A/N:Oh my gosh you guys, your reviews are so very kind sometimes I can't even believe it. I'm so very glad you are having fun with me! Let us carry on my lovelies.

It's been brought up multiple times now so, yes, there will be a lair of the shadow broker chapter(s?) and bits and pieces have already been written a few days ago so no worries there. Anywho, this was supposed to be two chapters of silliness but I mashed it into one big one. I think they would have felt a bit cheap separated, considering they're filled with cheap gags, so hopefully I solved that by combining them.

Shepard moved into the room quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. It was second nature to her at this point, something she did whenever she visited the observation room to speak with its inhabitant. She wasn't sure how Samara would react if she ever had one of her little episodes, but she didn't want to find out.

"Shepard," Samara's serene voice sounded, breaking the woman out of her musings, "you are troubled."

Lips quirking up into a smirk, Shepard moved forward. When she reached the meditating asari, she sat down beside her, crossing her legs and making sure she was turned far enough towards her friend to avoid getting a significant view of the window. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"I can feel unease in the air around you," Samara offered cryptically by way of explanation as the blue haze of biotic aura surrounding her vanished. She turned her head to scrutinize the much younger woman. "Where do you find your thoughts?"

Shepard chuckled heartily, leaning forward. "All over the place." She shook her head, bemused at the current state of affairs. It really was ridiculous. There were the Geth and the Collectors and the Reapers, and yet she found herself moping about the ship as she lamented the complications of her love life. Or, if she were being honest, lack thereof.

Still, try as she might to focus on the big picture, her foolish indulgences felt important. She was captivated by Miranda, she wanted to learn more, to delve deeper. It felt right, like it made sense.

Shaking her head, Shepard cleared her throat. "I came to hear you out though, so it hardly matters. What's on your mind, Samara?"

Samara seemed to be sizing Shepard up with a piercing gaze. It made the commander want to pull away, to hide herself and burry all of her deepest secrets far from reach. There was so much wisdom in those eyes, so much understanding of life. In that moment, Shepard was sure there wasn't a question in the universe Samara didn't know the answer to.

"Why do you do what you do, Shepard?" Samara asked quietly. "Why does this ship combat the Collectors?"

Shepard's brow furrowed as she tried to catch the asari's meaning. How could that even be a question? "To protect the colonists from being taken. To stop the Collectors from being able to aid the Reapers in any way."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Samara's face for only a moment before vanishing. "Why resist the Reapers?"

Shepard's face scrunched up in absolute confusion at that. "To protect all known life in the universe?"

Samara nodded. "Do you ever resent them, Shepard? All of the people you lay your life on the line to defend, do you ever watch them scurrying around with their mundane tasks and become filled with anger?"

Blinking at the abrupt change of topic, Shepard felt a rush of guilt flood her. Of course she had, it was near impossible not to. She had dedicated her life to the Alliance, had put her soul into protecting civilians and did so with pride. Sometimes though, she'd overhear a conversation. Sometimes a bratty teenage girl would be talking a classmate down in a cafe or a man would be complaining about how boring he found his job and hot blood would pump through her veins as she struggled to bite her tongue because she had long since lost count of how many bodies she'd seen, how many lives had been taken before her eyes. They had no idea how much was sacrificed to keep them safe, they were stuck in a world full of trivial events that they constantly claimed were important.

Samara did not wait for a response, it seemed as though she had known the answer before she had even formed the question. "Out here in the vast abyss of space, civilization often feels inconsequential, does it not? And yet, that is why we remain. We protect our kin and their right to the mundane. For children to go to school, for mothers to shop, for everyone to gossip, we lay down our lives. Reading, writing, experiencing, talking, laughing, those are the things we protect, the things worth saving."

She paused, her eyes flickering to the window she sat in front of, taking in the view with silent admiration as though it were her first time witnessing the universe's beauty. "I have travelled for many years, Shepard. Sometimes I have lost sight of that truth. It is my wish that you do not."

Shepard stared on silently, unsure of how to react. She felt honored at the sentiment. Someone like Samara offering such words so freely truly was a humbling experience. Still, she found herself just a bit lost. How they had broached this topic, she was not quite sure.

"Many have found that though it may feel indulgent, engaging in the very privileges you seek to protect can strengthen one's resolve."

Head tilted to the side with obvious curiosity, Shepard finally spoke. "I find that to be an odd sentiment, coming from someone who willingly relinquished all material possessions."

Samara was smiling now. "I spoke from the point of view of a soldier, not of my own, though I do find my own truth in those words. I do not know what troubles you, Shepard, but I hope something soon grants you peace." Her head turned so that her eyes could once again find Shepard's. "Now, as to why I have requested your presence…"

Getting Morinth's attention had been the easy part. Shepard was chivalrous and bold, nothing out of the ordinary. It was day to day stuff up until the asari beckoned her over. That's when the real challenge hit.

Shepard was rather charismatic, she could charm almost anyone into following her led, and yet when it came to the subtleties of romantic encounters, she usually found herself floundering. She was a soldier; it hardly came naturally to her. That was one of the reasons she had always believed Liara and her had been drawn together, they were equally awkward in their advances.

"Why don't you come sit with me?" Morinth asked her, her words laced with suggestive intent. "I've got a booth over here in the shadows."

"Woah," Shepard chuckled, awkwardly. Already she felt out of her element, like she was walking into something she would never be prepared for. "How ominous," she murmured to herself quietly.

They spoke for a bit, and Shepard tried her hardest to drop the names of everything she learned from their miniature investigation earlier, but it was difficult to discuss topics she knew nothing about. Luckily, Morinth seemed so absorbed in her own mutterings about power and strength that she hardly noticed how often Shepard was stumbling over her words and trailing off.

Somehow, she managed to pull it off convincingly enough that Morinth lead her back to the apartment she was staying in. Shepard could only pray that Samara was close behind.

Miranda glanced up, more than a little taken aback at the identity of her current guests. Garrus and Tali stood before her desk, looking very out of place in her cabin. Never before had either of them willing sought her presence, and though her relationship with Garrus had been fairly affable thus far, Tali had made her distrust known. It wasn't something Miranda found she could fault the quarian for either.

"What can I do for you?" She tried carefully, scanning their postures subtly for any inclination of aggression or anger. Though it happened infrequently, the few times she had been with other members of their squad without Shepard present they had been more forward with any feelings of animosity.

Okay, so maybe that was mostly Jack, but still, it never hurt to be cautious.

It was Garrus who spoke up. This had been Tali's idea, but she had warned him beforehand that she would not be asking Miranda for any personal favors anytime soon. "What is Shepard doing?"

Miranda stiffened, she hadn't even been thinking about that. She was so caught up in her own feelings that when Joker announced their touchdown on Omega she hardly gave it a second thought. Naturally, assuming that Shepard would hardly be asking her along on any missions after their little display of deplorable self control, she reasoned that Shepard had merely been doing whatever Samara had bid entailed and decided to leave her behind.

"I believe Samara had a request for her," she tried after a moment.

Tali noticeably reacted to the statement while Garrus let out something akin to a groan. "We know that, yes." He seemed to hesitate. "She didn't say what it was though?"

Miranda pursed her lips, loathe to admit she had not been informed about their even being a mission, let alone what it involved. "She didn't," she admitted after a moment. "Is there something I should be concerned about?"

Garrus and Tali shared a look before the turian answered. "No," he shifted about on his feet, sounding less than confident in his response. "We just asked if she needed any backup and her responses were pretty vague. I've never seen her leave without a full squad before, but it was probably just a quick-"

That caught Miranda's attention. "Who's groundside?"

"Samara and Shepard." There was a short silence. "You didn't know?"

It was then that Tali decided to speak up. "I thought everything went through you?"

The challenge in the question was clear, and Miranda found herself having to bite back a defensive retort. With a steadying breath, she spoke out, ignoring Tali's obvious attitude altogether, "EDI?"

Ever reliable, the AI responded instantly, "Yes, Operative Lawson?"

"What did Samara and Shepard discuss earlier in the observation room?" She tried not to let her concern creep through into her words.

"The Commander and Samara discussed a personal issue," EDI responded dutifully, if not sounding a tad evasive.

Miranda blinked. Could an AI be evasive? "Which was?" she pressed.

There was an unexpected pause before she received a reply. "Samara wished the topic to remain private."

Miranda's eyes narrowed at the blatant insubordination being expressed, by a machine no less. Tali did little to try and hide her snicker. "EDI," she said warningly, fighting to keep hold of what little patience she had left, "tell me what we are doing on Omega."

Again, there was a short wait before EDI almost reluctantly responded, as her programming forced her to follow any of Miranda's commands. "Samara requested Shepard's assistance in detaining a criminal by offering herself as bait. It was her belief that this particular individual would find the commander enticing enough to be lulled into submission to ease her capture."

Miranda felt a stab of anger as she recognized that the AI was still obviously trying to keep information from her. Before she could press further however, Garrus decided to interrupt, "Wait, like a seduction mission?" He looked positively mortified.

"Precisely," EDI replied in her usual melodic manner.

"Is that a problem?" Miranda pressed, growing concerned at Garrus' clear unease.

"Samara was looking for help with a seduction mission and she went to Shepard? Commander Shepard." He looked like he was caught between wanting to laugh and cry. "Clearly Samara is new here."

Miranda's brow furrowed in confusion. "Do you think there will be a problem?"

Tali let out a laugh. "Shepard can handle herself, she'll be fine. I just hope Samara wasn't looking for her to be successful in her, uh, endeavor."

Garrus chuckled. "Our commander may be a good shot, but she's not much of a smooth talker."

Well, after the display only a few hours earlier Miranda could certainly attest to that.

Shepard squirmed in her seat, as things were quickly getting out of hand. Morinth was close, dangerously close, and she was getting suspicious. Samara should have busted in by now, and Shepard's obvious reluctance to engage in any physical activity was clearly confusing the asari.

Morinth pushed harder, moving onto Shepard's lap, pinning her onto the couch between her thighs. Her arms trailed up along Shepard's neck and she drew closer, their breath mingling in the air between them.

"Why don't we uh, talk for a bit?" Shepard tried quickly. "I like talking, talking is good. So where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't." Morinth's lips were on her neck, and she all but squeaked in alarm.

"Right of course, hence the talking thing. Clearly we should do more of that." She tried to pull away, offering a slight chuckle. "After all, I'd like to know you as a person."

"Actually," Morinth pulled back, eyes narrowed with a smug smirk on her face, "I was looking more for a one night type of deal."

"Right, okay, yeah. Me too, of course." Shepard flushed. "That's me, love em' and leave em'. Yup."

It was obvious that her host was growing irritated with the constant interruptions. "Why don't we talk about something a little sexier?"

Her fingers trailed along the bottom of Shepard's uniform top, and she panicked. "You know, uh, you know what I think is sexy?" She asked frantically, keeping the top pinned down with trembling hands. "Wearing clothes. Mmm, yup. That's good."

Morinth paused for a moment, looking almost bewildered before her expression hardened once more. There would be no access into the woman's mind unless she were relaxed and willing. "You seem a little tense." She dismounted Shepard, who then sighed in relief as quietly as she could manage. Morinth went over to the table by the couch and returned quickly, "Hallex?"

Shepard glanced down at the offering, hating everything about this entire situation.

Worst.

Mission.

Ever.

By far.

She knew she needed to stay alert, but not an hour ago she had been sitting beside Morinth in the club raving about how much she enjoyed Hallex and how often she used it. If she said no now, she could be in serious trouble with no way to defend herself. If Morinth got suspicious she could kill her with her biotics in a second, Shepard would not stand a chance. Her only hope was to put her faith in Samara.

And so, she said yes.

"Hands are like the weirdest," Shepard said serenely as Morinth relieved her of her top. She sat on the couch in her bra, completely oblivious to the danger she was in. "All of these different species and yet almost everyone's got two and they're all like woooooooah."

Morinth shook her head, annoyed. She preferred it so much more when her conquests were coherent; she relished the look in their eyes when they realized what was about to happen to them. Still, she wasn't so picky she'd pass up an opportunity that was so willingly presenting itself. "Why don't you just be quiet now," she said softly, positioning herself in Shepard's lap comfortably, "We're getting to the best part."

Shepard's face lit up in delight. "We are?" She looked around the room expectantly for something exciting. Best parts for her usually meant something sinister needed to be shot. Morinth ignored the childlike behavior, eyes darkening as she leaned in close.

Suddenly the door burst open and Shepard's savior arrived, though she had long forgotten she had been expecting one by that point. "Samara," she cried out, positively ecstatic. Her arms were thrown up in the air triumphantly at her friend's timely arrival, and she peered over Morinth's shoulder sporting a beaming smile. "You're so lucky you came just in time for the best part. I dunno what it is but I think it's going to be pretty fantastic."

Miranda was waiting in the CIC when Samara trudged in, supporting Shepard by the waist and practically dragging her along. Shepard appeared unharmed, yes, but something was clearly off. She stumbled as she was forced along, her gaze wandering about the room and a look of wonder in her eyes. When she noticed Miranda, she beamed warmly.

"You came out of your room," She shouted, exhilarated. Samara winced as the sound nearly shattered her eardrums with Shepard's proximity. "All hands on deck," she screeched.

Miranda's eyes widened. "Is she drunk?" She had never known Shepard to be so careless as to drink while trying to complete a mission. Shepard sniggered at the question, though Miranda was unsure why.

"Drunk in a funk like an unemployed skunk," she sang happily.

"Hallex," Samara said simply, grunting under Shepard's weight to encourage Miranda to give her a hand. "She'll be fine in a few hours, it just needs time to wear off."

Miranda stepped forward to assist the Justicar, moving to Shepard's free side and wrapping an arm around the woman's waist. Clearly feeling the opposite of shy, Shepard slung an arm around Miranda's shoulder, and Samara took the opportunity to slink away sneakily. Shepard had been positively grating on the journey back, and though she felt immense gratitude towards the woman she was absolutely dying to escape, at least until she had come back to her senses and they could converse properly. "Right so, if I were you I would bring her upstairs then," she said, backing towards the elevator quickly. "She needs rest."

Miranda's mouth fell open. "Wait but-" but the asari was long gone. She had been deserted with Shepard, and now she had to wait for the elevator to bring Samara to the lower deck and return back up to them on top of it.

Fantastic.

This went along just swimmingly with her plan to avoid Shepard for as long as she was humanly able. Honestly, things were getting beyond ridiculous. Obviously she wasn't a saint, but surely she had done nothing to deserve the intricate string of misfortune she had found herself tangled in of late. The only upside was that Shepard seemed unfazed by the development, so at least she would not be subjected to any awkward silences and meaningful pauses. She had quite enough of that, thank you.

The elevator was on its way back up to them when Shepard began her song. Miranda had no way of knowing then that it would be the first of many that evening. "Miranda's like a panda," she sang cheerily. "On my veranda, with lot's o' sand-da. Who's that?" She halted her tune abruptly, as though waiting for a reply, before she finished on a high note. "It's Miranda, and she can-da, do the stuff for her job."

Bloody fantastic.

"Why are the Reapers?" Shepard questioned mysteriously as Miranda dragged her into the captain's cabin with difficulty.

She groaned, it was just another in a long line of incoherent questioning she had suffered on the elevator journey up. "Why are the Reapers what?" Miranda said, humoring her charge reluctantly.

Shepard shrugged, gazing at the woman beside her intently. "Just why?"

Miranda blinked, and then sighed heavily. "I think it's time for bed, Shepard." She lead her over towards the lower area, making sure to take the descent down the short couple of steps slowly. She paused by the fish tank for just a moment to glare at the Paddle fish swimming peacefully inside.

Ah, my old adversaries.

She reached up with the arm that wasn't supporting Shepard and got an admittedly sick sense of pleasure by tapping the glass and watching them dart away in fear before moving on.

"I don't want to go to sleep," Shepard pouted as she was guided forward. "I want to stay up."

"Honestly, I don't really care what you do," Miranda shot back, as she dumped Shepard unceremoniously onto the mattress. "Just don't cause any trouble." She hated it, but she knew she would have to stay and keep an eye on Shepard until she either passed out or the drug wore off, she couldn't let the woman hurt herself. It was likely she was on thin ice as it was. The last thing she needed was to have to report back that Shepard had cracked her skull open after tripping over some furniture in her drugged up stupor.

"Trouble's my middle name, and there ain't nothing you can do about it." Shepard glared at her from where she lay sprawled on the mattress, the usual emotion found in her eyes hazed by the influence of Hallex in her system. It was almost unsettling to look at, reminiscent of the way Shepard looked in the moments she was taken back to the destruction of the original Normandy.

"Poor me," Miranda replied after collecting herself, rolling her eyes as she took a seat on the couch where she could keep an eye on the woman more comfortably.

Shepard sat up suddenly, glancing about the room as she remembered something that only held importance to herself. "Where's Morinth? We're gonna play a game."

Miranda crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Morinth?"

"Yeah, Samara's daughter." Shepard gave her a knowing look. "She's a little evil and is probably in the shadows."

Miranda raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat as she absorbed the information. "Well that's concerning." It was hardly her business to pry into now that the whole debacle was over and no harm had come to either of the woman involved, but Miranda could not help her curiosity. If Shepard was going to babble out every secret she had ever been trusted with in this state, Miranda was certainly not going to stop her.

"I'll say," Shepard responded sagely with a nod. "Do you ever sit in the shadows?"

She couldn't help but smile at the sincerity of the question. "I can't say it's my favorite pastime."

"No. I know what that is." Shepard's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Reports," She spat the word out as if it were a foul food. "All work and no play makes Miranda no fun."

That earned a chuckle. "Ouch."

"You're hurt?" Shepard's eyes were wide, her words filled with concern.

"No, Shepard." Miranda offered her a gentle smile. "Why don't you go ahead and lay down?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed and she sat cross legged on the bed, hands on her hips. "I lay down when I want to lay down."

"I'm sorry, my mistake," Miranda said sweetly with false sincerity.

Suddenly Shepard burst into a fit of laughter and fell onto her back. "Don't miss your steak," she screeched with gusto.

Miranda winced at the shrill sound. "Why don't we try using inside voices?"

Shepard ignored her and began humming happily to herself. Miranda suffered through the out of tune jingle for quite some time before Shepard stopped suddenly and lifted her head to glare at her. "Let me tell you a secret," she whispered conspiratorially.

With a shake of her head, Miranda leaned forward, figuring that with her luck lately if she didn't play along Shepard would throw a tantrum or something equal irritating. "What is it, Shepard?"

"Come here," she motioned frantically. "It's important."

"I'm fine over here, thanks," Miranda answered instantly, absolutely refusing to fall into that trap. No willingly walking into another disaster waiting to happen for her.

"No," Shepard practically wailed at the rejection. "You have to listen to me."

And there was the tantrum.

Groaning, Miranda stood and moved over until she sat on the edge of the mattress. "What?"

"What?" Shepard tilted her head confused.

"What is it?" Miranda pressed.

"What is what?" Shepard looked excited at the prospect of learning something new.

Miranda took a deep breath, reminding herself to be patient, that Shepard wasn't in her right mind and throttling her wouldn't be a smart thing to do. Satisfying, yes, but not smart. "What is the secret?" she clarified as calmly as she could.

Shepard's face lit up with uncontained enthusiasm. "There's a secret?" She shouted out.

"I hate you so much," Miranda murmured quietly to herself. Shepard heard though, and her face fell.

"What did I do?" She looked positively crushed.

Miranda bit her lip, feeling guilty. "Nothing, Shepard, I don't hate you." She decided to get them back on task, knowing that if they kept this up she would be going to bed very late that night. "I would really appreciate it if you could get some rest though, okay?"

Shepard squirmed about the bed for a moment. "No, that's boring."

Sighing, Miranda moved beside her, positioning herself comfortably on the mattress. "Try," she pressed.

Shepard moaned, but she lay properly next to Miranda as she was told. "You try too."

"I have to stay up here until I know you're asleep, Shepard," she said gently. "I'll go to sleep downstairs as soon as you do."

Shepard sat up, alarmed. "I have to sleep downstairs?"

"No," Miranda tugged her back down by the arm, laughing despite herself. "Just lie down and relax."

Shepard did as she was bid, turning on her side to look at Miranda as the woman beside her did the same. "Morinth was scary," she said suddenly. "I like Samara better."

"I never had the pleasure," Miranda said with a smile, "but I'm sure I would have to agree."

"Smart choice," Shepard replied, nodding her approval. "You're smart." Miranda was going to respond but Shepard wasn't done. "And nice."

She laughed again at that. "I think there are a couple of people around here who would disagree with you on that."

Shepard either didn't grasp the comment or decided to ignore it completely. "Sorry I'm so crazy," she sighed out suddenly, her eyes drifting shut in the process.

Miranda smiled, glad the woman finally seemed to be cooperating. "I told you already, Shepard, I don't think you're crazy." She hesitated for just a moment, and then carried on, "Maybe a bit right now, but not generally, no."

"I should invest in a hat," Shepard said suddenly, eyes opening once more.

Miranda stared at her in disbelief, completely thrown for a loop. "A hat?"

"Would you like one too?" She leaned in close, whispering intently about her fiendish plot. "I can make that happen. They let me control the credits you know." Her eyebrows waggled foolishly. "I have connections."

"I'll pass thanks," Miranda replied with a chuckle, unable to stop herself from playing along. "But I really appreciate you willing to stick out your neck for me like that."

Shepard hummed happily at her response, though Miranda found herself unsure as to why. "One day we will have hats, and everything will be just right." She offered a dreamy sigh. "I can't wait."

Miranda bit her lip, fighting hard to hold back her laughter. "Me neither," she managed to reply with at least some semblance of severity in her tone, even if it was incredibly forced.

"Bats in hats," Shepard added with a nod. "The cure for all."

"What?" Miranda blinked in confusion before rolling onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. The shutters were closed, blocking the window that opened out into the stars. Shepard always kept it that way, for obvious reasons, something Miranda understood but couldn't quite get behind herself. She always closed up the windows in her room whenever Shepard visited out of courtesy, but they were opened as soon as the woman left. There was something about open space that soothed her. It made her feel minuscule, alone, which in her life often spelled safety. "That doesn't make any sort of sense, Shepard."

"Makes more sense than other stuff," Shepard defended quickly, mimicking her companion's position while throwing her hands behind her head.

"What stuff?" Miranda pressed, though she didn't expect a truly coherent answer.

"Stuff that makes less sense," Shepard clarified with conviction.

Miranda thought about that for a moment. "Well I can't really argue that."

Shepard burst into a fit of giggles. "Let's stay up forever."

"You need to go to sleep," Miranda maintained, feeling a bit like a nanny trying to coax their charge into napping. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"I hate sleeping." The pout plastered on Shepard's features was frustratingly endearing.

A surge of curiosity passed through Miranda. She weighed her options for a moment. Shepard was being totally open with her, uttering every nonsensical thought that made its way through her brain. In theory, Miranda could get a lot out of this opportunity. If it would be an ethical tactic or not, well that was another story.

Perhaps if she guided Shepard, but didn't outright push her, that would be acceptable, yes? Never force the information, but accept it when it was freely offered. There was nothing wrong with that in the slightest.

Having convinced herself, Miranda licked her lips before choosing her question carefully. "Why? Because of your dreams?"

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Shepard's brow furrow. "They keep changing. I don't like it."

"How?" She coxed quietly.

"The ship," Shepard mumbled, clearly getting a bit agitated.

"The ship changes?" Miranda pressed. Shepard had been tiptoeing around discussing her dreams for quite some time, having the answer finally within reach left Miranda a bit excited.

"This ship," Shepard sighed out reluctantly. "And the people."

"The new crew is there?"

"And Mordin." Shepard's voice was quiet, sullen even. "There's Jacob and Grunt and Jack and you and everyone." She paused for a moment, and then her nose scrunched up in disgust as though she had tasted something bitter. "I hate it."

"Do you want to explain to me what happens?" The question was asked more gently than the rest as a feeling of guilt had begun to stir in Miranda. If Shepard was in her right mind she wouldn't have wanted to answer these questions, it would be wrong to push any further.

"No."

Despite her disappointment, Miranda smirked. Even incapacitated Shepard was still far too stubborn to willingly show weakness. "Okay," she replied honestly. "You don't have to." For a moment, her thoughts got away from her. She let herself wonder if Liara were there in her shoes, would Shepard be so reluctant to express her troubles. Would she still pull away? Or, would she share herself with the asari completely?

Miranda shook her head, clearing her mind. Bitterness would get her nowhere. She didn't want to be stuck in the past, living with resentment so strong it left her unable to enjoy even their friendship. If that was the extent of what Shepard was offering, she would gladly take it. The rest would fade in time.

She waited a couple of minutes for Shepard to respond before realizing the woman had apparently begun to doze off. Well, her curiosity was far from sated, but at least Shepard was asleep. Carefully, Miranda righted herself into a seated position, sliding slowly along the mattress so as not to disturb it too much and jostle Shepard awake. She had both feet on the ground before long, practically home free. Tentatively, she stood.

"Miranda?"

Biting back a groan, she turned on her heels to face Shepard, who was still lying down, though her eyes were wide and full of childlike curiosity. "What do you need, Shepard?" Miranda asked gently.

"What's your opinion on grapes?"

With a defeated sigh, she settled back down beside the woman who she had remade to be an inspiring commanding officer. Obviously a few things had gone wrong.

"I like the purple one's best," Shepard offered conversationally.

It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I poked a bit of fun at the "I've got a booth over here in the shadows." line. Morinth was such an interesting concept and her "and they call me a monster" line made me really emotional. It was an incredibly powerful moment. It was such a shame the rest of her dialogue was so laughable. Honestly, I can't take the first half of that mission seriously at all.

Anywho, thanks for humoring me guys. I was feeling indulgent and selfishly just had fun for my own sake :p But, hopefully you guys enjoy the next chapter if you know what I mean *suggestive wink*

I don't know why I did that, I'm sorry. No more winking.