A/N: As always, thank you for the reviews from the bottom of my heart. This was by far my favorite chapter to make for this story so far, I guess I just love the lighthearted things. :)

"Shepard," Miranda said with a warning tone as she watched the woman standing over the glass tank with glee etched across her face, "you're not seriously considering purchasing that, are you?"

Shepard looked up, surprise in her eyes. She studied Miranda for a moment, as though trying to work out if her XO was serious or not. Miranda most certainly was. They were on the Citadel, having been summoned by one David Anderson. Miranda had been reluctant to go along with the meeting. She thought it would be a far more productive use of their time to continue building their team rather than sitting through a conference of self serving alien politicians. Eventually, Shepard had convinced her that it could never hurt to have the council on their good side.

Now that they were actually on the Citadel however, Miranda was quickly regretting her agreement. She had made an offhand comment when they had arrived. Miranda had pulled Shepard aside and told her that perhaps it would be a good idea to purchase a personal item or two. Nothing extravagant, but something small to pass the long hours between missions. It would be a good way to relax and forget about the pressures of the mission and her own fragile state of mind for at least some of the time.

Shepard had taken to the idea wholeheartedly, which Miranda had at first taken as a good thing. However, she had quickly started cursing herself for even mentioning the idea. Suddenly they were on an all day shopping spree, feeding fish to Krogans, saving Quarians, and shoving a racist Volus about.

It was supposed to have been an in and out affair, and it didn't help that Shepard had brought Garrus along. Shepard had been ecstatic when Archangel's identity had been revealed hardly a day earlier. Miranda was pleased the Turian seemed to improve Shepard's outlook so much, but it was getting rather annoying trailing behind the two of them like a third wheel while they cracked jokes like siblings.

Shepard swallowed, clearly reading Miranda's annoyance. "No?" she tried, uncertain what response would keep her out of trouble.

"Good." Miranda jerked her head towards the store exit. "Come on, we have work to do. Let's meet the councilor as quickly as possible so we can continue on to the next dossier."

With a heavy sigh Shepard stepped away from the display, trailing behind Miranda out the door, Garrus in her wake. Her old friend offered her a skeptical look, surprised she had given in so easily, and she gave him a wink in return. When Shepard had her eye on something, she was going to get it. Garrus knew there would be a new addition to the team indeed, if not in the way Miranda was hoping.

"Do you have a minute, Miranda?"

Miranda glanced up from her desk at where Shepard stood in her doorway, leaning against the opening with a sheepish expression etched across her features. It had not even been half an hour since they had returned to the ship. They were still docked at the Citadel; she couldn't even fathom what had gone wrong in so short a time. Suspicious, Miranda offered a curt nod. "Perhaps," she replied cautiously. "It depends on what you need."

Shepard laughed nervously. "I assure you, it is of the upmost importance."

"I told you, Shepard," Miranda griped as she got on her hands and knees to take a more involved look under the sofa in the captain's cabin. "A warship is no place for pets." There was a muffled sound from under the desk where Shepard was currently searching, and Miranda rolled her eyes in response. "I can't hear you, Shepard."

The woman moved to get up, but rose too early and slammed her head on the bottom of the furniture. She cried out in pain, and Miranda found she could not help but snicker. It served Shepard right for going against her orders like that; sometimes there really was justice in the universe. Shepard recovered a bit and sat crossed legged on the floor, rubbing the top of her head with a soothing hand. "I said that you told me to find things that I would consider soothing. And I'm not the one who installed the giant fish tank."

Miranda straightened up, having had no luck on her search. "Fish can't escape," she reminded in a cold voice. "And I meant things that would take your mind off your dreams. Things that can capture your attention and focus, like books or films or models or-"

Shepard tilted her head, interest peaked. "Models?"

"Yes," Miranda sighed out, running a hand through her now rather unkempt hair. "Things that don't bite or defecate under the furniture."

Shepard looked almost offended at the idea. "Chubbs would never be so vulgar; he is a hamster of great intellect."

Miranda was about to respond when EDI's voice filled the cabin. "Commander, Mordin would like to inform you that he has just witnessed a rodent in the tech lab."

Shepard shot Miranda a smug grin. "See? He's doing science things."

Miranda groaned.

Shepard had departed later that day, just before they were scheduled to take off. She came back laden with boxes, and Miranda found herself hoping that model building was not too expensive of a hobby as she took in the large load.

Joker was just setting them off along their way to Purgatory when EDI's voice penetrated the silence as Miranda worked in her cabin. "The commander would like to open a communication, Operative Lawson."

Miranda glanced up, confused. Shepard had proven she was more inclined to visit someone in person rather than speak over the intercom systems about the ship. It didn't bother Miranda either way; she just hoped this didn't mean something was amiss. "Thank you, EDI. Let her through."

"Miranda?" Shepard's voice sounded normal, thankfully. She didn't seem distressed at all. Maybe a little uncomfortable, yes, but hardly the tone of somebody caught in the throes of emotional turmoil.

"What do you need, Shepard?" she responded evenly, leaning back in her chair as she waited in genuine interest for a reply.

"Nothing, it's just," she trailed off, her insecurity filling Miranda's cabin.

"What?" Miranda crossed her arms, curiosity beyond peaked at this point.

"Models are hard."

Miranda rolled her eyes, chastising herself for spending one moment thinking the interruption could have been anything other than Shepard acting like a child. "Are you kidding me?"

"Wouldn't you rather have Garrus up here?" Miranda asked idly as she pried the two pieces in her hands apart with careful fingers. Apparently Shepard had gotten frustrated and jammed the thrusters of the fake ship into the cockpit in a fit of poorly contained rage.

Shepard shrugged from where she sat at the desk beside her XO, looking on with interest. "His big man talons don't have the necessary finesse." She laughed as Miranda tapped the pieces on the desk top to try and make them easier to dislodge. "This is delicate work, after all."

"Mmm," Miranda hummed in agreement as the structure finally came loose at her primitive approach. She glanced around at the dozens of miniscule parts scattered over the surface before them. "You do realize this was just a suggestion, right? I didn't mean you had to exhaust our funds on every type of model as soon as possible."

Shepard gave a tired sigh, cupping her chin with the palm of her hand in a show of mock remorse. "In my defense it seemed like a fantastic idea at the time."

"Perhaps you could have found something that was actually feasible for you," Miranda offered slyly as she scanned the pieces on the table.

Shepard let out a loud laugh, pleasantly surprised at the almost playful tone of Miranda's voice. "Are you implying my building skills are below par?"

With a raised eyebrow Miranda held up another couple of pieces Shepard had gotten her hands on, a right wing shoved through a cargo bay. She considered the structure in her hands for a moment and offered a wry smile. "Not in the slightest."

"Well," Shepard said with a pleased grin. "You'll have to show me how it's done then."

Miranda looked surprised, though she didn't comment on the statement. Instead she turned her attention back to the mess in front of them, hands quickly sorting through the pieces in front of her. They worked in near silence for quite some time as their ship carried them closer and closer to their next destination. Shepard proved more competent at the task than Miranda had originally pegged her as, though she was far better suited for the task. The problem Shepard most faced was being unable to find anything, refusing as she did to do any organizing.

It became almost a source of pride for Miranda, as they worked on the shared task. Watching Shepard work, function like a proper human, it made her sit a bit straighter. Of course she had these thoughts when she watched the woman at work on the battlefield, but that was hardly the time to truly consider them. Now, there were no bullets to get in the way. There was just Shepard, sitting, breathing, muscles working and mind whizzing as she worked on the delicate project before her. It was such a far cry from the disgusting slab of meat and tendons Miranda had been handed two years ago, it was beautiful, and she was the cause of it.

"I had the dream last night, but it was different." Shepard had said the words so quickly that when they cut through the silence Miranda dropped the small observation window in her hand onto the desk, startled.

She swallowed, regaining her composure as she picked up the piece again. "Different how?"

Shepard kept her focus on the model, never even glancing at the woman next to her as she spoke. "Not a lot, just some changing," she hesitated, "variables. I thought maybe you could," Shepard paused again. "I dunno, help me figure out what it means."

Miranda scoffed, though it wasn't a genuine sound. "I would have to know the original dream to be of any use, I'm afraid."

Shepard ducked her head. "I know." She was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room the slow and constant squeak of Chubbs running in his wheel behind them. "It's not really a dream. There are no messages or hidden regrets. It's just what happened." Shepard shook her head. "It's what happened over and over and over again."

Miranda contemplated that for a moment, trying to work out the best course of action. Shepard needed to deal with the trauma if she intended to move on from it. "Tell me about it," she said, though she had watched the footage of the attack a thousand times over. The retelling was for Shepard's sake, not for hers.

"Well, I'm on the Normandy, and her alarms start going crazy. I'm suiting up, just in case the worst happens." Shepard paused, letting out a bitter chuckle. "Lot of good that did, huh?" Miranda said nothing, so she continued, successfully fitting the miniature hull together as she spoke. "Liara's there, trying to convince me to get to the escape pods. I go after Joker though."

Miranda fiddled with the portside wing in her hands, trying to appear nonchalant. "Do you think about her often?"

Shepard stiffened for a moment, and it took a heavy sigh before she relaxed. "I dunno. We've been going nonstop since I woke up, there hasn't been a lot of time to sit down and ponder life." Miranda hummed in amusement as she listened. "I talked to Garrus about her, but he didn't seem to know much of anything. I guess everyone did just go their separate ways once I was out of the picture."

A feeling of guilt washed over Miranda. She had had contact with the Asari, could easily go behind the Illusive Man's back and track her down if she felt so inclined. Still, she followed orders and bit her tongue. Shepard would be reunited with Liara when the head of Cerberus deemed it was appropriate. Whether Miranda agreed with it or not, that was the way things were. "Does that bother you?"

Shepard's fingers paused in their work as she seriously contemplated the question. "Maybe. Everyone might not have been the best of friends, but the things we did together," she trailed off, lost in the emotions of the past. "We were family. I never felt so connected with a squad before; the Normandy became a home with all of us there. I guess I had just hoped that even with me out of the picture, those bonds would hold true. They knew the Reapers were still coming, they should have stayed committed to the cause, our cause, in my honor, just as I would have done for them." Shepard shook her head. "Maybe I was just fooling myself, maybe they didn't feel the same." She looked crestfallen for a moment before she took a deep breath and turned her head towards Miranda, a playfully smug grin across her lips. "I won't pretend it isn't a bit of an ego boost though, knowing the show couldn't possibly go on without me."

Miranda surprised herself by actually laughing at that. "No, I suppose that's why I was called in."

Shepard chuckled as she fit the final piece into place, looking down at the fruits of her labor with a smile. They had split the work, Shepard taking care of the front end of the model cruiser while Miranda focused on the back. "Take a look at that." She waved her half in front of Miranda's face. Miranda glanced down at her own unfinished side; she had been listening so intently she had fallen way behind. Shepard laughed at the sight. "All talk I see."

Miranda rolled her eyes, getting back to it with renewed vigor. No way was she about to be outdone. Shepard watched on in amusement as she tried to finish as quickly as possible, something that Miranda found rather unnerving. She felt odd with Shepard sitting so closely beside her, offering undivided attention. Clearing her throat, Miranda brought them back to the topic at hand. "So, what are the differences?"

Shepard leaned lazily on the desk, mind wandering as she watched Miranda's fingers nimbly maneuvering the pieces before her. "Differences?"

"In the dreams," Miranda reminded, glancing up from her project to find Shepard's gaze met hers instantly. She swallowed, unnerved by the sudden wave of heat that seemed to descend upon the room, and quickly looked away.

Hesitating for a moment, Shepard gave a noncommittal shrug. "Yeah, I dunno, it seems stupid now." She let out an awkward sounding laugh, cheeks tinged pink. "It probably doesn't mean anything at all."

"Well," Miranda let out in a heavy breath, frustrated with the woman's continued reservations, "I can't force you to tell me." She snapped the last piece into place, and extended it towards Shepard confidently. "There you are."

Shepard took it and gently started to fit it together with her own section. "Thanks," she said genuinely as she molded all of the pieces into one another securely. "For this, and for letting it go." She glanced at Miranda for a moment. "Maybe if it happens again tonight," she trailed off, and refocused on her work. Finally, it all snapped together. Triumphant, she held it up for Miranda to get a decent look. "There we go, the perfect fit."

Miranda raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the packaging, noticing the age limit for the first time. "Nice to know we're as competent as sixteen year olds."

Shepard looked offended. "Excuse me, it says sixteen and up. We are up, my friend."

Miranda paused at the word friend. The rational part of her mind knew it was merely a figure of speech; Shepard was just being her usual overly friendly self. That didn't stop it from sounding almost pleasant though. Shaking her head, Miranda stood and stretched. "We certainly are. Just try to relax for the rest of the time, Shepard, we don't know what we're going to find when we reach Purgatory."

"Yes, mom," Shepard deadpanned, grinning as the comment earned a scoff. Miranda left for the elevator, leaving Shepard to her own thoughts as she waited for word from Joker saying they had arrived.

A ship full of prisoners, it certainly sounded like quite an adventure.