A/N: Oh my gosh you guys are the sweetest. I was referring to the article writing I do for my job, these stories on here are just a silly little stress-relieving hobby, but I can't tell you how much your kind words helped anyway. Thank you guys, really, you don't know how grateful I am. I want to be better for you all, so no more personal whining and moaning about work. Good things from here on out, lot's o' fluff an' stuff. I want to get back to a chapter a day so I'll do my best from here on out to stick to my word.

I'm aware of all the creative liberties I'm taking, which is the fancy term for 'I am super lazy and I am sorry'. Anywho, switching up the cause of Miranda's loyalty mission a bit because it suits me, hope ya don't mind. If ya do…well…lighten up we're having fun :p

She had stepped into the transmitter in the com room exuding confidence. Her presence had been requested, but the reason remained unspecified. In her heart, Miranda knew what was coming, but she would never let her nervous energy show on her face. She would be calm, self-assured. She wouldn't let herself be intimidated.

The words meant a whole lot less when she was actually facing the man down, feeling the disappointment in his gaze even through the fuzzy transmission. "Miranda." There was a lengthy pause as the Illusive Man took a leisurely drag from the cigarette between his fingers, and Miranda's heart sank in response. A cold feeling of dread washed over her. He was cold, stern, not playing the little games she was used to seeing from him so often. Something was displeasing to him, and she was going to take the fall. "I've been hearing disturbing reports of late."

She swallowed. It was not yet an accusation; there was still time for bravado. "Oh?" Miranda was sure to give off an overwhelming air of disinterest. Her posture practically radiated the point; she had had many years of practice. It was just another tool for her, a turn of the hips and a pull of the shoulders that screamed her time was far too valuable for another to be wasting.

"It would appear that not everything is going as planned. Funny, the things I have heard seem to conflict with your own reports. Of course you would know far better than to skew any data crossing my desk. Still, the facts just do not appear to add up. I can't imagine why that would be." There it was, the accusation.

Miranda bristled slightly, feeling defensive. "Perhaps you need to find more reliable sources of information." She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. They were rude, rebellious even. Miranda had surprised even herself by saying them. Insubordination had never really been her thing.

If he was bothered by the unusual display, the Illusive Man didn't show it. "It seems I do." He idly twirled the shrinking butt between his fingers, and she knew the situation was hopeless. She had been found out, there really was no way to recover. "Tell me," his eyes met hers as he spoke, their cold detachment chilling her even through the projection, "how is our fearless savior?"

It was over, she accepted that fact. Still, Miranda would be damned if she was the one who had to admit it first. If the Illusive Man had a claim to make he was welcome to do it, she would not be bullied into groveling. Briefly, she wondered where this sudden defiance had come from. After a moment, she decided it was undoubtedly Shepard who was to blame. "Shepard's progress has been impressive. All candidates for recruitment have thus far been collected without fail and-"

"Don't play games with me, Lawson." His voice was dark, dangerous. It took every ounce of Miranda's willpower not to visibly recoil. "Whatever is going on with the asset, fix it, immediately. One more mishap and I think you'll find there will be major changes in your little project." Miranda's breath hitched. "And if things don't turn out as expected I can assure you that you won't be the only one facing the repercussions. Never forget that, Miranda."

A flash of protectiveness surged through Miranda. To bring Oriana into the discussion, even indirectly, was hitting way too far below the belt for her tastes. She felt her body trembling, though it was out of barely contained ire rather than fear.

"Do I make my meaning clear, Operative?"

Her fist clenched at her sides. "Perfectly."

Miranda paced about her cabin, her hair an unkempt mess with the sheer amount of times her fingers had journeyed through it. She hated herself in that moment. No, hate was too weak a word. Despised. Loathed.

What had she protected by lying all those weeks ago when Shepard had first risen? She had claimed the project had gone off without a hitch when it oh so clearly had not. What had she gained? Had she been protecting her pride? Her credibility? Her experiment? Her place on the mission? No, none of those things, not really. It had been Shepard herself.

At first she had been protecting Shepard from scrutiny, as a project, a two year investment. Miranda had wanted to pretend she had been perfect, and then quickly right the situation to make it so. Nothing had gone according to plan however, and soon it became clear that Shepard's issues might not be something she could fix. Shepard was clearly broken, and still Miranda had maintained her lie even when all hope of coming up with some magical cure had vanished from her mind.

Why? Because Shepard was her responsibility, her assignment. Because when the Illusive Man received word of her failure he might have taken her off the project. Because that meant somebody else would have been sent in to replace her, someone who had little sympathy for Shepard or her situation. It would have been someone who didn't care. That was why, that was the reason. She had been protecting Shepard, and now it could easily be Oriana who paid the price.

The Illusive Man had certainly skirted around the issue, but they had developed a healthy understanding of one another over the years. She knew the way he operated, it wasn't necessary for him to spell his intentions out for her. Miranda knew what the threat was; she knew how quickly she could lose everything that mattered because of an idiotic breach of trust. She had to get Shepard under control, fix her, or he would reprimand her in the only way that would truly affect her.

Oriana.

Oriana was it, the one person that had actually been worth protecting in the first place. That was Miranda's reason, her purpose in life. She had lost sight of that somewhere along the way, and she had nobody to blame but herself…and maybe Shepard, because Shepard could never just calm down. Always a problem, there was always some sort of trigger. She always had to collapse upon herself at the slightest provocation. She couldn't handle one bloody mission without freaking out and now everything was crumbling to pieces.

Fucking Shepard.

And then she was there, standing in Miranda's doorway, not a care in the world. She looked so weak, so frail and fragile. Her face was pale and her eyes were dull and Miranda was struck with the sudden realization that there was no way in the world she could pull this off. She couldn't fix Shepard, couldn't help her in the ways she so clearly needed, and she sincerely doubted anyone on the ship could. It would be impossible to make the kind of headway that was now being demanded of her in the circumstances they continually found themselves in.

Shepard was looking at Miranda warily, as if she could sense the turmoil, feel the uncertainty and fear. "Miranda," she tried quietly, "I wanted to apologize about what happened out there." She smiled dimly. "There was just that flash and then the wind and-"

"You couldn't just hold it together for once?" Miranda snapped. Her gaze was murderous and her words like daggers laced with exasperation. "Enough with the excuses. It's always because it was too bright or too dark, too hot and then too cold. That's being alive, Shepard. That's it. Everyone does it, we all manage. We're not going to coddle you until all the bad feelings go away."

Shepard stood silent, jaw clenched. Her mouth opened for a moment, as though she meant to speak, and then it snapped shut.

"You were dead and it was awful and it hurt but now it's over. You're back and you're alive and you have responsibilities and you can't just-" Miranda made an unintelligible sound as her hands flew up to her face in frustration. She needed to calm down, to reign in her emotions and remind herself that it wasn't Shepard she was frustrated with. "I just need some time alone right now."

"What?" Miranda could hear the hurt in her voice, but found she couldn't stand to look in Shepard's direction to gauge the expression on her face.

"I need you to leave."

So Shepard did just that.

Miranda sat at her desk, head in hands, mind racing. There was no guarantee she could improve the state of things, she had probably only aggravated Shepard's mindset further by being so cold, which would do nothing but make the situation worse. Not only that, but now she had to carry the guilt around of knowing she had been properly unfair. Shepard had no way of knowing the chain reaction she had set off, and really when it came down to it, Miranda was the true beginning of the problem. She had lied, and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass.

She had to figure this out. Worst case scenario, Oriana's location was turned into easily accessible information and Miranda was removed from her post on the Normandy to be replaced with someone else. Her entire world was being threatened. The Illusive Man had given her an ultimatum, but she found she wasn't confident in her abilities to secure the results he desired. Shepard was improving yes, she genuinely believed that, but there was no way to say if she would ever return to her old self one hundred percent. Oriana hung in the balance, there was no way she could leave that up to chance.

She would have to take a risk, a drastic move, one that involved going behind the Illusive Man's back once more, and she'd need the help of a few friends both old and new.

It was with a heavy heart that Miranda rode the elevator up to the captain's cabin. Her own nervousness threatened to consume her. Shepard had every right to be upset with her, to deny her entry and push her away. And then there was everything with Oriana. She had to ask Shepard for a favor after being a complete ass, and first she had to apologize. If she were totally honest with herself, she felt a bit nauseous. Suddenly for some reason the thought of Shepard believing she was apologizing merely to coax a favor out of the woman was one she couldn't bear.

She stepped through the doors into the room to find Shepard standing at the bottom of the cabin's few stairs, clearly waiting for her since she had sent word of her arrival ahead with EDI. Miranda hesitated as soon as she crossed the threshold, overwhelmed with anxiety. Shepard had an unreadable expression on her face, and it was maddening.

When it became apparent Miranda was hesitant to speak, Shepard kindly tried to offer an easy segue into conversation. "EDI said it was important?"

Miranda took a step forward, emboldened by the lack of animosity in her words, but her wary nature quickly caught up with her and she faltered, sidetracking to small talk. "I didn't ask before, did you get everything sorted out okay?"

Shepard looked more than a little confused at the inane question, but she offered a small smile nonetheless. "Yeah, I had a talk with Jack." She hesitated, chuckling quietly, "Well, as much of a talk as one can have with Jack. We've been getting closer and I think the whole thing sorta freaked her out." Shepard shook her head, looking a bit embarrassed at the idea of being looked up to in any sort of way. "She'd never admit it of course, but I have a feeling I kinda shook her faith a bit." There was a pause for a moment, and then she continued. "Garrus was fine, just concerned. Chakwas gave me a talking to though. A bit upset that I never found time to confide in her about everything."

Miranda's gaze fell to the floor as a wave of guilt swept through her. "I suppose I should apologize about that. I know you wanted to keep our discussions private."

"It's fine," Shepard cut her off quickly. "I trust Chakwas, and I know you only told her the things you had to." A sour look crossed her face. "It's not like the whole crew isn't spreading rumors anyhow. It doesn't really matter anymore."

"Still," Miranda took a step closer, knowing she had much more to apologize for, "it was unfair to you. I," she hesitated, wracking her brain for the right thing to say. "About before, Shepard," she faltered once more.

As Miranda struggled to find the proper words, Shepard beat her to the punch. She was looking down at the floor, digging her hands into her pockets. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Miranda felt her entire being soften, and any fears she had arrived with dissolved into obscurity. There was something about Shepard that was so pure. She was good, plain and simple. A good person to her very core. She wasn't mad at Miranda for snapping, she was only hurt and worried that whatever was going on, she might have somehow been the cause. "No," she said softly. "I got myself in trouble, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Shepard."

It was odd how easily the apology came. That had never happened for Miranda before. Usually they were said in bitterness, something she had to do to get whatever it was she needed from the person, simple manipulation. Now though, she meant the words with every bit of herself. She owned the mistake, claimed it for herself, and did so gladly so long as it soothed Shepard's mind.

"Don't worry about it." Shepard waved it away dismissively. "You were right. There's too much riding on me. I can't live the rest of my life like this, especially when I have all of you to think about. I could be risking all of your lives if I make a mistake like that on a mission again." She turned her head away, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm lucky you were there to take over for me. I introduced myself to Thane earlier, and it sounds like things wouldn't have ended so well without you. Thank you."

Miranda shifted, crossing her arms in front of her chest almost protectively. She wasn't used to such sincere gratitude from a superior. Any praise she received was usually because they had another job lined up that they were trying to sweet talk her into performing. Shepard had no ulterior motive though, she meant every word. "Well, that is my job," Miranda managed awkwardly, unable to come up with anything more sincere. She found she felt increasingly more out of her element with every private encounter they shared.

There was a wry smile on Shepard's face at the woman's response, and she shook her head. "Of course." She wavered for a moment, seemingly debating if the question on the tip of her tongue was appropriate or not. Finally, she caught Miranda's eye. "So can you talk about what is going on? Or is it some top secret Cerberus crap?"

Miranda recoiled slightly, unconsciously pulling her arms more tightly around herself. "Actually," she replied carefully, "it's a personal thing."

"Oh," Shepard rubbed at the back of her neck at the revelation and winced as she agitated the still tender wounds she had forgotten Chakwas had warned her about earlier. Her hand dropped quickly and Miranda offered her a sympathetic look. "Come sit down," she said at length, and moved over to the couches while Miranda followed.

Shepard was leaning forward in her seat, gazing over at Miranda expectantly, offering complete and total undivided attention. It was a reassuring sight, it filled Miranda with a sort of comfort she hadn't experienced before. The way Shepard was looking at her, it was as though whatever she asked for, whatever she needed, it would be hers without question. It felt safe.

"Do you remember what I told you about my genetic modifications?" Shepard nodded immediately, motioning for Miranda to continue. "Well there's more to it."

Shepard listened in silence as Miranda informed her about her father, never interrupting or saying a word as all of the bits and pieces of information she had been collecting over their time together were expanded upon at last. Miranda never said it out loud, but Shepard caught on to the main point of the tale, The Illusive Man had lost a bit of trust, and now Miranda needed to ensure her sister was safe.

"Okay." Shepard leaned back in her seat, nodding.

"Okay?" Miranda seemed skeptical, which lead Shepard to bark out a laugh.

"Yes, okay." She looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I know this is supposed to be a simple thing, but you know I like to have a third, it's not smart to move around in two man groups. Who do you want on this? Jacob?"

Miranda bit her bottom lip, a sudden bought of self consciousness overwhelming her. "Well," she glanced away, "I thought we have been doing fairly well working with Garrus. We seem to move the most efficiently with him."

Shepard was beaming at the admission. "Well I'll talk to him in the morning then, see if he has any complaints."

Miranda glanced up at her, affection for the woman flooding through her so suddenly it was disconcerting. "Thank you, Shepard. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

Sobering up quickly, Shepard looked away. "Well, I haven't done anything yet. Why don't you hold that thought until after we've succeeded, eh?"