Sand. Warm sand between her toes. She'd forgotten what it felt like and it was glorious. So was the sun on her back, the salt in the air and the sound of the waves; all doing their bit to unwind the tension in her shoulders. She'd never really taken a vacation before, oddly enough. Between her father, then Cerberus, then her father again followed by the war, there was very little time to appreciate anything but momentary success. Life hadn't slowed much after the war either, what with Shepard's third bloody coming, and Miranda's new stint as a Shadow Broker was no slouch in the competition.
She'd blinked and a year and a half was gone without stepping foot off the Icarus, her relative seclusion only broken by visits from Jack and a couple of days away for Shepard and Liara's wedding. Another year disappeared after the relay network was completely restored and the Icarus was refitted with the best tech they'd gleaned from the data cache; quickly followed by the relocation of that most valuable treasure in the galaxy to the center of it, an unforgiving, virtually uninhabitable place that defied every sensor ever created.
Now finally, six months later, the carefully constructed lattice of agents woven across the galaxy knew their jobs and how to communicate properly without getting caught, were able to be paid with just as little notice and best of all, some clever AI work by Liara on Glyph automated most of the repetitive tasks. They had a redundant hierarchy of cells, modeled much after the Cerberus organization, that was flexible enough to function on its own for awhile if need be...
Which meant she now had time to walk down a lovely beach on Virmire, populated with small groups of vacationing high-rollers. Still, despite the hundreds of people around her and the lingering looks she received as she wandered, Miranda felt alone. It was a strange contrast to the connection she felt to the rest of the galaxy when seated at the broker console. The communication with so many people in so many places gave her a window into their worlds, a glimpse into the lives of countless others that perked both her interest and imagination. When she logged off at the end of her endurance it was to the quiet thrum of the Icarus and the growing emptiness of her own existence; at least until Jack strode in to blissfully assault it….and her.
Her sand-burned footsteps eventually led her to a quaint beach bar where she ordered a drink and checked her messages again, the last of which from her intermittent lover having only three words.
Gonna be late...
Nothing since and that was two days ago. Wasn't especially unusual for Jack of course; ever since she'd left to work on Omega her missions called her away randomly. The message she'd sent this time was really quite short, though. Something must have came up last minute. She scolded herself for worrying but did anyway.
"Now, why does a woman in one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy look like she'd rather be anywhere else but here?"
Miranda turned toward the voice on her right and found an older man gazing at her over the edge of a work tablet. His expression was curious as he set the tablet down, reaching up with the same hand to scratch the beginnings of a grey beard on his cheek.
"Why is a man in one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy working? At a bar, no less," Miranda fired back with a friendly smirk.
The man grinned crookedly and gave a nod. "Well, if you had the choice of working with a stuffy old wall as a backdrop or.." He turned and gestured widely at the panorama, "This, which would you choose?"
She took a sip of her wine before answering. "You don't find it difficult to concentrate?"
"Heh," he replied before taking a drink of his own dark liquor. "At my age I'll lose focus anyway. Might as well put a smile on my face while I'm at it."
"You live here, then?"
"Oh no, nono. Far too expensive I'm afraid. Just here on assignment. I'll be leaving in the morning."
"An assignment, here? Counting coconuts are we?" she asked archly.
The man chortled in his chest and shook his head. "No accounting for me, thank you very much. I'm here researching what happened to the Berkman boy."
Miranda blinked in mild confusion. "Berkman boy?"
"Ah, probably weren't here for that I suppose. Boating accident about two months ago. The whole family was lost but one. Tragic." The man's face illuminated, "The only survivor was a young lad named Aemon, almost three years old. Remarkable, just remarkable. He was rescued from the the wreckage after it was spotted by an air patrol."
"That's...terrible, I'm sorry to hear it," Miranda commiserated. "But why does that bring you here?"
"Well, you see," he explained as if he'd waited all day for someone to ask him that very thing, "The boy should have drowned. They found him inside the boat with only a few pockets of air. When they brought him back, the attending physician made a startling discovery!" He paused long enough to take another drink, clearly reveling in his role as storyteller. He looked around a bit conspiratorially before the grande finish. "The boy, you see….had gills."
She looked at him for a long moment. "Gills. Really. You're putting me on."
The man shook his head and slid the workpad into his hands. With a few strokes he pulled up photographs and displayed them to her proudly. "It's the strangest thing I've ever seen. We've collected all the data and samples, now we just have to figure out what happened. How it happened."
It was ridiculous. It couldn't be true, but as she slid image after image before her eyes they appeared to be authentic. "What will happen to the boy?" she asked distractedly before handing back the pad.
The gentleman shrugged, "He's perfectly healthy. Might have some social issues, of course, but he's going to live with family, so he should be fine."
"Were the parents aw.." she started, but was stopped by a notification on her Omni.
Hey, I'm at the room. Where are you?
Her fingers flew over the haptic keys.
On the beach, of course. Talking with boys.
"And there it is," the man said wistfully as he watched her. "A smile at last."
A blush crept across her cheeks at the revelation. Had she really grown so easy to read? She lifted her eyes and held out a hand. "I'm terribly rude. Miranda Lawson."
"Robert Webb," he responded with a handshake and a briefly distant gaze, "Lawson….I know that name."
She smiled again and nodded, but lowered her voice a smidge. "Let's just keep that between us for now? Vacation and all."
"Of course, of course," he agreed readily and ordered another drink.
Miranda did the same, a whiskey straight up.
Robert laughed. "Wine and whiskey? You must have quite the evening planned!"
She chuckled and sipped her wine. "It's for Jack."
"Lucky man," he said, nodding sagely.
"Would you mind sending me the results of your study here? My curiosity is piqued."
"Oh? I don't recall you being interested in genetics, though I obviously don't know you personally. May I ask what field you're working in these days?"
She shrugged and tilted her head from side to side. "Dabbling in a bit of pathology at the moment. Here's my contact information."
While their comps shared info they continued to chit-chat, but a minute later Robert looked up toward the beach and then, suddenly, returned his gaze back to his workpad. Just after, Miranda felt fingers pull her hair back from the right side of her face and then warm wet lips on her throat just beneath the jaw. Her eyes closed and she drew in a deep breath, tilting her head to give those lips more access.
She smiled widely and spoke without ever parting her eyelids. "What took you so long?"
The lips left her skin and teeth bit her earlobe before Jack's words hummed into her ear, "Work's a bitch. What can I say?"
Miranda's hand slipped behind Jack's legs and slid up loose fitting cargo pants to her naked waist while she confronted Robert's odd look. The fingers of her other hand found the highball and presented it to an eager Jack, who killed it in a swallow before putting it back on the bar.
"Jack? This is Robert. Robert, this is...Jack."
"Chatting up fossils, huh," Jack drawled, looking at the scientist. "Looks like I showed up just in time." Her expression turned predatory, "Want a threesome, baby?"
Her words set the man to scowling before Miranda intervened. "So territorial! If you're that worried about my virtue perhaps you might have arrived on the day you said you would."
Jack narrowed her eyes. "Hey, if you wanna bone him I can come back in five minutes...give you both time to get dressed and shit."
Miranda arched an eyebrow and Jack clenched her jaw. Robert used the standoff to excuse himself, and Jack helped herself to his empty barstool.
"Hard week?" Miranda asked after a moment, tight-lipped.
Jack grunted noncommittally and planted a finger by her highball where the bartender could see it.
Miranda spun on her stool to take in the waves and sighed. "No better place to let it go, then."
When Jack said nothing after downing another shot, Miranda's left hand reached out to tug Jack's stool around to face the sun-brightened beach. Her smile disarmed the dark look on the woman's face after a moment and her lover stretched, unconsciously highlighting her physique. Miranda's eyes lingered there, appreciating the gifts her tech had provided. Jack stood around 180 centimeters tall after her full body upgrade and her mass had been increased significantly with muscle for combat. All her tattoos had been replicated, of course, but new ones had been added to reflect who Jack was now, complete with ink that could light up on command in a palette-full of colors.
Not all the improvements were for Jack's benefit alone, though. Her hair fell between her shoulder blades today in a rich, dark ponytail just for Miranda. It too could act on command, letting Jack run bare and battle ready most of the time while growing that one simple pleasure for her whenever they were together. Miranda curled the ebon tail around her fingers while her nails brought goosebumps to the back of Jack's neck. That simple touch unwound the tension in the woman further, finally producing a long sigh that brought Jack's eyes to hers with something a little less than fire in them.
"No big deal," Jack said. "Damn scavengers is all. Came at us on purpose couple days back. Think Omega 4 won't kill 'em just 'cause one lucky sonofabitch brought back some booty."
Miranda shrugged matter-of-factly. "Could always let Darwin's law take care of it. Why does she even care who goes through that relay?"
Jack chuckled. "Oh no, I know that tone of voice. You know I can't talk about this shit with you."
Miranda smiled crookedly. "How do you know I don't already know all about it?"
"Easy," she replied with a frustrated glower. "You wouldn't ask. Lay off."
Lawson chuckled and winked, relenting before she got Jack all stirred up again. "Alright then, want to go for a ride? I'm sure we can find someplace less…."
"Crowded?" Jack finished for her with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "What's the fun in that? Nobody knows who you are."
When Miranda gave her most innocent look she just rolled her eyes. "What, you told him? Christ, Miri. All that work for anonymity and you let it go for a homeless geezer?"
" Not homeless," Miranda corrected her. "And I wanted his research. They don't just hand that out to random people, you know."
"Really?" Jack growled. "I thought this was supposed to be vacation."
Miranda slid her hand down to Jack's, then she stood and pulled her from her seat to stand face to face before looking into her eyes and purring, "It is vacation, I just got a little bored waiting for you." A final smile and warm kiss melted the rest of Jack's reticence and they slid their arms around one another and pulled close.
Jack whispered the closest thing to an apology she could muster. "I eh...got a lil somethin' for ya."
When Jack ground her hips against her own, she felt a pulsing bulge there that made color rise on her cheeks before she laughed out loud. " That is not little."
Jack laughed too and they looked into each other's eyes with furtive fondness before she replied, "Not cheap either. I'm definitely gettin' a turn."
Miranda's hands wandered lower to cup Jack's rear and she grinned before lazily kissing her. "Count on it."
She woke entangled in Jack's warm limbs, the sheets thrown off early in the evening to feel the sea breeze flowing through the windows. It was still dark but Miranda perceived the faint hues that heralded sunrise just the same. They'd played hard through much of the night, taking each other to their limits and sometimes...just a tad beyond. It was an odd thing, their shared sado-masochism. Sometimes, they'd found, in order to stay whole you needed to occasionally break; and in each other they'd found a safe place to explore the phenomenon to its fullest.
They'd collapsed in the wee hours, shuffling off the worries and tension that wove through their lives, and Miranda wished she could just stay still and sleep but it wasn't to be. She'd never slept well with another person in the room and likely never would; some habits were just too deeply ingrained. She lay there for awhile instead, sleepily enjoying the way their bodies fit together. Jack's hair was loose and flowing, her arm thrown over Miranda's bare chest and her face tucked under Miranda's chin. Her soft breathing was barely audible over the movement of the curtains and the surf outside but it was warm against her throat and very pleasant. If she ever needed blackmail against the mercenary she needed only reveal just how much Jack tended to cuddle when she slept.
Her workpad was pulsing slowly with a notification in night-mode from the side table and she studiously ignored it in favor of watching the curves of Jack's body take shape in the rising light. Native birds began calling as they hunted crustaceans outside. Soon the resort would begin to bustle and by extension the rest of the galaxy (she could pretend everyone out there was sleeping for just a minute, couldn't she?) but this moment was hers; sound, sensation and emotion over data, holograms and haptic interfaces.
Miranda lazily slid her fingers over the skin of Jack's shoulder and back gently, brushing cleverly arranged tattoos that once disguised nasty looking scars. Her skin was clear of those red and irritable puckers now; they were only a memory, no matter how obstinate. While full body replacement was all the rage now, Jack's desire for it continued to surprise her. She'd had logistical reasons of course, given her profession and employer, but Jack was a biotic and a damned good one. She didn't really need neuro-chem enhancement, artificial plus-grav bone lacing or the ability to see into the ultraviolet and infrared spectrum but then...you never really knew, did you? It might come in handy someday.
Still, those alterations should have been against everything Jack stood for. The woman had been sawed on for years to make her a better biotic and hated her captors for it...only to continue the process later herself. How did that work, psychologically? It was a mystery on top of all the others with which she struggled when it came to her lover. If they had more time together she might sort it out, but if Miranda was honest with herself it was really her own fault. Until she had suggested this vacation Jack had been the only one reaching out while she stayed buried in her work.
They'd fought about it on more than one occasion over the last year, each confrontation worse than the last. Jack would inevitably be offended that Miranda couldn't just drop everything and have some fun with all her money and fame. Miranda would then point out the hypocrisy of that statement..Jack's own choice of employment was just as superfluous when all she had to do was stay there with Miranda. It's not like Jack needed the money, was it, if they were together? It became such a dreadfully common argument that Miranda began to mark time by it and on one of those last nights after Jack left in a rage, when the silence had its own accusatory voice, she realized something needed to change...or Jack might eventually decide not to return.
She'd gotten angry then. How could Jack not understand why being a Shadow Broker deserved her attention? She was shaping galactic events every single day! No matter how many people Jack could kill she'd never have that effect, could never know the responsibility that came with such power. How could she turn her back on such a task for frivolity? And yet at the same time she could see how callous the thought process was, how demeaning it was to the partner upon whom she'd slowly and steadily come to rely on like oxygen.
She couldn't remember just when it had happened, this codependency she'd previously and publicly ridiculed; but in the rare moments when she lifted her gaze from her work there was only one face she longed to see. Those flashing eyes, that smokey voice, the feeling of rough and tattooed hands upon her body; Jacqueline Nought was dangerous and unpredictable….and everything she craved. She was the opposite of the order Miranda so carefully constructed around herself; a glimpse at the beating heart of the universe she spent so much time tending and a reminder of the horrible, terrifying war that nearly ended all of it. They'd both earned a reprieve without a doubt; but instead of Jack abandoning her for whatever pleasures could be had in the lawless kingdom of Omega she kept coming back to the Icarus again and again. For her. When the realization crystallized she'd arranged their vacation...a tardy apology and an attempt to mend the crumbling bridge between therm.
Jack stirred in her arms, breath hitching as she drew closer to wakefulness, so Miranda shifted slightly and held her closer while she rose from those inky depths. From time to time she still woke in a sweat with one of her student's names on her lips, a hell she never quite escaped despite her well-worn nonchalance; but being warm and held soothed it away better than questions or concern in Miranda's experience. It was, now that she thought about it, likely the reason for Jack's constant state of 'upgrade'...a poisonous need to never fail again. Holding her while she slept was the one thing she could do for Jack that the woman couldn't stubbornly resist or argue against, something that found its way to the core she so jealously guarded from everyone. Fortunately this had been one of her better nights; she heard a luxurious yawn in her ear instead of a choked whisper. Miranda pulled free to lie face to face with her while Jack rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Morning," she said with a quiet smile.
"Hey you," Jack mumbled, reaching over to pull a lock of untamed hair behind Miranda's ear. "Surprised you're still in bed."
"Mmn," she replied, "I get little enough time with you, as is."
Jack chuckled deep in her chest. "Gettin' soft on me?"
"After last night's performance?" Miranda asked, bringing a laugh from Jack. "Consider me hopeless."
"Thought you might like that," Jack purred. "You sore?"
Miranda pursed her lips and shook her head. "You?"
"Nope."
"Round two?" Miranda breathed hopefully before nipping Jack's bottom lip.
"Absofuckinglutely," Jack replied, then when her stomach growled obscenely she added, "After breakfast."
"Deal," Miranda agreed with a grin before untangling herself and sliding off the bed. She bent down and picked up a long length of leather whip from the floor, coiling it expertly in her hands before turning with an arched, questioning brow. It was met with a slow nod, Jack's eyes already darkening with need, so she set it on the side table rather than putting it away.
"Rough week indeed," she said thoughtfully while moving to the en suite. Jack predictably didn't respond, so she turned on the water to heat and pulled her hair into a top-bun. "Why don't you order us some food?" She turned again, feeling Jack's eyes upon her from where she lay. At her silent regard she sighed, "Right...fine, anything you want." Jack grinned like a kid and Miranda shook her head. "Some protein at least!"
"No problem," Jack said, waving with her hand to bring up the holoserv.
"Jack..." Miranda whispered loudly, alarmed at the sight of what would be visible to the clerk, then raised her voice further when she didn't answer. "Jack! Clothes for shit's sake!"
Jack only licked her lips naughtily as the holo screen materialized. She gave her the finger while she ordered everything wrong by dietary standards, too, until Miranda gave up and stepped into the shower.
The stuttering from the desk clerk was charming and Jack was clearly reveling in it, at least until they both heard the tell-tale sound of ordnance flying. They both hit the ground simultaneously, Jack cursing all the while. The nearby explosion was deafening, a deep bass shaking the foundations of every structure around them. They were scrambling for clothing in an instant and crouching down behind the bed to check weapons in the next.
"What the hell?" Jack cried derisively at the holoserv, "What's going on?"
"I...don't...please hold!" came the return voice, gunfire audible over the link before it went dead.
Jack looked at Miranda, whose eyes were glazed in frantic calculation. "Tell me you got something, Cheerleader."
"Not much," she replied quickly, scouring her memory before peering out the window at two armed shuttles making a line for their building. "Most likely Marauders looking for a quick score. They've been pissed since this place went straight...and made a profit."
Jack snickered and she holstered her sidearm demonstrably. "Raiders? Okay then, whattaya wanna do? Have a shuttle nearby?"
Frustration filled her. The very first time they'd had time to themselves in years was about to be cut short by at worst a hostage situation and at best the constabulary and endless interviews. The Alahanku resort was bankrolled by an investment conglomerate eager to recoup their losses from the war and determined to protect it from the lawless organizations that previously held so much sway in the Traverse. That meant they had security forces, a lot of them, but that wasn't the issue. Those troops would be forced to fight right among the guests they needed to protect and that seldom ended well for the customer. No, if this was to be handled expediently, the resort needed assistance. Biotic assistance.
Miranda shook her head, cocked her own weapon, then turned to look into Jack's eyes. "Screw the shuttle."
Jack's mouth hung agape for a moment, shut, then opened again, "Are...you saying what I think you're saying?"
They looked at each other for a long moment before they both laughed. Miranda threw her wet hair back over her shoulder. "I've been pent up for a bloody year. I'm not about to cut my vacation short while the local yahoos get this sorted."
Jack caught on quick. "Could take days."
"We'd have to rebook and reschedule," Miranda agreed.
"And I guess it doesn't matter if we're on the news because everyone pretty much knows we're here now anyway," Jack said with a accusatory smirk.
It was pointless to argue that Webb was about as likely to reveal her presence here as sprout another head, so Miranda shrugged and fired right back. "Well, your naked chest is pretty much a dead giveaway, isn't it?"
Jack's smirk grew and she chuckled, sliding a hand behind Miri's head to pull her close for a bruising kiss. Once parted, she grinned and whispered, "Love you."
Miranda smiled back and nuzzled her nose, "You, too."
The objective was relatively simple for a biotic team of their calibre. All they had to do was gauge the enemy's strength, then engage and push them off the beach and into the dunes behind the resort where the corp's militia could contain or eliminate them with less collateral damage. The corp was still almost certain to shut the place down but Miranda suspected that management's gratitude for a little assistance might play in their favor.
They got back to their room several hours later with lacerations, burns and bruising but also an upgrade to the penthouse of one of the undamaged towers and a comped receipt for their stay. There'd still been casualties but numerous holovids taken of the fighting showed the pair of them to be deadly but precise; a textbook display of martial prowess focused on saving lives. It wasn't long after those vids spread far and wide that they were identified as part of Shepard's Intrepid Few, and that's when the requests for photos and autographs began. Jack in particular drew attention with her unique look and seemed to settle into the unfamiliar role of hero with surprised pleasure for much of the afternoon.
Miranda chuckled after shutting the door to their rooms later. "Well that was...something."
Jack began stripping off her dirty clothes, leaving a trail toward the shower. "Was fun! Definitely didn't think we'd be revisiting the old days like that ."
Miranda smiled thoughtfully, her memories vivid. "Yeah, it felt good to sort of stretch again, didn't it? You were amazing, by the way."
Jack stopped and turned at the compliment. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "Seriously. That was just about the finest fighting I think I've seen from you. You were disciplined when required and a hellcat when it wasn't. Don't know what Aria's teaching you up there but whatever it is, don't stop."
Jack said nothing, just smiled quietly and dropped her gaze.
"Wait," Miranda said with a wry grin. "Are you blushing just now?"
At once the look was gone, Jack's eyes flashing with her usual disdain. "Nah, just threw up in my mouth a little," she declared before stepping into the shower.
"Mmmnhmm," she murmured in amusement before pouring herself a drink and sitting down to look out at the ocean. There before her on the table was her workpad, still patiently flashing. They were fairly dying of hunger and wanted to head up the coast for a meal but she had a few moments. Miranda relented and pulled it to her lap to have a look before cleaning up.
Along with a host of communiques was the data Dr. Webb had promised. She swiped her fingers across pages and pages of information, skimming them briefly before she narrowed in on the blood work. He was a healthy boy, exceptionally so. There was nothing to indicate any aberration here, so she skipped over to the DNA report for a quick look as Jack was already coming out of the bathroom.
"All yours," Jack said, running a comb through her hair and heading to her backpack. She managed to finish dressing before she realized Miranda hadn't moved, then snapped her fingers in the air to get her attention. "Miri? You're gonna shower, right? We prolly need to get going unless you wanna crack heads for a table."
But Miranda couldn't breathe. Her eyes and fingers double, triple checked what she was seeing, ignoring Jack's questioning looks for the moment. She'd been warned, had kept watch so long for this possibility it seemed a phantom of her imagination...but here it was. She looked up at Jack sadly, a universe of inexplicable, unpredictable dread opening up beneath her feet. She felt her eyes actually begin to well with sodding tears before she shut down her emotions with all the fury of her former Cerberus self.
Jack must have seen the emotion transform her because it was echoed in her own expression.
"What's wrong?" she asked in a voice that was suddenly spurious.
"Nothing," Miranda replied with all the warmth of an ice storm. "Looks like I'm going to need to head back anyway."
"Like fuck," Jack growled after a moment of stormcloud rage.
Miranda stood and locked eyes with her, "I can't do this now, okay?
"Then when?" she yelled, her arms thrown wide and skin already glowing blue. "You can't keep doing this forever!"
"Jack!" Miranda shouted in return then lowered her voice, her hands encouraging calm. "Just trust me, alright? This is really important."
"It's always important!" she shouted, hands on her hips. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, trying to keep her cool. "Fine. Tell me what's going on."
Miranda still clung to the hope she was mistaken and couldn't risk panicking Jack. Hell, she couldn't risk panicking anyone. She needed to figure this out and come back with facts rather than supposition. Miranda sighed and softly shook her head, then watched the emotions play across Jack's face; anger first, then for a brief moment most might have missed, sadness. When the indifference settled in, Miranda knew it was over.
"You know what?" Jack snarled, "Do what you gotta do. If you ever decide to wake up you know where to find me." She walked around the room snatching up her things and shoving them in her backpack, swearing angrily under her breath all the while.
"Jack," Miranda protested guiltily, digging her fingernails into her palms. "Jack, please, I just need a little time."
Jack slung the pack over a shoulder and straightened with a scathing smirk, "You got all the time you need. Just don't come back 'til you're actually finished with this shit, though. I'm done."
Her brow furrowed. "Wait a minute, you can't actually expect me to quit ."
Jack paused after opening the door and looked back at her sincerely, "No. I actually don't."
Then she was gone, the door not quite shutting on her way out.