her head.
"Good morning, Commander. And please, call me Miranda…"