A/N: This is the first time I've written the author's note before the chapter itself, it feels quite strange. Anywho, I'm sorry this took longer than usual. I've lost a bit of steam lately, as I've been playing Dragon Age 2 again. The Hawke and Isabela feelings are making a comeback, so Miranda and Shepard have fallen to the wayside a bit. My deepest apologies.

Okay, guess I'll start typing blindly now with no plan whatsoever, wish me luck!

There was another week and a half of life in the hospital for the pair of them, and with EDI sorted and Shepard on the mend, Miranda tried to push away the thoughts that her purpose there had been served. She kept waiting for a member of the staff or even one of Shepard's numerous well wishers to question her presence. It never happened, but Miranda was eager to get out of that environment all the same. There were just so many other people around them all the time; it was exhausting having to entertain so many guests in the tiny room. In her weakened state, it was a wonder Shepard put up with it at all and didn't simply deny everyone entry.

Currently, it was one of the rare occasions they found themselves alone. Miranda sat in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed, legs tucked up against her chest, while Shepard lay snuggled beneath a pile of blankets, scrolling absentmindedly through the news on her omnitool.

"Look at this, there's a report here that I'm dead," Shepard chuckled in disbelief, "the Alliance is keeping my passing a secret so as not to upset the public, fancy that."

Miranda smirked, "I had heard Joker was considering consenting to an interview."

Shaking her head in amusement, Shepard continued on through the information, "Well I'm glad he's having a good time at least."

"Do you think you'll ever let them talk to you or…" Miranda trailed off carefully, knowing Shepard's relationship with most reporters was volatile at best.

Shepard sighed, "Unless the Alliance demands I personally make a public statement I'll be staying clear of that circus, thanks."

Nodding in understanding, Miranda leaned forward to rest her chin on her knees, "Well I'm sure you'll have to say something at some point."

Shepard scoffed, "Whatever. All I care about is getting out of here as soon as possible. The politics can wait."

Miranda hesitated for a moment before speaking, "So, what's your plan then?"

They hadn't really talked about it, but Shepard didn't exactly have a place to go. The Citadel cleanup process was well underway, but it was not yet habitable. Even if it were, Shepard had had Miranda send Kahlee Sanders a message a few days prior that stated when everything was once again up and running, Anderson's apartment was hers to do with what she will. The only other place Shepard could consider home was the Normandy, and as the ship was still owned by the Alliance, that was obviously a less than permanent solution.

"Well," Shepard answered with an unconcerned shrug, "Hackett sent word earlier that he knew I was being released tonight. Said something about getting everything worked out for me, I just needed to wait around for a bit."

Miranda fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Oh good, the Alliance is dictating her future now too.

Shepard gave her a curious look. "You know," she started thoughtfully; "it's going to be weird. The Alliance is out in force on cleanup duty, and apparently I'm not cleared for any 'fieldwork'. I was grounded on Earth for awhile, yeah, but even then I was still in a military base. I feel like I can't even remember what it's like to live as a civilian."

With a bitter laugh, Miranda responded quickly, "It's not all its hyped up to be."

Shepard smirked, "Well I don't intend on being on the run in the slums of Omega."

Miranda's eyes narrowed in response, prompting a laugh from Shepard, "Oh relax. Anyhow, speaking of your escapades, I trust you're in the clear these days."

"Well," Miranda unconsciously began to chew on her lip while she considered her answer, "I believe so, yes."

"That's not the confidence I was expecting," Shepard responded suspiciously.

With a sigh, Miranda began to backpedal, "I should be just fine. The Illusive Man's vendetta against me was a personal one, I'm sure it died with him. It's just; there were a lot of powerful humans in this universe with quite substantial investments in Cerberus. Not that I knew each of them personally, but I know the type, Shepard. They won't be content with the current state of affairs."

"Do you think they'll want revenge?" Shepard questioned incredulously, "Or maybe that they'll want to rebuild Cerberus?"

Miranda shook her head, clearly weighing the possible outcomes of the situation, "All I know for certain is that at the very least they will be looking to have their assets reclaimed."

"Well, all we can do is keep our noses out of trouble and hope that they are so distracted by being fabulously wealthy that we slip under their radar," Shepard responded easily with a shrug.

Miranda rolled her eyes, begrudgingly jealous of Shepard's nonchalance when faced with the same uncertainties that kept her awake at night.

"I suppose so," She finally said, realizing they really had no other option.

"Hey," Shepard was sitting up in the bed now, an almost worried expression gracing her features, "so what have you, uh, been thinking about now that everything is getting back to normal?"

Her head tilted to the side a bit as Miranda responded, "Thinking?"

"You know," Shepard sounded exasperated, and was gesturing towards Miranda wildly in her frustration, "thinking."

"Shepard, what are you talking-"but Miranda was cut off when Shepard's omnitool chimed cheerily, signifying an oncoming message.

"Oh for the love of-" Shepard grumbled as she fumbled with the device, "hold on."

Miranda waited patiently and watched with interest as Shepard concentrated on her task. In an instant, an unfamiliar voice filled the room.

"Uh, um, hello? This is Jeremy Booker, I was told to relay a message from Admiral Hackett."

"Hello there, Jeremy," Shepard responded quickly, attempting to sound cheerful despite her annoyance at the interruption, "What can I do for you?"

The obviously young man hesitated before continuing, clearly a bit rattled at the now legendary commander's casual greeting, "I, um, I was supposed to inform you that temporary lodgings have been acquired for your use here on Earth until you are once again fit for duty and able to reclaim your position aboard the Normandy, sir," He all but squeaked in embarrassment, "oh no! Er, Ma'am. Yes."

Miranda smiled as Shepard shot her a sympathetic look, "Relax, kid. Send me the location when you can, and give Hackett my thanks."

"Yes, Ma'am. And may I just say, it was an honor speaking with you."

It was hard not to laugh as Miranda watched Shepard's face sour at the praise, clearly uncomfortable with the universes' new adoration of her. Some evil part of Miranda couldn't wait to watch the woman's agony as she emerged into the public eye once more, the results were sure to be amusing.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Booker."

The call ended then, punctuated by a heavy sigh from Shepard, "This is going to be awful."

"That's what you get for playing hero," Miranda reminded her unhelpfully, smiling when Shepard scowled, "if only somebody had given you great advice about staying out of the front lines…" Miranda trailed of wistfully, reveling in Shepard's annoyance.

"And you said you weren't funny," She grumbled, arms crossed.

With a sad smile, Miranda turned away, "So, a place on Earth. That's just about as domesticated as you can get, think you can handle it?"

Shepard gave a mock shudder, "More terrifying than any Reaper."

"I am just trying to imagine you doing the grocery shopping," Miranda threw in mischievously.

A small smirk passed along Shepard's lips, but disappeared as quickly as it had come, "About what I said before," She hesitated, clearly unsure of how to continue.

"Stop that," Miranda reprimanded gently as Shepard began pulling at the bandages on her left arm in her nervousness.

"Sorry," she stilled her hand, and shifted a bit where she sat, "I just, uh, about the thinking. What have you thought about those…thinking...thoughts?"

Miranda stared at her blankly.

"Right, sorry," Shepard faltered suddenly, "never mind. I was just, you know, asking."

She sized Miranda up for a minute, prompting the woman to grow a bit concerned, "Asking what? Is everything okay?"

Shepard shifted anxiously atop her bed, starting to feel defensive at being questioned, "Yeah, it would be if you'd just pay attention."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miranda shot back, clearly fighting a laugh, "There's nothing to pay attention to, you've been spouting nonsense."

Brow furrowing in irritation, Shepard all but growled, "Don't make fun of me. I'm trying to be serious for once, and you're ruining it." She sounded like a young child.

Sliding her legs off the chair and onto the floor, Miranda crossed her arms in slight annoyance, "Maybe if you just said what you wanted and stopped taking shots at me in the process this would go a bit more smoothly, hmm?"

Shepard's arms were now crossed as well, and she slumped ungracefully down into her pillow, an exaggerated pout overtaking her face, "You don't have to talk to me with that attitude you know."

Miranda's mouth fell open in disbelief, "I'm the one with the attitude?"

"Yeah," Shepard spat back, "that whole 'holier than thou' thing you've got going on."

Now thoroughly offended, Miranda scoffed in exasperation "Excuse me? Sorry I was having some trouble sorting out all of the incoherent babbling."

Shepard shot her a hard glare, "Well, maybe if you stopped being all intimidating and perfect human specimen-y then we wouldn't have these problems in the first place."

"Oh my god," Miranda groaned. She wasn't quite sure where this was going, but it already looked as though it was going to be something she didn't like, "would you grow up and just say what you mean?"

"Fine," Shepard responded, her voice high and her tone heated, "I was just wondering what your plans for the future were."

"Well I haven't had time to think about that while I've been running your personal errands for the past month and a half, now have I?"

"Well then you should probably stay with me until you figure out what you want to do."

"Maybe I will."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great."

"Well, that settles it then," Shepard snarled as she rolled over in a huff, turning away from Miranda, who was desperately trying to squash the elation rising in her chest with the artificial notion that she was totally still furious with Shepard.

As the hour had been quite late, and Shepard had insisted on traversing the streets with the hood of her favorite N7 sweatshirt drawn tightly over her head, they had managed to reach the apartment building without being recognized by any who crossed their path. It was a small structure, homely and sparsely decorated, but something about the quaintness of it was inviting.

As the Reapers had targeted big cities, and cleanup was proving to be a monumental task, places like this were some of the few who still had vacancies. Many humans had fled Earth, and an obscene amount had not lasted to see the end of the war, but even still there seemed to be issues with providing everyone with adequate shelter. Miranda was surprised Hackett had managed to find anything for Shepard at all.

They stood in the doorway of their new home, appraising the small space appreciatively before Shepard set her bags down on the floor a couple of paces in. They had made a quick pit stop at the docked Normandy to collect her possessions, as the ship was needed back in action now that the work on EDI was complete for the time being. Shepard had put up a bit of a stink when she realized somebody else would be taking temporary command of her vessel, but she had calmed a bit when the Alliance assured her Joker would remain at the helm. The Normandy could offer a lot of suffering people aid, so she would have to accept it.

Miranda followed her into the room slowly, careful not to jostle the glass tank in her hands. Tali had been caring for the brave little space hamster since Shepard had been out of commission, but now it had fallen into the commander's care once more. She had nothing else but a small pack of the clothes she had managed to hold on to slung across her shoulder, as no other property had survived the journey. As soon as Miranda had resigned from Cerberus, any credits she had saved in her account over the years had mysteriously disappeared. The few small caches of funds she had hidden in case of emergency hadn't lasted long, and anything of value had been quickly sold or traded. Living on the run hadn't been cheap, and information on Oriana was quite expensive. It was an interesting sensation, having to completely rebuild a life.

"Hmm," Shepard scanned the room carefully, "I like it."

With a laugh, Miranda headed into the modest kitchen space and gently rested the space hamster, which had been quite frustratingly dubbed Space Hamster, down on the counter, "You haven't even seen the whole place yet."

Shepard waved her hand in the air dismissively, "I can tell, it's got a good vibe."

She moved into what was now their tiny living room and plopped down unceremoniously on the couch. Miranda moved to stand in front of her, hands on her hips, "Are you seriously not even going to look around?"

"Oh but I'm so tired," Shepard whined childishly.

With a heavy sigh, Miranda shook her head, "At least unpack, we're not having luggage piled about for days."

"Oh boy, already we're setting rules," Shepard called out to nobody in particular. The comment would have earned her a smack if not for the obvious teasing tone of her voice.

"Just get a move on," Miranda responded with a laugh, "you're already driving me up the wall."

Shepard stood with a smart salute, "Yes, Ma'am."

Miranda sat on the foreign bed, absently watching Space Hamster scurry about the cage that rested atop what was now to be their dresser. Shepard was in the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom, brushing her teeth in the open doorway with gusto.

"Mmhf oi dink oui haf to-"

Nose scrunched up in disgust, Miranda shook her head, "Just wait until you're done, for heaven's sake."

Shepard rolled her eyes before turning back into the bathroom to spit into the sink with exaggerated volume for dramatic effect.

When she returned, she wore a sly smirk, "What I was saying was that it looks like we're going to need to do a bit of shopping tomorrow. You need some clothes, and I'm sure the kitchen is empty."

As Shepard clamored into bed beside her, Miranda began to feel a little uneasy. It was foolish, but she was starting to believe that this new domestic life might be the most frightening one she had ever been faced with leading.

Suddenly, it was dawning on her how new this situation was. Nobody was going to be injured or dying, nobody was on the run or facing impossible odds. There was just the present, and them, and the infinite unknown of the future.

As they settled down side by side, Miranda marveled over how little they knew of each other in circumstances such as this, and how little they knew of themselves. The future was looking quite scary that night, and sleep had difficulty finding Miranda as she pondered over what uncertainties the sunrise would bring.

How different were things going to be here? What if things were too different? How was this ever going to last? What if it couldn't last?

And how on Earth was she going to survive shopping with Commander Shepard?