Disclaimer: The Mass Effect Universe and everything in it belongs to BioWare. I only lay claim to London and Teagan.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has subscribed, added to favorites, and written reviews! Also, thanks out to zebrahater for the beta reading.

I'm really very proud of this chapter.

[Chapter Twenty-Three: Search and Rescue]

[Planet Watson/ 24 hours after Cavan's Death/6:30PM]

Jack, Miranda, Garrus, and Shepard made their way down the narrow path and through the thick woods towards where Liara's information indicated that Shaw C. Riley had found London. The sky was already darkening and John knew they had to pick up their pace. They had been off their time of arrival by nearly an hour due to the very tall, thick plant life that inhibited majority of this specific latitude. There was just no room to land the shuttle any closer, so they had been forced to walk the rest of the way.

"Shepard, I think it's time you purchased a sky car for the Normandy. We would've been able to squeeze right through those thick branches and land near the structure in no time." Garrus suggested aloud.

Miranda puffed air out from her lips in amusement, "Because nothing says 'stealthy' like a big, family sized sky car landing by the front door."

John measured the Turians request before smiling wickedly, "Let me just take that out of your payroll and I'll get right on it. Thanks for being so kind, Garrus!"

"Wait, wait, and wait. I didn't mean—"

"Oh I know what you meant, and I just have to say you are such the sweetheart for offering. As soon as we get back onboard the Normandy I'll have Kelly start the transaction for the car. Do you have a color you'd prefer?" John asked.

"How about flaming asshole red? Ya know, ta' match the driver's personality." Jack said through a surprisingly mirthful grin while checking the status on her shotgun 'Dirty Willy'.

"I wasn't aware that you'd be the one driving the vehicle, Jack." Miranda commented casually as she observed the surround forest.

The ex-convict clicked her tongue in annoyance before cocking her shotgun and aiming it at Miranda's ass. "Ahyahaha—aha!" Shepard blurted out, stepping in front his girlfriend's aim, "All in good fun—isn't that right, Lawson?"

Miranda didn't reply as she marched towards their destination with unbound determination. "We better pick up the pace, Shepard. It's already getting darker and I really don't want to be stuck outside for extended periods of time when night falls completely. I've done the research; this area gets particularly cold beyond a certain hour."

John raised a brow as he caught up to her pace, "How cold?"

Miranda continued on her way, her expression neutral as she flatly replied, "Cold."

"Then you should feel right at home, Ice Queen." Jack verbalized.

Miranda glared and opened her mouth to retaliate but John waved his hand to silence the two women, "Give it a rest you two before I keep us out here on purpose and force the both of you to hug to keep warm."

Both women scoffed at the same time.

"Hey," Garrus nodded his head towards the upcoming structure and reached around to take hold of his sniping rifle, "Shepard, house up ahead— two o'clock."

John raised his fist to halt and quiet his small troupe, "Garrus, you're my eyes on the outside. Make your way through the woods and around the house from the right. I need you to stay vigilant and report any signs of movement or incomings. Watch all exits—no one else besides this team goes in or out. Got it? You see someone, you let me know. Move into position and give the signal when you're ready."

"Can do, Shepard." He simply said, separating from the group and moving quietly through the plant life to take a vantage point. When he found a suitable position, Garrus lay on the flat of his stomach and pressed his eye against the scope of his sniper rifle. "I'm in position. There is no movement in the general vicinity of the structure and nothing seems out of the ordinary. The lights inside are off though and I can't see anything through the windows."

Miranda turned to face the commander, "And this is the correct location of the mercenary's target?"

John nodded, bringing up the visual from his omni-tool and enlarging the map. "According to this it's right: Twenty-seven point three degrees north-equatorials, Savnah region, 51 degrees 30 minutes north, and 0 degrees 4 minutes west. Assuming the GPS coordinates are correct, this is the exact place the merc was looking for. We're in the right spot."

Lawson tilted her head a little as she examined the map in detail, "I suppose we are here, aren't we."

Jack looked at the small, run down structure and raised a brow, "And where the fuck is 'here' anyways?"

"That's what we're about to find out, Jack." Shepard said as he took the sheathed assault rifle from his lower back, watching as it expanded in his hands with the faint, familiar whirring sound. "Get your weapons out and let's move up. I'll take the center; Miranda I want you to take the right, Jack take left." Both women nodded in unison as the three made their way up towards the front entrance. Shepard kneeled down a few feet from the door and aimed his sights at its center, his voice whisper silent as he spoke into his communications system, "Garrus, we all clear?"

"As far as I can see everything still looks quiet, Shepard."

"Lawson, open the door—quietly."

Miranda nodded her head as she placed a steady hand on the doors handle, pushing the button down softly which in turn opened the entrance. "Clear," the commander said silently but keeping his low ground, "What do you see, Jack?"

Jack brought her eyes around the door's frame and looked into the dark, still living room. The biotic could make out several silhouettes of what appeared to be motionless bodies, "Shepard, its dark—real dark, but I think we got people on the ground. They ain't moving."

"Garrus make your way around the back and head in through the rear." John stood and made his way towards the doors entrance, flipping on his helmets night vision as he noiselessly walked through the frame with his rifle gripped tightly and his trigger finger ready.

Communications stayed out until John finally broke the silence with a single, soft word. "…shit…" he said, witnessing the small disaster and carnage spread all around the house's living room floor. John moved his eyes along the length of each wall, finally finding the light switch to the room and heading over to flick it up and on. Shepard clenched his jaw and brought a closed fist to his mouth upon seeing the frozen, horror stricken face of the child who had been shot in cold blood, and the adult woman who lay sprawled beside him. Quietly he walked up to the pair and reached a gloved hand over each pair of eyes, pulling ever so tenderly at the lids until they were shut. "Jack, Lawson— move in."

Miranda and Jack did as ordered, stopping momentarily to view what their commander was hunched over. Both women developed deep creases that etched into their foreheads and furrowed their brows. "They shot a kid, Shepard?" Jack asked with a voice softer than usual.

"Yeah, Jack" he replied desolately, "they shot a kid."

Lawson forced her eyes to move around the surrounding area until they fell on what appeared to be a man dressed as a mercenary and the slender frame of a familiar female whose long, chestnut colored hair was caked in blood; her tank top so drenched that Miranda couldn't help but think that the blood had belonged to the young, gray eyed woman. "…Shepard, its London…" she said quickly as she ran up towards the limp body and kneeled beside it, her hands cupping the sniper's face and forcing it to face her own, "London?" she asked firmly as she slid her index and middle finger down the brunette's neck and onto her pulse point.

John turned his attention towards his XO and immediately jogged over, soon leaning down beside Miranda but using his hands to check on the man beside London's body as he spoke, "How's she doing? Is she alive?"

Miranda turned her gaze towards him, her voice expressing hints of relief and joy, "She's unconscious but alive, Commander. Her pulse is steady."

"It's all clear, Shepard." Garrus said entering the living room only to halt at the door and look down on the sniper, "Aw damn. She alright?"

John nodded, "She's alive. This guy however," he motioned towards the limp body of Cavan, "isn't so lucky. I'm thinking this is our merc."

Garrus kneeled down beside the Irish man's body and unbuckled the man's shoulder guards then proceeded to rip the sleeve off the t-shirt beneath. "You're right. He's a Sun. He still has the mark on his shoulder. Usually when they take a mission of this nature they acid wash the marking off so they can't be identified as part of the group. But I'm guessing this guy was either extremely cocky or just truly believed he wouldn't be dying today. He didn't take the time to burn it off his skin."

John shook his head, "So much for getting to capture and question him."

The Turian shrugged his shoulders, "We still have another merc out there, Shepard. We'll get em'."

"Hey Shepard," Jack called out from behind the gathered group, "I found somethin'. Is this the terminal you were lookin' for before the stripper left?" she asked, holding the small PT up for the commander to behold.

"Her name is London, Jack. So be appropriate for once in your life and use her name." Miranda defended.

"What the hell does it matter to you what I—"

"At ease you two. We're here to do a job so let's get it done." John lifted his sights from Cavan's mark and back towards Jack, "That might be the PT. Open it up and check it out." he ordered as he looked back down on the body in front of him, "Let's look at this guy's omni-tool."

Garrus looked up, "Shepard, just take the thing. He's not going to need it anymore. We can transfer the data back on the Normandy and have Tali or Legion take a look at it incase upon intrusion the files attempt to delete themselves, or become encrypted. We might need someone who can prevent those things from happening."

John sighed, "And what makes you think I can't do it?"

"Because," the Turian said with more amusement than insult, "you have the tech skills of a two year old."

Miranda scanned over London's body, biting her lower lip harshly when she noticed the torn material in between the woman's legs. "And Commander, we have to get London out of here and back aboard the Normandy. She's exhausted, dehydrated, and has several unattended gashes that need treatment lest they get infected. We need to do a scan to make sure nothing else is wrong."

John thought quietly as he weighed out his options, "Alright. Jack, pack up that PT. Garrus, take the omni-tool and search his body for anything else useful before we go. Lawson, get London's belongings together." Miranda nodded firmly once before instantly standing to find the young brunette's backpack.

Jack raised a brow, "And what the hell are you going to do?"

John chuckled as he reached underneath the trim figure of London and lifted her up easily with the strong muscles of his thighs and calves, "I'll take the heavier load."

Garrus grinned, "You just wanna touch her."

The small sting of a tiny biotic ball hit the Turian smack in the back of head, causing him to turn around and eyeball the tattooed offender, "I was kidding, geesh!"

"…careful or Shepard might end up having to carry two bodies back," she warned with a scary but playful grin on her lips that made Garrus cringe.

"Oh please God no," Shepard cried out, "If I have to carry Garrus' fat ass we'll be walking back for days."

The Turian waved off the terrible joke then proceeded to nod his head over in the direction of the dead child and mother, "…what do we do about them, Shepard?"

John adjusted his hold on London and took a moment to gather his thoughts and make a decision, "We're going to have to leave them. Right now the priority is getting all this information back to the ship and making sure London is taken care of. When both are delivered we'll see if we can come back t—" Shepard suddenly stopped upon noticing the sudden, slight shift of weight in his arms.

"You were saying?" Garrus asked questioningly.

"She moved," John replied quickly, carefully placing the brunette down on the nearby couch. "Garrus, go get Miranda. London," he asked softly, placing calloused fingertips over her forearm, "London, are you with us?"

Jack took a few steps forward to glance over the sniper, "She's not a fuckin' ghost haunting the room, Shepard. Of course she's with us. Smack her around a little, that'll wake her up."

John groaned at Jack's antics as he patted London's cheek gently, "Hey. London, its John Shepard. Can you hear me?"

A smile came to his face when he heard the soft exhale that left London's now slightly parted lips. He watched as London swallowed the dryness in her throat and peeled her closed eyelids open halfway, and then gradually blink them open into a full gaze. But Shepard tilted his head to the side when he noticed something was off about the way she was looking at him. Partly because she seemed to be looking at his chin and because her look was uncharacteristically empty. Every time he had held a conversation with the woman he had noticed a certain spark in her eyes—smart and confidant, like she was always thinking and planning ahead. "Shepard?" she asked softly, confused as her shaky hand weakly lifted up and reached out the feel for his form. John leaned away from her hands, his eyebrow raised as her slender fingers connected with the top of his shoulder and onto the cool surface of his armor. "Is that really you?" she asked again, her voice faltering as it lowered itself to a hush.

Lawson had moved quickly into the room as John nodded his head, "Yeah it's us."

Miranda couldn't speak. The XO knew she should have let the brunette know of her presence, but she couldn't bring herself to let herself be known. Several emotions were pumping through her body: guilt because they weren't fast enough, anger because London's was hurt, joy because London was alive, and fear because she couldn't figure what the sniper would do next.

"Us?" the sniper responded with hesitation, her eyes never moving from Shepard's chin. "Who else is here?"

Jack crossed her arms underneath her breasts and cocked her hip to the side, her voice confused and curious, "What the hell, London? We're right fuckin' here."

London brought her hand down from the Commander's shoulder, her lower lip quivering for a moment before she brought her face down to face the floor, "Jack?"

"Uh…yeah?"

"I'm sorry...I'm not trying to be rude. I just…can't see you."

John's eyes widened as he lifted London's chin up to look into her eyes. He brought his index finger and slowly moved it from side to side in front of the woman's face in hopes that London's gaze would follow it. Her eyes never moved. "What happened?" he asked softly, the realization of her blindness hitting him and his team like a sack of bricks. He then noticed he'd never seen London as vulnerable as she was now. She looked pained, heartbroken, terrified, and alone.

London spoke again quietly, her eyes furrowing in grief, "…I'm so happy you're here."

"London," Shepard tried again, his voice softer. "What happened?"

"I tried to stop him," she whispered softly, "…I… he…the kid…he shot the kid," Her voice became breathy and choked, "I tried. I tried so hard to keep him busy with m-me…but…Cavan…heartless…he had no heart. No conscious."

"It's alright," John soothed as he took her firmly by the shoulders, "Listen to me, and listen to me carefully. You did everything you could, London. What happened here was not your fault."

The brunette shook her head and tried her best to look into the commander's eyes. John's heart broke when she ended up looking over his shoulder instead. "It is my fault, Shepard. All of this was my fault. They were living in this house peacefully before I showed up here and ruined everything for them," she said quietly, regretfully. "…and it was all for nothing. My father's terminal is missing its memory chip. I don't know where it is and I don't know where to look. These people," she gasped, "this family…they buried my parents with respect when they didn't have to. And this is how I say thanks? By getting them all killed?"

"London," Shepard said, trying to calm the upset sniper, "…you didn't know."

"I should have known!" she spat out, cursing her stupidity, "I was an idiot! I was so stupid to think that everything was okay—that Cavan wasn't dangerous. I could have seen it too; I should have been able to tell if I wasn't so distracted."

"Distracted?"

"…I felt normal, Shepard." She said softly, brokenly. "For the first time in five years…I felt normal. It was nice…sitting down for lunch and laughing over the silliest of things. Having a normal conversation…" she covered her face with the palm of her hands to keep herself from completely shattering, "…I was stupid to think that someone like me could have a chance at normalcy. And this family paid the price for it."

John was silent for a moment before he placed a hand over one of London's. "We have to get you back to the ship, there's a lot to talk about and we need to make sure you're okay. Chakwas and Mordin can check out your vision and—"

"We can't leave," she interrupted, her voice sounding frantic. "We can't leave Catalina, Frank, and Joseph here like this. They need to be buried. I owe them that much."

John shook his head and exhaled loudly, but the sniper reached out to take hold. "Please," London asked once more. "Please, Shepard."

"…Alright," he replied softly and giving in to her wish, "we'll bury them right now. It'll take a while but…we'll get it done. Garrus, Jack, help me out will ya'? Lawson, see that London is taken care of."

London heart thumped loudly in her chest, her empty eyes snapping up and anxiously looking around the room, "Miranda is here?"

The XO closed her eyes before nodding her head towards the Commander. "She's here," John reassured before turning his attention to the small pile of bodies, "Alright team, let's get to it." And with that, the crew gently took the three bodies in hand and moved them out the door in preparation for burial leaving the Australian and the sniper alone.

The pair was quiet for a while; Miranda was standing a few feet from the brunette, her hands clasped tightly in front of her tummy while London sat still, her eyes trying to desperately seek out the XO much to their failure, "Miranda? Are you there?"

Nothing happened for a few moments, but soon London could hear the soft sound of heels clicking against the ground before she felt the woman kneel before her, hearing the small thud of knees against the wooden floor and the faint, comforting aroma of lavender that usually lingered around the second in command. The sniper felt Lawson's soft hands rest on her lap when the gentle, soothing voice of the raven haired beauty finally spoke up for the first time since she had awakened, "I'm here, London."

London face saddened as she realized she could no longer look into those azure eyes that always seemed to just understand. Oh how badly she wanted to gaze over those perfect, porcelain features and reacquaint herself. Miranda, however, found a strange, selfish kind of freedom as she was allowed to finally stare at the woman without being noticed. London was truly beautiful. She had perfect skin, round, full lips that seemed to naturally pout just enough to be incredibly attractive. It was just heartbreaking that all that beauty was hidden and caked under layers of grime and blood. "I wish I could see you guys," London said, "...It'd be nice to see an actual friend right about now," she joked half heartedly.

"Here," Miranda effortlessly replied, taking the other woman's hands into her own and placing them gently onto either side of her own face. "It's not the exact same but…it's something."

London's muscles tensed as she felt the smooth skin beneath her fingertips, the bone structure of such an incredibly beautiful face. The sniper found herself biting her lip when she felt Miranda close her eyes and offer free reign to explore her features. The brunette was tender in her actions, delicate tips gliding softly over Miranda's eyebrows, the bridge of Lawson's nose, the elegance of her cheek bones, the shape of her jaw, curve of her chin, and finally the softness of her lips. London could feel the operative's breath catch when she touched the plump part of flesh and instantly withdrew her hands, "I'm sorry," she said quickly, entangling her own fingers together. Miranda slowly opened her eyes and shook her head, "You did nothing wrong."

"I must look like crap compared to you," the brunette laughed quietly to herself, running her hands over her own hair and down to feel her uncomfortable clothing. Her face contorted slightly in disgust when she realized her tank top must have been soaked with blood. The dried texture was gritty and sticky, and she could make out the smell of copper and sweat on her skin. "My tank top…is it?"

Miranda nodded and spoke out truthfully but as delicately as possible, "…it would be in your best interest to likely bathe and change while we're here, London. Shepard will be out there for a few hours, it'd be wise to take advantage of that time."

London flinched at the thought of what she was wearing, the idea of literally being bathed in blood making her nauseous. "I'd like that. Will you…lead me to the bathroom? There should be a door to the left. It's down the small hallway, first door on the right."

Miranda nodded as she stood, reaching down to take the brunette by the hand and helping her to stand up; London clasped the offered hand and held onto it firmly, her eyes finding their way towards the ground as Lawson led her into the bathroom. London fully recognized the spark between the two warm palms pressed tightly against each other. The sniper could feel how tender the operative was being with her; how careful the XO was when guiding her through doorframes or around corners. She felt how Miranda's thumb unconsciously rubbed the back of her hand in soft, soothing circles. Lawson had never been a particularly tender woman, but sometimes there were moments when her softer nature would escape; moments that seemed to present themselves more and more only when London was around. She might have been blind, but there were things that could clearly be seen without sight.

London thought quietly as she was lead; she didn't know what it was she felt for Miranda. It wasn't love, not exactly; but it was something stronger than any simple friendship could possess, and she couldn't help but wonder if in those small, delicate gestures the operative would show her that Miranda felt the same way.

The idea of two women being together was not uncommon in this day in age. Ever since humanity was introduced to the Asari race the ideas of sexuality and what was acceptable had changed drastically. Sure, there were still those that opposed the idea of same sex relationships; but the race had come so far in their ideals that London wasn't bothered at all at the thought of women being with other women. It was rather common, actually.

Miranda released London's hand only when she needed to bend over the tub and twist the two handles, making sure that the water coming out was hot but not nearly enough so to burn. London sighed softly at the loss of her but bit her lip as she waited, her hands clasped tightly together. It was endearing to the sniper that Miranda hadn't needed to be asked to prepare the bath, knowing full well that it would have been embarrassing beyond compare for an independent woman such as London. So, Miranda worked quietly and quickly making sure that all supplies would be in reach of the brunette. She placed whatever shampoo was available at the edge of the tub as well as unboxed a new bar of soap for the young woman to use at her disposal. When the XO was done she turned off the water and spun around to face the sniper, "I'll wait out—"

London shook her head as she reached out in the direction of the voice and inwardly smiled when she correctly caught hold of the XO's wrist. "…stay," she demanded gently.

"You want me to stay? Why?" Miranda questioned, her voice hesitant but not unkind.

London took a breath, swallowing her nerves and silencing her hesitant thoughts, "…do you remember what you told me on the Normandy right before I left?"

Miranda stayed hushed as she remembered lying on a stiff bed in the medical bay, wanting so desperately to reach out and clasp the sniper in her arms in any attempt to keep the woman from leaving but being unable to do so. "…I do."

"You told me that 'it's hard to say goodbye and it's even harder to be alone afterwards'. You were right. It's been lonely," the brunette confessed much to the operatives astonishment."I chose to leave after I let go of Teagan, and when I did I lost the only people that ever made me feel remotely happy in the last five years…but now you all are here again…and I don't want to see you go," she tried to explain without sharing that she felt weak for being afraid; weak for fear of being left alone in the darkness that her newly acquired blindness left her in. Allowing herself to show vulnerability was not something London found comfortable; she had lost that luxury when her parents had died five years ago. But now things were just so hectic, so fast to spin out of control that the sniper needed to find a flat surface to plant her feet on. Miranda made the world stop spinning; she made it easier to think. "So please, will you stay with me just for a while longer?" she asked, lowering her voice to a small, self-conscious whisper.

There was silence for a long moment, but London had learned during her time on the Normandy that when Miranda wasn't sure how to respond to something that she usually just chose to remain silent, or found a way to ignore the subject all together. However, London had also observed that when words wouldn't suffice, Miranda usually found another way to express what she was feeling, and when London suddenly felt the other woman kneel before her and begin working at her combat boot's laces, the sniper's heart warmed. "You don't have to do that," she said, reaching down and tensing, "Miranda, really—you don't have to do that. I can take off my boots. It might take me a moment longer but I can—"

"Lift," came the tender demand from the second in command. London blushed lightly for the first time since they had met but did as instructed. Slowly she lifted her foot so Miranda could slide her boot off and place it against the wall so they wouldn't get wet. "Now the other one," she spoke again, repeating the process until the sniper was bare of shoes and socks. London's toes twiddled against the cold floor causing the operative to smile at the cute mannerism, but that smile soon faded when her eyes trailed up towards the ripped center of London's jeans.

"…Your jeans are ripped at the center," Lawson said softly but not questioning as to why, "When you're nearly done with your bath I'll go get your pack. You brought extra clothes?"

"I did," the brunette replied, suddenly humiliated when remembering why her pants were torn in the first place; Using the merc's anger and pride, trying to get Cavan to rape her was the only way she could think of getting him to release her constraints… and the thought made her shiver as she gradually unbuttoned and unzipped her torn blue jeans.

Miranda stood and turned around to give the sniper any bit of privacy she could offer while London slowly slid the article of clothing down her legs and into disheveled heap on the floor. Lawson waited patiently, a light, uneasy puff leaving her lips at the same time as London reached down and grabbed the edge of her tank top and peeled it off up and over her head, soon throwing it into another messy pile near her jeans.

The sniper's body quivered at the feel of cool air, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra and letting her breasts free from the clothing's restrictions. Miranda crossed her arms and looked over the ceiling, toilet, and sink as she waited for the butterflies in her stomach to pass. She felt absolutely ridiculous; like a young girl in grade school fumbling over her feet as the boy she liked passed by in the hall— and the thought made her eyes roll at herself. London didn't feel much differently as she slid her panties off and bent over to reach for the tub. When she found its lip she carefully lifted her leg and maneuvered her way into its waters. At first contact with the hot liquid she released a soft hiss causing Lawson to tense, but when London soon exhaled contentedly and pressed her back against the tub's warmed surface, Miranda found herself relaxing too. "Are you in," the XO asked finally.

"You closed your eyes?" London asked with a hint of amusement and relief.

"I turned around," Miranda corrected flatly as she turned to face the sniper once more, "You're entitled to privacy."

"…Thank you," the brunette said kindly, "…for staying."

"There's no need to thank me," the blue eyed woman assured watching curiously as the sniper took in a deep breath and plunged herself underneath the water.

Lawson observed as the soft ripples played with the outline of the brunette's body, watched as her long tresses flowed effortlessly and easily out amongst the water's depths, and watched as the dirt, grime, and blood floated to the top of the clear water's surface.

When London resurfaced it was with a smile as she reached up to wipe her face of excess water, "…that felt amazing."

"Here," Miranda added casually, offering the small shampoo bottle to the sniper and tapping her softly on the shoulder with it, "Shampoo."

London crinkled her nose, "What kind?"

Lawson chuckled as she brought the bottle back to read before popping the lid open and sniffing lightly, "Sky Blossoms."

The gray eyed woman raised an eyebrow, "…and what does a sky blossom smell like, exactly?

Miranda grinned as she leaned over to place the bottle under London's nose and squeezed gently to blow soft, scented puffs of air out, "Smell. It's a faint scent, nothing fancy. What do you think?"

London smelled its contents for a moment before nodding, "It's not like I can exactly afford to be picky at this given time… but it's definitely not bad."

"It'll have to do." Miranda rolled her eyes before pouring the bottles contents into her own open palm, "Lean your head back."

London looked over in the direction of Lawson's voice uncertainly before doing as commanded and tilting her head back while closing her eyes. The XO tenderly rubbed the shampoo into the snipers wet hair, her finger tips expertly massaging the scalp beneath. London groaned happily at the other woman's touch, her hand reaching up from the water to grasp the lip of the bath tub. "That feels nice," she said quietly.

With London's eye sight in its current state Miranda felt free to watch the sniper. She didn't know why she was looking so intently, but there was something unendingly fascinating—mesmerizing even about watching London's expressions flit across her face unconstrained; Miranda unconsciously grinned. She had never realized that those delicate muscles worked together so harmoniously to display whatever emotion London was experiencing. "Okay," the operative finally managed to voice aloud, "Rinse."

London opened her vacant eyes and nodded before taking another breathe and submerging herself. Miranda watched as the sniper worked her fingers through her hair, ridding herself of all traces of shampoo before finally coming up for air. "Did I get it all?" the brunette had asked.

"You did," Miranda said through a small smirk. "And here's the bar of soap," she said placing it into the snipers grasp, "I'm going to sit against the tub with my back to you so you can finish up, alright?"

London nodded her head and began to lather the length of her arms as Miranda sat against the cool outer surface of the tub. The pair was quiet for a few moments before the operative finally asked what she'd been wanting to since the sniper had awoken from unconsciousness, "London?"

"Miranda?" the woman answered quizzically.

"…what happened to your vision?"

The brunette was silent as she lathered her legs and thighs underneath the water, "I let my guard down. I was stupid. Cavan," she said with distaste in her mouth, "the mercenary you found out there…he slipped an herb into a cup of tea he made me. I noticed that the color was slightly off, but I couldn't smell anything besides oranges—and figured the kind of tea it was played a roll in its color."

Miranda raised a brow, "Do you happen to know what kind of herb it was?"

London could only shrug, "I don't know if he was telling the truth, but I do remember him saying that it was called Blindweed."

"Blindweed?" Lawson repeated, quickly snapping her body around to face the other woman. London jumped and dropped the soap into the water when she suddenly felt Miranda's hand cupping her face, "…um…?"

Lawson was quiet as she examined the gray eyes closer in a more medical manner, her eyes squinting slightly and head tilting to the side as if trying to look for something. The brunette's heart sped up as she felt the space between them close, now being able to just feel the XO's sweet breath tickle her own lips. It was intoxicating… and before she could help herself, London found her eyes dreamily fluttering closed as her head began to tilt and lean in. Miranda, who was in full blown examination mode and completely oblivious, gave out a little grunt as she tightened her hold on the woman's cheeks to keep her still, "Don't move for a second, and open your eyes. When did you drink the tea?"

London's eyes widened with embarrassment as she quickly did as instructed. "Two day ago exactly," she managed to say smoothly enough, "Why?"

Miranda smiled, "Does this sting?" she asked, pressing lightly at the flesh beneath London's lower eyelids. The sniper winced, her eyes watering as she nodded. "It does, yes."

"That's a good sign," the XO said, "Blindweed is curable if treated within sixty-one hours of exposure."

The sniper shook her head in disbelief, "Really? How can you be sure? How do you even know?"

"I'm familiar with the herb. It's popular amongst the mercenaries hired by Cerberus to transfer targets. Mercenaries take their target's sight so the location they're being taken to remains unknown. It's rather extreme if you ask me—but it gets the job done far better than a simple blind fold. It temporarily blinds then eventually renders the consumer unconscious, making them easy to handle during the transport. You can crush it into a fine powder and add it to liquids or food with little to no difference in taste, texture, or smell."

"…so…it can be reversed? I'll be able to see again?"

Lawson nodded, releasing her grasp of London and standing up quickly, "If treated, yes. I'll bring your clothing in now then I need to step out and contact Chakwas to have the eye-drops and pills prepared for when we arrive back on the Normandy. I do believe the medical bay has all the supplies necessary."

London closed her eyes and smiled happy as she sunk deeper into the hot water, "thank—"

"You can thank me later," Miranda interrupted quickly but affectionately, "after we actually solve the problem. Until then, finish up in here while I make the call. Have you eaten?"

The sniper was quiet for a moment before responding, "Yes."

Miranda leaned against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow, "Did you really just lie to me?"

London groaned as she submerged her head underwater and blew several large bubbles up towards the surface. Miranda smiled as she turned to exit the small bathroom, "That's what I thought."

xxxxxxx

The XO made her way quickly out of the house in search of the Commander. She could clearly hear Jack complaining loudly about only God knew what in the distance, so the small team wasn't difficult for the operative to find in the slightest. "Commander," she said professionally after closing in, "London was speaking with me about her eye sight and brought up the detail of Blindweed being used as the reason for her vision loss. It's a commonly used herb among the mercenaries hired by Cerberus. She consumed it forty eight hours ago."

John stopped his digging momentarily to look up at his second in command, "Is it curable?"

The XO nodded, "It is Commander, but it's urgent that we get her back onto the Normandy within the next thirteen hours. The herb only has a sixty one hour window to counter its affects. She needs medication and eye drops."

John nodded his head, "Have you gotten a hold of Dr. Chakwas?"

"I have, Commander. She'll be waiting for London upon arrival."

"Good. Since the area is clear I'll order in for an emergency evacuation for her. It'll still be a few hours before the shuttle lands, and we'll still have to walk a small ways to get to the clearing but we'll manage. Make sure London has all her belongings and is fit for leaving."

Miranda nodded her head before turning around and walking back towards the house, "Will do, Shepard."

"Damn it," Jack growled when the operative was out of sight, "why the hell can't the Cheerleader be out here helping us? This would go a lot faster..."

John wiped his forehead as he stuck the shovel deeply into the earth, "Aw come on, Jack! This isn't so bad; we're doing something really nice for these people. Besides, we're almost done with this one."

"…it's just too bad this one is a small one," Garrus said softly as he helped dig from the other side.

Jack huffed, "I get that—whatever, but why isn't the Cheerleader helping? I get Helen Keller over there takin' a breather and getting some time off, but what the hell has Ms. Bitchfest done today? She's done jack shit that's what."

John grinned, "Someone's got to help out London, Jack. She probably would like to get changed and take all that blood off her body and hair since this digging takes a few."

"I could do that," the biotic said honestly, "…just spray her down with a hose and shave her head. That shit is simple."

Shepard laughed, "And that's exactly why I'm keeping you and Garrus here."

"Aw what'd I do?" the confused Turian asked.

"Don't give me any of that, Vakarian. You're worse than Engineer Donnelly when it comes to that girl."

"Ahhh I'm not that bad," Garrus said as he waved Shepard off, "not nearly that bad. But in all seriousness have you seen that woman? Someone needs to bronze her father's pen—"

"Garrus," Shepard warned with a stern finger.

The Turian grinned as he continued to dig, "…I was just saying. It was a simple observation and suggestion."

"So what happens after this, Shepard?" the ex-convict asked knee deep in soil.

"After this we get London back to the Normandy and open up the mercs omni-tool. He has a partner, June Sanders who is currently staying at a high class resort on Omega. I'm hoping they've been keeping contact every other day. I want to find out what this guy is up to and who this guy is working for."

Jack scoffed, "What the hell is considered high class for Omega?"

Garrus shrugged as he spoke up to answer the question, "I wouldn't exactly say high class. It's called the Velvet Vault." When both the Commander and the biotic gave him knitted, curious eyebrows Garrus grinned, "Yep. It's as bad as it sounds. It's highly secured and very expensive. The best of the worst stay there with no care at all for authority. No cop will step a mile within that place."

"What's he doin' there?"

The Turian looked over towards the Commander to answer who in turn looked over to Jack before he began to speak, "I'm not sure. Liara just sent me some details and the layout of the place not to long ago. Some of the best mercs in the business have been checking in. It's a real Donovan Hock-esque get together if you ask me."

"And you wanna' fuckin' get in there how? Shepard, you're the poster boy for everything good. You really think we're just going to waltz in without them noticing you?"

"I don't know how we're getting in yet, but I never said it was going to be simple, Jack."

Garrus nodded his head, accepting Shepard's comment as a simple fact of their daily lives. "That is true. When has anything we've ever done been simple?"

"Look, all I'm sayin' is that do you all realize we haven't had a break from this shit in like what? Almost two months? I mean we just finished savin' the worthless piece of shit that is humanity and they still want more. We give, give, give, and they take, take, take. For once I'd like the mission to be 'Oh hey guys, I want you to go get piss drunk and rob a transport vessel carrying billions of credits'. I'd be happy to do that."

"Ah cut the crap, Jack." Garrus said with little self preservation, "everyone here knows that you're happy to be helping these biotic children by stopping this 'Buyer'. We all saw how you were with Teagan."

"Do you like where your mandibles are right now, Vakarian? Because I'd be more than happy to break one off and shove it up you ass."

"Careful," the Turian warned playfully, "I just might like that."

Shepard groaned as he listened to the two bicker heatedly back and forth, "Are you two done? I would really like to finish digging within the next seven hundred years."

Jack gave her commander the one fingered salute before continuing to dig, causing the Turian to laugh out loud as he stuck his shovel back into the wet earth, "In seven hundred years you'd be in your matron stage, Shepard!"

John stopped his digging and stood up straight, wiping off the dirt from the front of his pink armor as he sighed loudly. "You're never going to give this up, are you?"

Garrus shook his head sternly as he tossed out the last of the dirt from the deep grave and looked up towards the commander, "Nope."

"Remind me again why I keep you around?"

"Because I'm amazing."

"Will you shut the hell up with that armor shit?" Jack's annoyed voice argued, "Fuck, Shepard. If I didn't know any better I'd think the two of you were goin' out."

Before John or Garrus could speak, Jack pulled the trigger to her shot gun to shut both up in advance. She had aimed it up into the air, but diagonally so the bullet wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. She grumbled as she reloaded, "…makin' me waste a perfectly good god damned round. Are you ready to put the kid in or what?"

The Turian noticed Lawson peek her head over the window seal to see if trouble had arrived, but when she noticed it was just Jack acting out, Vakarian could have sworn he saw her mouth the words 'that stupid, idiotic child. I swear!' He grinned; oh how he loved the women who worked aboard the Normandy. There was never a dull moment.

Shepard growled but nodded as he tenderly picked up the small body and bent down to hand the child off to Garrus whom placed the child softly into his grave, resting Joseph's hands respectfully at his sides and palm down. The Turian was careful when he was helped out of the resting place, being sure to not nudge the child in any fashion before he spoke. "Anyone wanna' say anything?" he had asked softly.

"You don't have to say nothin'," the biotic said looking down into the small grave, "because where he is beats the place we are now."

John blinked blankly at his girlfriend, "He was just a kid, Jack."

"I know that, Shepard. And I ain't sayin' what that asshole did to him was right. The kid shouldn't have died. But he did. And that ain't changing. Where he is now is quiet and calm. There's nothin' that can bother him or his family anymore, nothin' that can hurt them. Besides, they'll get their chance again. And maybe next time it'll be better."

Garrus looked over the biotic in quiet contemplation before asking his question, "You believe in reincarnation, Jack?"

She shrugged, "Dunno'. But there's gotta be more to it than this."

John looked down at the small body once more before softly taking a lump of dirt onto his shovel and placing it onto the small boy's body. "Rest easy, kid."

"Oh and Shepard," Jack said flatly, "if you're expecting me to help you bury that fuckin' poor excuse for a merc then you got another thing coming. I ain't doin' it."

"He already got his, Jack. Even this guy has a mother out there somewhere that will mourn his loss. He doesn't deserve it, but I'm going to bury him anyways. It's what I'd want someone to do for me."

"Then you can do it without me," the biotic said coldly. "I ain't touching him. I mean don't get me wrong—I've done some bad shit in my time… but a kid at point blank? Naw."

"That fine," the commander assured, "if you don't want to help I won't hold it against you. Let's just finish this one first."

xxxxxxx

"So what would you like to eat," Miranda asked softly as she carefully wrapped the brunette's wrists after applying a small layer of medi-gel to the wounds. "I'm no gourmet chef, but I hear that I can warm up a pretty mean bowl of soup and make a tasty sandwich."

London smiled as she brought her eyes down, "That's not necessary…but thank you."

"London, you haven't eaten anything. You're exhausted, weak, and still dehydrated. You need to eat and drink something."

"I'm really not very hungry."

"Look," the XO said firmly, "I'm not asking as a friend. I'm asking you as this group's second in command. Health is a serious matter, and the team still has to walk all the way back to the shuttle. Do you really want to slow us down? You have sixty one hours to begin treatment. You've used fifty, and Shepard will most likely still be burying that family outside for two more hours. It took us eight hours to get here from the colony. That leaves you one hour to get back onto the Normandy and into the medical bay—and that's cutting it a little to close for my liking. So eat, drink and stop arguing."

London's body language shifted, seeming to have withdrawn and become a little colder. "Understood," she stated impersonally. "You've done a lot for me by coming here. I don't want to slow your team down."

Miranda closed her eyes and damned her usage of words. She really wanted the brunette to eat because she wanted her to get better, because when Lawson was hurting and unable to feed herself London so whole heartedly helped. Why couldn't she just say that? For just once in her life why couldn't her words come out sensitive? This is why she never attempted to make friends; she always ended up slipping somewhere along the lines and looking like a complete bitch who just wanted to bark out orders. "London, it's not that I find you to be incapa—"

The sniper shook her head in protest, "No, I understand. You came here to do a job and I need to work with you and not against you so you can get it done. You're right. I'm tired and slower than I usually am. Forgive me; I'm not used to this," she motioned to her empty eyes, "or being so damn …dependant. But I promise that I'll try to move as quickly as possible."

The Australian pinched the area between her eyes in aggravation before she stood from her seat and made her way towards the kitchen without saying a word, leaving London in the darkness and silence until a rather bored Jack came stomping through the door, "Well look at you all shiny n' shit."

London turned her head in the direction of the voice and smiled, "I took a bath, yes. Is everything alright out there?"

"Yeah," the biotic replied lazily as she plopped down on a seat near the sniper, raising her boots and slamming them down onto the table as she leaned back into her chair, "they're doin' the last one now. I hear your gonna get your lookers back?"

"My eyes? Yes. Thankfully Miranda knew about the herb used on me. I think they'll have the medication ready by the time I get on board your ship."

"So," the biotic asked as she looked around the room, "where the hell are we anyways? This your old house?"

"Yes, it is actually. It's where I grew up. I didn't have to leave until I was about twenty years old and Teagan was two. There are really good memories here," the brunette said sadly.

Jack rested her arms behind her head and examined the blind woman beside her, "Yeah? Like what?"

London turned her gaze over in the direction of Jack and smiled, "Why so curious?"

The biotic shrugged, "I ain't curious, I'm just bored and want you to entertain me. I never had any of this crap so I never exactly got the gist of what 'home-life' was like, ya know? Can't see what the big deal is, seems boring as hell," she lied gracefully; glad that the blind woman beside her couldn't see the honest, childlike curiosity etched clear across her face. "So go ahead; shock and amaze me."

London chuckled lightly, "You just pretty much summed it up yourself, Jack."

"No shit?"

"Being home was 'boring as hell'. But out of everything that I miss, I think that being bored at home is what I miss most. There were no mercenaries, no dealers, no guns, no booming music, no men slobbering over you, and no one wanting to hurt or use you. It was normal—I miss normal. Being home was…spending time with my mother, reading a book to my sister, listening to my father sing, watching my parents dance, sneaking Teagan outside when she couldn't sleep and showing her the stars as we were surrounded by 'light-bugs'." London smiled sadly as she thought back on the old times, "Home-life was waking up every morning to a home made breakfast of funny shaped pancakes, and going to sleep every night with someone saying that they loved you."

The room grew quiet for a moment more before she lastly added, "Maybe one day when Teagan is older and I can gather the nerve…I'll come back and really fix this place up."

Jack clenched her jaw as she looked down onto the wooden table. She wished she could be sad to for losing such a thing, but found that she couldn't bring herself to miss something she had never experienced before. If anything, she was pissed that the opportunity to have such a life had been taken from her. "Bored now," the biotic said with feigned loss of interest. She didn't want to hear anymore, couldn't bring herself to hear anymore.

"I'm sorry I couldn't shock and awe you, Jack." London said with a half grin.

"Jack isn't—oh. So happy to have you join us," Miranda said sourly towards the ex-convict as she entered the room holding a plate.

"Aw sweet a sandwich," Jack said suddenly, quickly grabbing half of the carefully prepared square off the plate as Miranda passed by on her way towards the sniper.

"Jack don't—ugh, are you always so bloody rude?"

"Wuh?" the biotic responded with her mouth full of chewed food, "You wan'it back?" she asked, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out towards the operative."

Miranda scowled as she placed the remainder of the sandwich in front of London, "Disgusting. I don't think a starving dog would want that back, Jack. The point is that it was London's food."

London laughed softly as her hands felt around the table in front of her body for the plate, "It's alright I can share. Thank you for making me food."

Miranda glared at Jack as she reached for London's hand and placed it gently onto the sandwich half, "You shouldn't have to share with her, she eats everything on the damned ship as it is…and you're welcome."

"Whatever," the tattooed woman retorted as she practically inhaled the food, "you're just jealous that I have a fast metabolism and that your fat ass still has to exercise. Besides, she said she didn't mind sharin' so back the fuck up, Cheerleader."

London raised an eyebrow in amusement as she listened to the two women banter, "Are you two always like this?"

"Nah," Jack answered, "most of the time I just ignore the banshee completely. It gets old hearing about her daddy issues and getting' hit by the stick up her ass every time she walks by."

"Oh whatever," The operative said, her lip curling slightly. "…you are really one to talk about issues. You're a walking issue, Jack. You have the issues tattooed all over your body. How in the hell Shepard manages with you at night I will never know."

Jack grinned as she put the rest of the sandwich in her mouth, "Oh believe me Cheerleader… he manages me just fine at night."

"Ugh," the operative said as she looked away in revulsion, "You know damn well that's not what I meant! Haven't you heard of a thing called privacy? You know what don't answer that—I'm talking to a woman who used to wear string as her outfit's top."

"Oh don't you play Ms. Innocent," Jack burst out laughing, "I've seen the shit you look through and buy on your terminal! 'After dark fashions', Cheerleader? Really? Who are you trying to impress? One of those guys on iPartner?"

Miranda's face turned beet red, and for the first time she was incredibly happy London couldn't see, "What the hell are you doing on my terminal!"

"But you're not denying it, are you! So before you go dogging my choice of clothing, make sure that you delete your browsing history on the extranet, princess."

"My terminal is locked! How did the likes of you get in it? Better yet, what the hell were you doing in my office? I swear if I every catch you anywhere ne—"

London chewed on her food slowly, "Um…excuse me, but what's iPartner?"

Before Miranda could put a stop to the conversation the convict blurted out the slogan loudly, the satisfaction in her voice clear as day, "Executive matches for 'selective' people."

The sniper's eyes widened and she found herself coughing lightly after swallowing her food incorrectly, "…a dating service?"

"Not so much, no" the ex-convict mused, "more like a hit it and quit it type of place."

London blinked blankly, "hit it and quit it? Like…having….oh," she said finally, the realization that iPartner was a service used to find another person to have sex with.

Miranda sat still, her body quivering lightly with anger. Jack grinned widely, "this one over here was an eager one—asking left and right for medical reports. Can't be to careful with all the diseases out there, can ya' Cheerleader?"

Lawson couldn't think of a single word to say. She had been embarrassed beyond comparison by the woman she hated most in front of a woman she cared deeply for. She knew she couldn't use her biotics or tech abilities against the foul mouthed ex-convict, it wasn't in her character. She was too good for that and would not stoop to the level Jack wanted to push her to. So, with whatever dignity she could muster, the operative stood from the table and made her way out of the room without so much as a word.

London's eyebrows went up in concern as she felt the woman beside her stand, instinctively reaching out to take hold of her but frowning sadly when she found only empty space and the lingering scent of flowers. "Jack," the sniper said warily, "…you shouldn't have said those things."

"She'll be fine," the biotic replied coolly, "She needs to learn to take the hits if she's going to be shoving them out like she's big shit. Why the hell do you hang around her anyways? She ain't like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah," Jack repeated, "She ain't like you, and you ain't like her."

London considered the statement carefully before responding, "We are different in a lot ways; I guess that's true. But…we're also very much the same in a lot of other ways as well. She's a good woman, Jack. She has a history like any other one of us—probably done some stuff she's not to proud of. But she has a good heart and it's usually in the right place and for the right reasons. Just like another woman I know," she added, playfully nudging the biotic next to her.

Jack rolled her eyes as she stood up, "Whatever, you're free to think what you damn well please. But I don't want to hear about it the moment she starts to annoy the hell out of you with the whole 'waaa, poor me. I'm a rich girl who's had everything she's ever wanted but my daddy hates me. I have the personality of an ice cube and wonder why I still can't get laid, waaaa.' Because I won't be there to tell you 'I told ya so'."

"What can I say, Jack" the sniper chuckled softly, "I guess we can't all have an amazing personality like yours."

"I know," the biotic agreed as she stretched her arms out and popped her back, "and it must suck to be you."

"Oh it does," the brunette mused in good humor, "I curse my unlucky stars every day because of it."

Jack looked at the young woman for a second before actually grinning, "You know…you're alright, London."

"Why thank you, ma'am." London said with an honest smile, playfully adding a gentlewoman's southern accent.

Jack lifted a brow, "Don't do that."

London laughed, "Sorry."

"I'm gonna' go back out and see if Shepard and the cricket are done. Tell Lawson to loosen the fuck up. Honestly, who gives a shit if she tried to get laid?" Jack paused, quickly finding a way to cover up the hint of unease in her voice. "She's pathetic. Whatever, I'll see ya in a few."

London nodded and waited for the biotic to leave, only getting up when hearing the front door close with a rather loud slam. Carefully she felt her away around the kitchen until finding the exit and following the wall to the bedroom. She had heard Miranda walk off in this direction and it was the only other room in this hallway. "Miranda," she called out quietly as she opened to door and stepped through, carefully turning around to close it behind herself. "Miranda, are you in here?"

When there was no reply London's brows crumpled in confusion, "Miranda?" she called out again, sure that this is where the operative must have gone. "Are you really going to lie to a blind girl and pretend that you're not here?" she asked suddenly, her tone coming out playful and tender.

Lawson groaned softly. She had been standing quietly near the window and observing the dark, calm trees of the forest beyond the house's back yard. "How did you know I was here?"

London smiled as she extended her hands in front of her body and slowly made her way towards the voice, "I heard you walk this way after you left."

"But how did you know I was in this room even after I didn't answer?"

The sniper's hand was finally taken by Miranda when she had gotten close enough; the operative wouldn't have wanted London running into the wall after all. London, who gratefully accepted the hand, positioned herself beside the XO before letting her hand fall free. "Lavender," she replied softly, her eyes locking on Miranda's with unexpected accuracy.

"Lavender?"

London reached up and trailed the length of Lawson's arm before her fingers finally came in contact with the long, dark tresses. "I think it's your hair," she said, twirling a silky strand through her finger, "…you smell like Lavender and drying spices. It's warm, comforting…very recognizable."

Miranda's gaze softened as she looked upon the brunette, her hand gently taking London's and moving it away from her hair. "London…"

The sniper frowned lightly at the action, her voice thick with concern, "Are you alright? I know Jack shouldn't have said those things in front of me—they were private."

"I'm not going to lie," Miranda said with false humor, "it was rather embarrassing. But with the Normandy always being so busy and with us having little time to just breathe I felt as though I needed—"

"Miranda," London interrupted softly, "you don't have to explain anything to me. It's your business and nobody else's concern."

"It was out of my character. I don't normally do or resort to things like that it's just…"

"You're human?"

"Pardon?"

"You're human," London restated softly, her fingertips bravely running down the other woman's forearm until she rested the flat of her palm against the back of Miranda's hand. "What you do is incredible, Miranda. I've seen the amount of work you have to do on the Normandy as second in command, and I've also seen the fierceness that you bring out to the battlefield with you. Commander Shepard is a lucky man to have you on his team. You do so much and I have yet to see you ask for anything in return. I admire and I respect that. So I don't see any harm or any reason for you to not want to relieve your stress—no matter the method. We're all adults. You're a smart woman, you know what you're doing, and… you have no emotional ties to another," she added at the end, her voice softening.

The operative stood there dumbfounded as she listened to the sniper's compassionate soliloquy, feeling the affectionate, comforting way London held onto her hand in encouragement. "I just don't want you to think of me as dirty or…cheap," Lawson explained, her tone lowering as if disgusted.

"I would never think of you as that," the brunette reassured, "please remember who you're talking to and what I used to do for a living. I used to have people visit daily. These people who wanted touch, fulfillment, and satisfaction. I should be the last person to ever judge another on that subject."

Miranda swallowed the anger in her throat, not wanting London's statement to get a rise out of her. She hated that London's body had been used for so long, and so repeatedly that they had actually left the evidence of their presence in the sniper's scarring. Lawson had seen the medical report; she had seen the damage done. "I'm sorry…"

London offered an encouraging smile and a squeeze of the hand, "Don't say you're sorry for something I had to do to support someone I love so dearly. I don't regret any of it. But this isn't about me, this about you. I just want you to know that's its okay. Jack was just trying to push buttons."

"Can I be honest?" the XO asked abruptly.

"Of course, I'd think nothing less from you."

"… The service never took me anywhere or accomplished anything anyways. In the end I just wasn't…interested—in any of them."

"No good looking ones?" London teased.

Miranda relaxed when noticing the other woman's calm demeanor, "They were all good looking." She said honestly, "But…they were either clingy, failed my medical standards, annoying, way to romantic, way to macho, way to sensitive, just…ugh," she finally said managing to laugh at herself, causing London to smile widely in return.

"It seems you need a service with 'extremely executive matches for extremely selective people'." The sniper taunted as she ran her thumb across the knuckles of Miranda's gloved hand.

Lawson was quiet as she looked onto the other woman. She couldn't stand how London's simple touch could make even her covered skin burn with passion, something that even her past lovers weren't able to do without the help of a glass or four of champagne. She had missed the company of the young brunette. She had missed the late night talks and short visits the gray eyed woman would give her while she worked away in her office for hours, making the paper work go by faster and even fun at times; So when Lawson finally replied, her tone lowered into a deep, sensual seriousness that caught even the operative by surprise, "What can I say?" she said finally, "I know what I want."

London could feel her cheeks grow heated as she considered the statement ever so carefully; as she listened to the way the operative broke down her sentence, to the way her tone changed in such a fashion the shook the very pit of the brunette's stomach. "…and," The sniper said before inhaling softly, gathering the nerve to fully voice her question, "…what… is it that you want?"

"London…I…" Miranda managed to slowly breathe out as she started to lean into the other woman, her eyes closing into a half lidded, wanton gaze. The operative was hesitant at first when placing her warm hand against the nape of the sniper's neck, but was soon encouraged when the other woman not only didn't pull away, but responded by finding a spot for her own hands to rest on the XO's hips.

"Yes?" the brunette gasped softly, her head naturally beginning to tilt as her eyes hooded. Her senses were on fire. Her sight had only been taken from her for a short while, and though she was still terrible at functioning on her own—everything about the operative made her body tingle all over, made her become more perceptive to her surroundings and the immediate woman in it. London could feel Miranda closing in, her heart racing wildly and eagerly as she felt the warm, delicious breath tickling her lips and drawing the sniper closer… and closer…"Miranda," she whispered, "tell me what you wan—"

"Hey guys, Shepard said that—uh…are you alright?" Garrus asked as he stormed into the bedroom, taking notice of the two women standing oddly erect and side by side, their chests heaving up and down as if someone had just scared the living hell out of them. His mandible twitched. "…you guys look…flushed," he said, an eyebrow risen in suspicion. "Is something out the window?"

"We're fine, Specialist Vakarian." Miranda replied quickly, her professional mannerism kicking into full gear as she tucked a loose strand of raven hair behind her ear neatly. "What did the Commander say?"

Garrus eyeballed the operative for a moment before deciding everything was alright and responding, "We're all done and everything is packed up. He just wanted to double check to make sure you had everything and were ready to go, London."

"I am," she responded quickly and with a firm nod. "Thank you, by the way. For burying them…I wish I could have—"

Garrus waved a hand at her, "Don't mention it. You needed to rest and clean up and what not. Are you feeling better?"

"I do feel better. I'm still blind, but I'm doing better." she responded with a kind smile and good sense of humor, "thank you for asking."

The Turian looked the woman over appreciatively, "Shall we?"

"We shall," the sniper responded easily, walking towards Garrus who gave the woman his arm. She stopped though before she reached the exit, turning towards Miranda with a hopeful tone, "Are you coming?"

"I am," the XO replied softly, "just give me a minute to double check if we've missed anything around the house," she lied, "I'll catch up."

London wasn't so easily fooled, but decided it best to simply agree for the time being and be escorted out by the eager Turian. When the sniper had left the room Miranda placed her warm forehead against the cool glass window.

What the hell are you doing, Lawson?

[End 23: Search and Rescue]