It had become a bit of a joke, Shepard knew. Each day she wrote her reports, filed away paperwork, poured over drive core data and counts of ammunition and payroll, and afterward, she would drink some more coffee, stretch her legs, and check in with the crew. She tried to keep it semi-random, so as not to privilege one crew member over another. She used her omni-tool to take notes, keep track of crewmate disputes, and get involved with everyone on the Normandy. That was part of being a good leader, a good commander, even as Gabby and Ken took bets as to who she would seek out first (she personally used a coin-flipping program to decide).
So it was that she had just left her quarters, and was sipping from her thermos of coffee, that Joker said over the comm system:
"We've got a problem in Miranda's office, Commander. It's - you need to get over there right now."
"Thanks, Joker," Shepard said. "I'm on my way."
What she found, naturally, was Jack pointing a gun at Miranda across her desk.
"Put that thing down!" she ordered.
Jack said nothing and tossed a small object onto Miranda's desk.
Glaring at Miranda, Jack said, "Turn it on."
"What the hell is going on here?" Shepard demanded. "Put that thing down!"
"Turn it on, bitch," Jack grit out. "Show her."
Jack had a deep, animal hatred writ across his face. Shepard took him down in five seconds, and broke his wrist. Jack cursed as he got back to his feet, and after turning his head to the side, he repeated himself.
"Thank you, Commander," Miranda said. "I've been telling the Illusive Man from the start, he is-"
"Turn it on you psychopath!" Jack said.
Shepard looked between them. She said to Jack, "We're having a long talk after this." She turned to Miranda and said, "Miranda, whatever that is, turn it on."
"It could be a bomb for all we know, Shepard," Miranda said. "I'll dispose of it."
Jack made a bullish snort. Shepard said, slowly, "Jack, calm down. Turn it on, Miranda."
Miranda's jaw tightened some, but she turned it on. What came up was footage of Jack's room; specifically, a man coming in and looking through Jack's things, his desk and footlocker, even his laundry hamper. Then the man began placing tiny black objects in corners of the room, one behind Jack's metal Casablanca poster. Shepard could hear Jack's breathing, which grew increasingly labored as the footage played.
Miranda's face hadn't changed when the footage ended. She said, evenly, "I don't know what that is. Who that is. It's a security risk, obviously, and I'll have it-"
"Shut it," Shepard cut her off. She said sharply to Jack, "You're going in the brig until further notice." Then, to Miranda, "And so are you. You two are staying there for a week, and are going to work your issues out. And Miranda, if you have anyone else doing this, have them stop it. Or next time this won't be limited to words. Do both of you understand?"
Jack really wanted his dog.
He had the opportunity to explore Omega some after recruiting Mordin, and one of the first places he went was an animal shelter. Admittedly, he had stared some at the cats - among the many things the Capital had killed off, cats were of course on the list - and had maybe, maybe flinched at the sight of a cat yawning, but that was between him and stupid cat. His main concern was the dogs, of course, and while he really didn't like the look of those things called "varren", the other dogs were just that: dogs. Big dogs, small dogs, mean dogs, nice dogs. Some seemed to hate him from first sight, but most of them liked him, as usual. It had been so long since he'd gotten to play with a dog, and maybe, maybe he almost teared up, but that was between him and the mutt that looked too much like Dogmeat.
In the days since, he had looked over and over the one photo he had of him and Dogmeat; it had been taken with a poor, abused, overpriced camera that Bittercup said was stupid. In practical terms it was, but he had just gotten another bread crumb on his father's trail, and he had a wild thought of having some pictures to show his father when he found him. But it worked, and after going to the top of Rivet City at sunset and taking a picture of him and Dogmeat, Bittercup suddenly wanted one of him and her. He'd done a lot to keep those photos, and they may have been fragile, eaten away at the edges, he still had them. The video of another Cerberus asshole going through his shit and looking at them...
Jack wanted Murphy right here, right now, so he could sic him on Miranda.
He could hear Murphy's growl, see the saliva from dog's bared his teeth, the wild, animal rage in his eyes. He could see himself cleaning the dog's snout and teeth after he was done with Miranda's neck, then giving the dog some extra food for being a good boy. The mental images made his chest tighten. He missed Murphy, so much.
Jack had settled himself in the far corner of the brig, while Miranda paced and paced.
"You're annoying," he said.
Miranda turned to him and said with disdain, "You're barbaric."
"Please," Jack rolled his eyes. "You've done worse."
"No," Miranda said. "I haven't."
"I did my fucking research," Jack said. "On Omega. I went to one of their shitty public libraries, and it didn't take long. You're a terrorist and a bigot."
"We've provided you more than enough reading on the Reapers," Miranda said. "And on the missing human colonies. You should know what we're facing."
Jack grinned. "Not the end of the world! We couldn't have that, could we?"
"I know you don't care," Miranda said. "But don't forget who's writing your checks."
Jack hummed and said, sing-song, "Jacob and Miranda, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
Miranda didn't dignify that with a response. Jack chortled. Miranda continued to pace, until she rounded on him and said, "There's been a break in."
"A break-in into your terrorist clubhouse," Jack stretched lazily. "Boo-hoo."
"The asari who confirmed your story," Miranda said. "She's gone missing."
Jack blinked.
"Oh." he said.
"You really have no idea what you are, do you?" Miranda asked. "What you represent scientifically. Your story should be impossible. Everything we thought we knew about the universe - your existence is revolutionary."
Jack said, darkly, "You don't want to see where I come from."
"Whoever captured that asari will eventually come for you," Miranda said. "We are the only ones willing to protect you."
Jack snorted. "Sure. Why do you wear that catsuit, anyways?"
"Are you listening?" Miranda asked.
"You know Shepard doesn't swing that way, right?" Jack said. "I mean everyone takes more attractive people seriously, but come on. Although I guess it's all a spectrum or whatever..."
"You might be the greatest discovery since 2148," Miranda said. "An open door to the impossible."
Jack glowered. "If Murphy was here right now, you'd be dead."
"We don't have your bloody dog," Miranda said tiredly.
"You could've gotten me one," Jack said, surly.
Miranda studied him. "What year were you born?"
"2077."
"Have you been reading the material we gave you," Miranda asked again. "About the Reapers?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "Sounds like we're all fucked. Time to party!"
"How do you not care?" Miranda asked. "Of all the people on this ship, of all the people here, why don't you care?"
Jack shifted against the wall.
Everyone is dying, Bittercup had told him, even as she wrapped his hand in bandages. But you're here. And you make me think that maybe, things can be nicer.
Jack had gone scarlet. I didn't save Red.
You killed that guy in Megaton, Bittercup said. You saved me.
W-well, I mean...
Yeah, I'm prettier than Flash. And that's honestly kind of shitty, but I'm still here, and I can trust you, and you're not so bad yourself, huh?
"Just shut up," Jack told Miranda.
"You're kind of stupid," Bittercup said. "I can handle myself."
Jack had thrown himself between Bittercup and the super mutant that had somehow managed to sneak up on them, and ended up catching the nail board swing meant for her head.
"I know..."
"No," Bittercup said. "You don't. You're being - you're being such a guy about everything."
"I don't mean to," Jack said. "I'm sorry."
Bittercup sighed. "God, can you say anything else?"
"I'm sorry," Jack said.
"Jesus, Jackie," Bittercup shook her head, and Jack watched her hair sway as she did. "What do they teach you in the vaults?"
To obey. To respect authority. Preserve America's legacy.
"A lot," Jack eventually said. "Most of it don't mean much out here."
Bittercup hummed. She sat down next to him. "Do you still have those stories, or whatever? The ones on your pip-boy?"
"Like The Masque of Red Death?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever that is." Bittercup said. She flopped down next to him. "I'm bored."
"I can teach you to read, you know," Jack said. "That would take a while."
Bittercup narrowed her eyes. "Because I'm stupid?"
"N-no," Jack said. "Just, y'know, it takes time. That's all." he paused. "I'm sorry."
"Read," she ordered. "Finish the one about the guy who killed the old man."
"The Tell-Tale Heart?" Jack asked. "Sure."
Bittercup let him start reading, and eventually lay her head on his shoulder.
"I'm glad I met you," she said quietly.
"Bittercup," Jack gasped.
Miranda rounded on him "Who's that?"
"Nobody." Jack said.
"Girlfriend?" Miranda asked. Jack scowled.
"I see," Miranda said. "The Illusive Man didn't tell me as much as I'd like, but he did tell me your... moniker." she studied him. "How did you get it?"
"It doesn't matter," Jack said.
"Then there's no reason not to tell me," Miranda said.
Jack glared at her.
"We have nothing else to do here but talk," Miranda said.
Jack gave her the finger.
Miranda went back to her pacing. Jack picked at some paint at the wall until some of it chipped off, and he ate it. Miranda gave him a look of pure disgust.
"Do you have any shame?" she asked.
Jack's glare had faded, but his face still blazed with hostility.
"I still don't think you understand what a change you are," she said. "With what's coming, you might be the only way out for any of us."
Jack laughed. "Trust me, you don't want that."
"Why not? I understand-"
"No," Jack cut her off. "You couldn't possibly. You don't know what people are actually like, when you take away all of the little conveniences you have. You wouldn't last a second where I come from. You'd be too concerned with your make-up."
"Then make me understand," Miranda said. "I'm the only one who knows about your... situation. You should talk to me."
"So you can pass it all back to your boss?" Jack challenged. "After I put a gun in your face?"
"I could have killed you," Miranda said.
"Uh-huh."
"You've seen what biotics can do," Miranda said. "What is that, compared to your crude implements?"
"You can put on a lightshow," Jack said. "That's like, so wizard."
"You can laugh all you like," Miranda said. "But you're still just a kid. Looking at you, I don't know how you've lived this long."
"I'm a crack shot with a BB gun," Jack said, as if that explained everything.
Miranda studied him, so long that Jack shifted uncomfortably against the wall.
"We can't leave here like this," Miranda said.
"Stop going through my shit then," Jack said. "You're kind of a perv, y'know that? Having guys go through my laundry hamper."
"It had a shiv in it," Miranda said.
"I forgot it was there," Jack said. "Who cares?"
Miranda gave a long-suffering sigh. "You're incorrigible."
Jack grinned. "I prefer to say charming."
"You're unstable," Miranda snapped. "You're violent. No sane person does what you do."
"I convinced you my name was Dean Domino." Jack said. "Why couldn't you see through that?"
"I suspected you were lying," Miranda said. "And I looked up that name. The only Dean Domino of any note was a lounge singer who died in 2122 from a lung cancer."
"You know how creepy you sound, right?" Jack said.
"I know more," Miranda said. "A lot more. I know enough to get you kicked off this ship."
Jack held her gaze, until his eyes widened slightly. "You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?" Miranda challenged. "I mean, it's not like you did all of it out of necessity."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Jack said. "And you don't get to judge me."
"Why not?" Miranda asked. "Because I think, even where you come from, most people don't do that."
Jack shot to his feet. "Watch your fucking mouth."
"Or what?" Miranda rolled her eyes.
Jack glared at her. "You know what? Sure." he stalked over to her, but she was taller than him. He was undaunted. "I've done worse. Been worse. But all that means is I know how to make things bad for you."
"Then do it." Miranda said simply.
Jack could see it clear as day: cold-clocking her, getting on top of her, and wrapping his hands around her throat. Digging his nails in, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing, as her eyes began to bulge and tear up. Spitting in her eyes, then taking a knife cutting her up. He knew how to do it right, to separate the sinew from the meat, get only the soft parts, how long to cook everything so it was just right.
"Fuck you." he grit out.
"See?" Miranda said. "You won't. There is something in you that's decent. Decent enough, anyway. When you were on Omega, you gave medi-gel you couldn't spare to a dying Batarian." She loomed over him. "However bad you are, there's something still left in there. I don't think you're all so tough, not really. And I think, most of all, that you need someone to talk to. with me. We don't need to be enemies - we can't be, if we're going to succeed in this mission. And whatever you tell me, I won't share it with anyone."
"You want more ammo against me," Jack said, raising his chin.
"Sure," Miranda said. "But it doesn't have to be." she held out her hand. "You show me yours, I show you mine."
"Mutually assured destruction," Jack said.
"Yes," Miranda said. "There are things I've done that Shepard wouldn't accept either."
"If you betray me..."
"If you betray me," Miranda said. "I'll do the same."
Jack looked at her hand, then her face, then to her hand again. Slowly, he raised his eyes to look into hers.
Slowly, cautiously, he shook her hand.
"So, what is your real name?" Miranda asked. "First and last."
"I didn't lie about my last name," Jack said. "But... my first name, I'll tell you later."
"Well," Miranda shrugged. "It's a start."
Jack still scowled.
More backstory (Jackstory?)!
The ending of this chapter just kind of happened, honestly. But I like it. Jack hates Miranda so much because he sees shades of himself in her, and that makes the two of them rather simpatico. Make no mistake, Miranda is a terrorist and I don't doubt she's done some questionable things that most Shepards would find, uh, problematic. And now Jack can become the younger brother-figure Miranda didn't ask for and Miranda can become the sister-figure Jack didn't ask for! Ain't that cute!
As always, reviews will make me very happy and follows and favs bring a smile to my face. :)