A/N: I want to apologize for the poor pacing of this. When I updated the last chapter I was being lazy, it should have been two chapters and not one. No more 4 am updates, eh?

Anywho, tis a Shepard centric chapter since I haven't really done one for awhile. let's have a few last laughs.

Though Miranda was the one being threatened, she remained surprisingly level-headed from that night onwards. Shepard was the one racing about like a fox on fire. She let Shepard flounder around for a bit, yes, but it wasn't long before Miranda was blocking her futile attempts at information gathering. There was nothing to be found, and soon she would be taken away. Miranda was not going to waste the time they had left scooping cups of water over the side of a sinking ship.

They found some minor things had begun to change in their relationship as the clock counted down, the most notable of which being that it was up to Miranda to instigate acts of a less than innocent nature. They moved together more slowly now, the haste that comes from playfulness completely gone. Their actions were unhurried, deliberate and laced with double meaning. It wasn't the roaming hands and clashing teeth of the past, but a passionate exploration, measured and thorough, full of promise.

It seemed as though it happened in an instant, after Miranda was gone. It had crept up from nowhere, though they had been waiting for it for days. Shepard found herself lying alone in her bed the night before the trial, listening to the constant scurrying of Space Hamster digging through the shavings in his cage. She pondered about how easy it must be to be a rodent, and how very impossible it seemed that facing tomorrow felt more terrifying than any ancient monster she had taken down in the past.

If she had taken a moment to think about it, Shepard would have regretted not treating the woman who was blocking her entrance a bit more kindly. As it happened, however, Shepard found herself pushing past her brutishly, grunting, "Spectre," over her shoulder before the doors swung shut behind her, Oriana at her heels.

Miranda sat on an uncomfortable looking wooden bench against the far wall of the small room, looking quite out of place. A security guard took a step forward at their sudden intrusion, but Shepard waved him off, "Hi, Commander Shepard. Lord and savior, get lost."

He was taken aback, "but-"

"Fine," Shepard sighed, "just keep quiet."

Despite her nerves, Miranda managed a small smile in greeting. She was unbound and able to dress in her civilian wear as she had submitted quietly without resistance. Oriana tried to give her sister a reassuring look, but she was still too upset to put her all into it. Shepard and her had been bickering the whole ride over as to whether she would get to testify or not. Apparently child endangerment and kidnapping weren't the kind of stories Shepard thought the jury should hear.

"Hey there," Shepard asked, not sure how else to begin "How was the first night in the clink?"

Miranda grimaced at the memory, "dirty, if nothing else."

There was a short silence for a moment, and then Shepard kneeled to fuss over Miranda's shirt busily, brushing off imaginary dust, "Now, just remember that we have the truth on our side. The only thing you have to worry about is telling the story and being yourself."

Miranda nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but Shepard's eyes widened suddenly, "Except don't be too much yourself. Be you, but…not…you…"

She trailed off awkwardly, looking to Oriana for assistance. "Just be warm and friendly. Look at everybody a lot, smile the whole time," the girl stated simply.

"Well, except when they bring up the horrendous experiments and abduction stuff," Shepard cut in hastily.

"Yeah," Oriana blanched, "don't smile at that."

"Make eye contact," Shepard added, "I heard liars can't look people in the eye."

Oriana nodded, "Yes, just not scary eye contact. Don't be intimidating."

"Oh, yes," Shepard faltered for a moment, taking in the intensity of Miranda's steely blue eye, "you know what? Don't worry about too much of the eye contact. Focus on sounding sincere."

"Don't be too formal," Oriana carried on, "make sure your tone has the right feeling. You want to sound sorry -"

"But not in a guilty way."

"Appalled that activities like that were going on -"

"And astonished that you would even be considered as a suspect, but never indignant."

"No, never indignant."

Shepard paused, realizing that may of the qualities mentioned fit 'professional Miranda' like a glove, "You know what?" She finally said, patting the woman on the shoulder warmly, "Just think of everything you usually do in front of strangers, and do the exact opposite."

Miranda sat on the little bench, feeling more nervous now than she had all morning. Oriana seemed to understand her sister's unease, and she leaned forward, reaching out for the woman's blouse.

"Here," She said simply as she unbuttoned the top two buttons quickly.

Shepard's mouth dropped open, "excuse me?" Her hands shot forward and she quickly thread them back up.

"No," Oriana hissed, reopening them, "here, just unbutton the top few. That's how you get sympathy from the male jurors, trust me."

"Woah, now," Shepard responded as she did them up once more, "No thank you, that's not necessary. And I don't even want to know where that came from."

"Stop, leave them like this. It might even win over a few of the ladies."

"No, we're not resorting to sex appeal."

"Everything is about sex appeal. Deal with it."

"I said no!"

"Can everyone please get their hands away from my breasts?"

Shepard put what she hoped was a comforting arm around Oriana's shoulders as they were asked to leave the room. She felt anxious, almost nauseous, and couldn't even imagine what must be going on through Miranda's mind. They paused outside the doors together, both looking a little lost.

"I just," Oriana began suddenly, "I hate this. I should be allowed to help."

Shepard snorted as she dropped her arm, "join the club."

They milled about in the hallway for a bit, aimlessly waiting for when they were allowed to go in and take a seat. There were no words passed between them, and they seemed reluctant to even let their eyes meet. Nameless officials passed by in a blur, faces irritably emotionless to the women who were so full of feeling.

It was when the fifteenth man in a crisp clean suit strolled nonchalantly by that Shepard finally snapped, "Fuck this, Oriana. You know what? Let's just make a run for it. I'll have her past Rannoch before they even notice we're gone."

"Shepard," Oriana warned, not quite sure if the woman was joking.

"What?" Shepard responded defensively, "these stiffs won't understand her. What right do these idiots have to judge her like this?" She crossed her arms in an effort to regain some composure, "I'm not just going to sit and watch them take her."

Oriana felt her resolve waver, if her sister was going back on the run, she had no doubt Shepard would be taking excellent care of her. And yet, she knew deep down that it would never work out, that Shepard was just freaking out, panicking. They had to have faith in Miranda, had to believe she could do this because nobody else in the wide universe did.

"Shepard," Oriana sighed, "you can't."

"Yes I can," Shepard whined, sounding a bit like a small child.

There was a soft chuckle then, and both women turned to find a familiar face, "having a bad day, Shepard?"

"Liara!" Shepard was taken aback, "what are you doing here?"

The Asari smiled, her wise eyes glinting dangerously, "I wouldn't know much about it, but I hear the Shadow Broker never gives up on a task. It may not be the solution you envisioned," She glanced over her shoulder, "but I was able to call in a few favors."

Shepard followed her gaze, her face softening at the sight, "guys…"

Tali waved from where she stood next to Garrus at the other side of the long hallway, and though she couldn't see the face hidden beneath the mask, Shepard knew there was a wide grin plastered there. Garrus was chatting animatedly with Jacob who sat on a bench next to a now visibly pregnant Brynn. She was glancing wearily between Samara, who seemed to be meditating on the floor beside her, and Jack, who seemed to be trying to annoy the shit out of Ashley. The newly made Spectre had her arms crossed as she appeared to be having trouble sorting out which was worse, the convict's vulgar jibes coming in from the left, or Vega's cringe-inducing flirting coming in from the right. Joker was watching his old friend, clearly amused at her plight, while EDI observed the scene silently from his side. Grunt was standing awkwardly beside them, clearly feeling more than a little out of place in the formal atmosphere.

"Come on," Liara said gently, leading them towards the motley group.

"Shepard," Jacob smiled up at her in greeting, "we heard you got yourself into a bit of a bind here."

Ashley took a step forward, "we've got your back, skipper."

"Well I was promised payment," Jack grumbled quickly, shooting a meaningful glare at Liara who merely rolled her eyes, no way was she going to let anyone think she was helping out of the goodness of her heart.

If her old crew hadn't known any better, if they weren't accustomed to Shepard's badassery, they might have thought perhaps there was a single joyful tear collecting in the corner of her eye. Of course, that would have been a complete inaccuracy on their part.

"We've worked together for many years. Miranda is driven, focused, and sometimes that makes her a hard woman to get along with, but she's not the kind of person who could do the things you're accusing her of."

"I didn't know her for very long, but Shepard and I had a lot of run ins with Cerberus when we were taking down Saren. She wouldn't put her trust in one of their officers easily."

"We might not be meeting for drinks at the bar anytime soon, but when Shepard put me on a squad that Miranda was in charge of, I never had any reservations."

"Come on, look at Lola over there. Who is gonna betray that face?"

"Miranda was a hardened woman, a brilliant leader, and an excellent soldier. The quality I most attributed her with however was her unwavering loyalty; one that undoubtedly lies with Shepard."

"Hell, we were never close, but I guess we'd all be dead without her."

"I'm not going to lie and say she wasn't intimidating at first, but now I'm happy - and proud - to call Miranda a friend."

"She is valued by my battlemaster, and so is worthy of respect."

"She only threatened to terminate the mission by activating the Normandy's self destruct feature once….that was a joke."

"I've seen the worst parts of Cerberus; I know what shit can happen when their people go bad. This princess doesn't have the stomach for it."

"When you know the facts, when you have the real story, there's only one person she was ever one hundred percent devoted to in her past, her sister - her family. But that changed, that family has grown, and we're sitting here now, returning that devotion."

It was after all the hugging, after the laughter and tears and grand declarations of gratitude, that Shepard found herself hovering over a delightfully naked Miranda. She watched as the woman shifted impatiently below her, all traces of the earlier embarrassment long gone. Only Miranda would have been embarrassed by the grand displays of affection her old comrades had shown, only she would be so adorably overcome by the emotions building inside that she was physically incapable of expressing them aloud.

Shepard smiled as she thought back. Of course she was delighted by her friends' understanding, of the way they had slowly begun to trust Miranda, respect her, rely on her, and eventually become her saving grace in the darkest hour. And yet, at the moment, Shepard's main focus was on the fact that she was there, in their bed, the only being in the known universe allowed to take this position. Miranda was free now, the shackles of the past were crumbling around them, and for once Shepard felt unafraid by their relationship.

There was nothing else now, nobody left to hide from. The Illusive Man, Henry Lawson, Kai Leng – all dead and gone. Forgotten nightmares entangled in a desperate history. Only the two of them had survived, there, in that moment, completely and utterly belonging to each other. Shepard shifted a bit, teasing the woman, smiling at the low growl of frustration she earned almost immediately.

She felt liberated, unburdened. Miranda had run from those people, had deserted each and every one, and yet with Shepard she remained. It was enough to make a soldier smug, laying a top the perfect woman, but it was more than that. Anyone who saw her could say Miranda was gorgeous; they could compliment her biotic ability or praise her intelligence. But Shepard, she was truly privileged. She was able to learn the favorite color schemes, preferred foods, choice novels. She was honored with theories she would never quite fully understand, privy to the hushed musings that would never be admitted in confidence. Shepard shifted once more, triumphant in receiving this gift.

"So," She spoke slowly, allowing her hands to wander aimlessly about the creamy skin beneath herself, "a free woman. What comes next for you, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda seemed almost pained as she responded through gritted teeth, "I'm going to beat the life out of you if you don't stop teasing."

Shepard clucked her tongue disapprovingly, "So much for reforming and finding solace in the lord. Once a convict always a convict, I see." She let her fingers dip low for just a moment, long enough to get the woman's hopes up, and then pulled them away once more.

"Jane," Miranda attempted to mask the pleading in her voice with irritation.

"Uh oh," Shepard chuckled, "Jane? I must be in a heck of a lot of trouble."

Even in the dark, Shepard could feel the chill of the glare being directed at her. She reveled in the annoyance, absolutely delighted. Anyone else would be a smear on the wall, but somehow, unbelievably, she was not. Shepard knew there would be no declarations of undying love from Miranda, no clichéd speeches. There would be the little things though - the Miranda things - touches and looks, eye rolls and laughter. No, Shepard mused as she finally pressed her lips to the woman's skin, blazing a trail lower and lower, Miranda would likely refuse to utter the word love until the very minute one of them was at death's door.

As she set about her work, Miranda's fingers tugging at fistfuls of her hair in her uncontrolled ecstasy, Shepard found that it didn't bother her one bit.

A/N: One more chapter coming up. It's about friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiendship (I love friendship things). I've only written a little so far, but I'm having a good time with it. Hopefully we all walk away satisfied in the end :)