Jack kept herself busy. At her job, at school, she even took on tutoring a few kids already, nasty little brats the made her want to throw stuff at them a lot, but they started paying attention once she'd shouted at them for a while. And she had to work to keep her grades, too. There'd been some slack lately, not without reason. A reason with blue eyes and perfect tits and a smile that took you by surprise, made your heart ache. Who'd held her head up high as she'd walked away from Jack.

It was good to have all that work to do. Distracting. But there were lonely, empty moments in which Miranda's absence, and the thought that it was a permanent state, made her ache all over. But she'd made her decision, and she kept telling herself that she had no right whatsoever to wallow in self-pity. Not that it helped much. But it was better for both of them, in the long run.

Jack closed her eyes and leant her forehead against the cool glass of the kitchen window. She'd been staring out at the rain without actually seeing anything for a while now, her thoughts wandering off to where she didn't want them to be.

She had no future to offer Miranda. No perspective. Nothing. Nothing but her own fucked-up issues. Miranda deserved better than that.

"Tea?"

She turned abruptly to Liz, who'd just walked into the kitchen, looking at her quizzically.

"No."

"Want to join me for dinner?"

"No, Liz, I'm not very hungry."

Her roommate was quiet for a moment, then she said softly:

"I'm sorry you're hurting."

Jack threw her head back in exasperation.

"I am not."

"Of course you are. You were so happy with her. Did you argue again?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Liz sighed.

"Okay."

. . . . .

Jane woke up with a dry throat and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. On her way back, she peered into the living room and made out Miranda's outline against the light coming in from a street lamp. She was just sitting there, obviously not asleep. Jane didn't want to be intrusive, but she didn't have it in her to just go back to bed, and instead called her name lowly.

"Jane?"

"Are you okay?" Jane entered the living room, feeling like an intruder, anyway. Miranda turned on the small lamp on the table next to the couch. To Jane's relief she didn't look like she'd cried. Miranda had actually been rather stoic those last days, and Jane wasn't sure if she was coping better than Jane thought she would in her place, or if she was just bottling everything up inside. She had barely batted a lash when her mom had eventually, with a lot of forced calm, summarized her conversation with Miranda's dad. It must have been a lot nastier than what her mom had let on, but what it came down to was that he refused to let Miranda come back unless she apologized, not that Miranda had any intentions of going back whatsoever, and that he wouldn't let her have any of her stuff unless she came back. Jane couldn't believe anyone could be that unpleasant, and she had frankly no idea how Miranda had endured this for so long.

At least her mom had been adamant in her decision to let Miranda stay with them.

"I'm fine. Couldn't really sleep, though."

Jane walked over and let herself fall into the armchair.

"That couch must be uncomfortable. We can change the bedding, you can sleep in my bed, I'll stay here."

"No. Dammit, how do you do that?" Miranda gave her a small, sad smile. "How are you that kind?"

Jane rubbed the back of her head, slightly flustered.

"I'm not trying all that hard, honestly."

"I... I never really had a friend before. I haven't been particularly nice to you and feel kind of lousy about it now."

"Oh." Jane didn't know what to say for a moment, then she shook her head. "It's okay, I am meddlesome. And a little annoying in general."

Miranda opened her mouth to say something, then swallowed and looked down at her hands.

"Thank you." She sounded like she was about to cry, and Jane got up without even thinking about it, sat down next to her and pulled her close. To her surprise, Miranda wrapped her arms around her and hid her face against the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"It's alright if you cry, you know?" Jane said lowly, rubbing Miranda's shoulders.

"No, I'm fine, I just... need a moment."

"Sure."

She stroked her back and shoulders, feeling just a little out of her depths.

"I used to say you're lucky to have Liara, but I just realized that she's very lucky, too," Miranda muttered after a moment, pulling back, not meeting her eyes.

"Heh, thanks," Jane replied.

"Do you miss her?"

"Well, she's only been gone for a few days, but yeah. All the time."

"I envy you two," Miranda said lowly.

"Jack is a fool."

Miranda's face dropped for a moment, then she just shrugged helplessly.

"Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm not easy to love. I know people are intimidated by me, and I don't make much of an effort to please them, perhaps I need to be..."

"No. No, you're not. You don't need to be any different, okay? You're sweet, and smart, and a bit feisty. You know who you are, and if she throws that away, she's an idiot."

"Huh." Miranda looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jane stroked up and down her bare arm, and Miranda leaned forward again, hugging her.

"I'll be here as long as you need me, okay?" she muttered.

"Thanks."

. . . . .

Jack had gone a while without talking to anyone she didn't have to. It was easy to avoid people, most of the time, but Jane eventually cornered her, even though it took her some time, considering she was incapable of keeping her rather large nose out of other people's business.

"Come to lecture me? Talk things over? Try and fix this? Because you can't."

"No, I wasn't going to. What you did is pretty despicable, actually. You're in this alone."

Jack frowned, then shook her head.

"Okay, I'm despicable. Then what do you want?"

"Miranda said you still had some of her stuff. She didn't want to talk to you, though."

There was a book Miranda had leant her, some other stuff, jewelry, a lipstick, small things she'd turn over in her hands. And a shirt Miranda had forgotten. She had no right to them, but the thought of giving them back made Jack clenched her teeth.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll bring it with me tomorrow. Didn't have to leave her shit at my place..."

Jane clicked her tongue.

"It's not like she could have expected that you'd let yourself be bribed into breaking up with her."

For a moment, Jack's heart seemed to plummet. Things fell into place all of a sudden, and she couldn't stop herself from muttering:

"She really thinks that?"

Jane frowned at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jack said quickly. "Yes, bribed. Despicable. Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

"Wait a second!"

But Jack stormed off, her heart hammering in her chest.

"So what!" she yelled, people staring at her. Why did the idea that Miranda thought she'd accepted her dad's money make her feel so awful? She'd broken up with Miranda, it wasn't like there had been anything left to salvage. There was no chance they could ever be friends, not the way she was feeling about her, anyway.

But fuck, Miranda had to hurt at the thought. The betrayal.

It didn't matter, though, Jack told herself. It didn't need clarification. More reason for Miranda to hate her. To get over her fast.

. . . . .

It was late that afternoon that Liz came into her room, startling Jack who was wearing headphones, a necessary measure after too many complaints about her music being too loud.

"There's someone here to see you."

Jack cringed.

"You let them in?"

Liz just shrugged and turned to leave, and Jack got up reluctantly, trudging into the hall, where she cursed as she spotted Jane, standing in the door frame, that awfully self-righteous, determined expression on her face again.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, what are you doing here? Why does everyone suddenly feel the need to visit me at home?"

"Will you let me in? Please?"

"No! You promised you wouldn't come here, and this is none of your business!"

Jane fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, watched Jack for a while, before blurting out:

"But you didn't take the money, did you?"

"I'm going to slam that door into your stupid face, I swear."

"I couldn't believe you would have done that. That didn't seem like you."

"You know fuck all about me!"

Nothing Jack seemed to have any impact on Jane, who just kept talking.

"But he did speak to you, then? About the money? What on earth did he say that made you break up with her? Did he threaten you?"

"Dammit, you think I'd be that much of a pussy?" Jack hissed.

Jane grimaced, but kept pushing.

"Come on now. You don't want me to go back to her with half-truths now, would you?"

Jack glared at her.

"Don't tell her anything. You have no right to do that."

"You don't think she has a right to know the truth? Do you have any idea how bad she has taken this entire thing? To think that her dad could just buy you off like that? She's devastated. What did he tell you?"

Jack closed her eyes.

"That I'm ruining her life," she muttered. "That it won't last, and she'll see that it was all a mistake and then it's going to be too late. And it's true!"

"God!" Jane huffed. "It's her life, why don't you let her decide?"

"Because it's my fucking life, too, which makes it my fucking decision!"

She gave Jack a pained look.

"But you love each other."

"There are more important things in life than love."

"But you didn't take his money!"
"Of course I didn't take the scumbag's money!"

"Can't you see he's been playing you?"

"That doesn't change the fact that he is right. I am ruining her life."

"No, all you're ruining is his idea if what she's supposed to be."

"You don't get it!" Jack rubbed her forehead tiredly. Fuck, she did not want to have this conversation, it made her feel all twisted up inside. "She's smart and resourceful and she doesn't deserve to be denied the future and opportunities she could have. She can play along, take his money, and some day, when she has the means to sustain herself, she can blow him off."

"If she caves now – and she won't, by the way – she'd just do it again and again, and he'd control more and more of her life. Don't you realize that he'd just blackmail her into submission whenever he doesn't like something she does? How can you think that that's the life she ought to live? She's been sleeping on my couch for a week, goddamnit!"

Jack stared at her.

"She what?"

"Yeah. She doesn't want to go home, and she won't. Doesn't matter whether or not you're with her, she doesn't want to return to him. I get it. You're scared. This is a lot to handle. If it's too much for you, I'm pretty sure she'd understand. But don't do this for her sake, because with you or without you Miri will handle it and she won't go back to her dad."

Jack slumped against the wall and slid down, burying her face in her hands.

"Fuck, this is all my fault."

"It isn't! It would have happened with anyone she'd liked. The problem isn't with you, it's with him! Why do I get the feeling I'm talking to a wall here? You're not doing either of you any favour by telling yourself you're protecting her with this. You're not."

Jane knelt down in front of her, and Jack looked up, not sure if she wanted to punch her or start screaming at her.

"Hey. Stop doing this to her and to yourself."

"I'm an idiot and I fucked up. I always fuck up."

"Everyone fucks up, Jack. Look, I can see that this is hard for you, but you're making it even harder than it is. You should talk to her, you really should, both of you need that."

"I don't..." Jack frowned. "I need to think about this. Just leave me alone for now, okay? And don't talk to her about anything I've said. Please."

Jane sighed.

"Alright." She reached out and patted Jack's shoulder, Jack barely even bothered enough to glare at her for that. "But, you know, consider talking to her about this entire mess, it can't make things worse. Just drop by any time."

Jane stood up and turned to leave, Jack kicking the door shut behind her, then she just sat there for a long time, mulling things over.