Vulnerable (Miranda/Male Shepard, PG-13)
Title: Vulnerable
Pairing: Miranda/Male Shepard
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: The assault on the Collector base is imminent. Miranda deals with her anxieties the only way she knows how.
Word count: 3000
The Normandy was suddenly very quiet; the only sounds was the hum of the engines and the blood pounding in Miranda's ears. When she spoke, her voice cut through the air like a sword. "What do you mean 'they took them all?'" This was a joke. It had to be. Every single crewman on the SR-2-Hadley, Patel, all of them-had been a decorated member of the Alliance Navy before they'd joined Cerberus. The Collectors couldn't have subdued and kidnapped them all in the two hours she and Shepard had been gone. The Collectors shouldn't have been able to find the Normandy at all.
But Joker bowed his head and closes his eyes like a man praying for forgiveness. "We did the best we could. If it hadn't been for EDI taking over the defense systems, they would have gotten the ship, too."
The day was getting better and better. She rubbed her temples. "Don't even get me started about unshackling a damned AI. You're lucky it didn't turn on you."
Joker's head snapped up. His eyes glazed with a fury Miranda never thought to see. "What else was I supposed to do? Break my arm at them?" His voice softened a little. "Besides, EDI came through. She's all right."
A small, still-rational part of Miranda's brain agreed with him. Joker was only one man and next to useless in a gunfight. Still, she let the anger course through her. Anger was better than the alternative, better than calculating her odds of survival for the hundredth time or wondering what Cerberus would tell Oriana if she didn't survive.
It didn't quite work. If the Collectors can defeat us here, what chance do we have against them on their home ground?
She pushed the thought away and looked at Peter. He laid a hand on Joker's shoulder. "You okay?" His voice was deep, reassuring. Almost fatherly. If he was angry or frightened, he didn't show it. But then Peter never really did. She'd seen him filled with righteous indignation when he'd threatened Herrot. She'd seen him thoughtful after Horizon. For her, he had been charming. He'd seemed to know exactly when to flirt with her and when to take her in his arms. Never in all that time had he been anything less than the competent, capable Savior of the Citadel that the Illusive Man had wanted. Miranda wondered how Peter managed it.
Joker nodded wordlessly. Peter smiled slightly. "You'll feel even better when we find them and bring them home." He leaned forward and placed one hand on the edge of the briefing console. "The Collectors think they can screw with us. They think they can kidnap our friends and we have no choice but to sit here and take it." His dark eyes glittered. With his fair hair and chiseled jaw, he looked as if he had just stepped out of the advertisements for an action vid. "We're going to prove them wrong. I refuse to let them take anything else. Return to your stations. We're going through the Omega-4 relay."
No one said anything for a long moment. Miranda opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She wanted to remind him of some last task he had forgotten, but there was nothing left. The Normandy had the best armor and weapons technology could provide...
Not that it did the crew any good.
... Peter had spent weeks making sure that the rest of the squad weren't distracted by personal matters. He'd even convinced her to introduce herself to Oriana.
Not like it'll matter in the end. You'll be just as dead.
No. Miranda shook her head. She'd known since Freedom's Progress that their odds of survival were slim, whatever Peter said, but she couldn't act as if death were a foregone conclusion. That was as good as handing the Collectors their victory. She didn't have to survive, but she did have to win. The Illusive Man had made it clear that the abductions were to be stopped, no matter the cost. Miranda would stop them, even if she had to lie to herself to do it. Pretend just for a few hours that she wasn't about to die, that this was just another mission, and that she was free to do whatever she liked until then. Whatever she liked. However she liked. With whomever she liked.
Jacob and Joker saluted and filed out, Joker limping as he went. Peter watched them go before turning his attention to her. It was as if someone flipped a switch. His eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled the length of her. Tension coiled in his shoulders and upper back. His breath-short, shallow pants escaping through slightly parted lips-sounded strangely loud in the silence of the briefing room. She felt her own breathing quicken in response, but did not look away. People had watched and desired her all her life. Sometimes she indulged them for a night, or longer if it took her fancy.
She'd never been quite certain what Peter had wanted from her. He'd smiled and laughed as he'd told her that he was just trying to get her into bed. His idea of a joke. She liked that easy, light flirtation. Too many men treated her as a spoiled princess who needed to be pampered and indulged at every moment. Peter treated her like an ordinary human who could take a joke. Sometimes. Sometimes he waited outside a transport terminal for hours just so she could introduce herself to Oriana. After the assault on the Collector ship, she'd been half-panicked at the realization of how expendable they all were. Like some hormone-addled schoolgirl, she'd begged him not to die. She'd been expecting another bad joke. He hadn't said a word, just held her for a long moment before walking away.
Her lips curved into a smile. Oh yes. She knew exactly how she wanted to spend the next few hours. She'd thought about having sex with him and had planned for it as she planned for every other possibility, however remote. Thank God for that.
She darted from the room and toward the elevator without a word. Neither of their quarters would do. She'd placed the bugs in the captain's quarters personally, and she wasn't naïve enough to believe that her own room was unmonitored. Miranda didn't think anyone would care she slept with this close to the end or that the data from the surveillance devices would even be forwarded, but it didn't matter. This was private. She wouldn't share Peter with anyone or anything, even a spy camera. There were two clean places on the ship. Mordin doubtlessly planned on using his laboratory to fine-tune one last prototype. Which left the area surrounding the engine core. The drive core's electromagnetic field played havoc with any surveillance devices within fifteen meters. The windows in the laboratory, armory, and on the crew deck had been an attempt to mitigate the problem, but there was still a small area away from prying eyes. All Miranda had to do was make sure the area was unoccupied. She'd been irritated by the design flaw when EDI had first told her, but now she could only be grateful.
The engineering deck was as silent and cold as a cemetery at midnight. There was no immediate sign of Jack, Zaeed, or Grunt. Probably off somewhere plotting new ways to inflict mayhem and ruin her carefully crafted battle plans. Her footsteps echoed on the metal floor as she made her way to the engine room. She didn't stop. If she stopped, she would have time to think of Donnelly, Daniels, and all the others who were supposed to be here but weren't. A blast from a nearby cooling unit struck her in the face, and Miranda shivered.
She wasn't completely alone. Tali stood hunched over her station the same as always. Miranda suppressed a groan. She knew what it was like to retreat into the comforting familiarity of work, but she wished the quarian was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Their relationship had never been more than coolly professional, but Tali had barely spoken to her in days. Miranda thought she knew why. Crew gossip was that she'd confessed that she'd been in love with Peter since the day they'd met, or something like that, and he had turned her down. Peter had refused to talk about it, which was reason enough to believe the rumor. And I was the one who "won" him. Miranda hadn't known it was a competition until after it was already over. She paused, trying to think of a way to get Tali to leave without making it sound like she was gloating. Nothing came to mind. She could raise a man from the dead, but she would never have Peter's talent for smoothing things over or turning enemies into friends. Just ask Wilson.
Tali stiffened as she approached, but didn't turn around. "Hi," she said softly.
"Hello." Miranda clasped her hands behind her back. When in doubt, be professional and assert your authority. Her voice was clipped and cold. "I trust all the readings are normal?"
"Yes."
Miranda waited for an elaboration that never came. She didn't think it was possible for quarians to be so uncommunicative when it came to ships. Well, if Tali wouldn't provide an opening, then Miranda would create one. "I need you to leave. We'll need that shielding you installed, and I need to run some simulations to gauge how much punishment it can take in a firefight." The words tasted like cotton in her mouth.
Tali turned. Her face was unreadable behind her mask, but Miranda could almost see her brow furrow and her eyes darken. The girl would have lasted five minutes on a mission that required deception. Miranda wondered if she would live long enough to learn not to wear her heart on her sleeve, then brushed the thought away.
"Why would you need to run the simulations? That's the only thing the AI is good for. I don't care what Joker says. What do you really-" She glanced around wildly as if hoping for an answer and found the door to the engine core. Her shoulders slumped as she looked from the door to Miranda to the almost imperceptible camera mounted on the ceiling that watched them both. She thought for a moment, and her shoulders slumped further. "I see." Her voice was almost a whisper. She was no longer really speaking to Miranda at all. "Never stood a chance, did I?"
Miranda didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't sound like a platitude. She wasn't going to tell Tali about the weeks after Oriana's rescue when she had tried to keep Peter at a professional distance. Let her think Miranda had deliberately stolen her crush. It would have been better if it were true.
Miranda only ever got to keep what she stole.
At last, Tali seemed to remember that she was still there. "I'm, er, going to the armory now. Got to make sure my shotgun still works. Can't risk it jamming against the Collectors. Is it warm in here to you?" She scurried toward the elevator.
Miranda counted to fifty before following. No need to compound the awkwardness by sharing an elevator. She was halfway across the deck when Joker's voice rang through the ship. For once, he sounded like he belonged in the military. "Engaging FTL drives. Course set for the Omega-4 relay. ETA: two hours."
Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. 7200 seconds. It suddenly seemed like no time at all. Her steps quickened. Best make the most of it. She couldn't help but keep time as she walked. Thirty-seven seconds to reach the elevator. Another twenty-five waiting for it to arrive. Over a minute wasted already. She resisted the urge to strike the console. Barely.
The elevator arrived and Miranda stepped inside. Her thoughts darted around her mind like hyperactive hummingbirds. Her skin prickled with fear and anticipation. She took a deep breath. Think. She had to think. Seduction wasn't that different from covert ops. You never got what you wanted without coming up with a plan. Peter liked bad jokes and lighthearted seduction. The man's idea of a good pickup line was telling her that he liked admiring her body. She could oblige him. Hiding what you really felt behind a smile was vastly preferable to dropping to your knees and confessing undying love.
There's no guarantee this will work, you know. Images flashed through her mind in rapid succession. Peter staring at her in shock and reminding her that she of all people should know that now wasn't the time. Peter baring his teeth in a mockery of a smile, laughing as he said that he'd only ever wanted one thing from her and she'd been a fool to give her heart away. Peter lying on the metal floor of some distant space station and a Collector standing over his corpse. Peter...
Enough. She would drive herself mad if this continued. All those things might come true, or none of them. She'd already let Peter past her emotional defenses, had given him the capacity to break her heart the moment she had told him about Oriana. He would keep that power whether or not she had sex with him. She might as well and enjoy herself.
The door opened with a sudden whoosh, and Miranda looked up. Peter stood frozen mid-stride, staring at her. Years of training kicked in almost automatically, and she smiled at him. "Pardon, me, commander." She pitched her voice low and stepped closer to him. He sucked in a breath. The air felt thick and warm, and Miranda fought the urge to hold her own breath. She closed the distance between them and placed one hand on his chest. His skin felt warm even through his shirt. She let her fingers play across his chest for a moment, enjoying the feel of him under her. Pride and lust intermingled. This is my handiwork.
Now or never. She leaned in close. Her breath rasped against his ear. "I've cleared the engine room. Be there in five minutes."
She looked at him. His eyes were dark and unreadable. Her smile felt suddenly frozen. Miranda had always been able to get men to eat out of her hand when she wanted to, usually with nothing more than a batted eyelash and a few well-chosen words. Her looks were her father's most obvious gift, and she used them to her best advantage, just as she used everything else he'd given her. They had never failed her. Please let them not fail now.
A moment passed. Another. But then he grinned at her and shook his head. "I should have known that you wouldn't settle for the captain's quarters."
She wanted to throw her head back and laugh. Yes. She turned around and walked back to the elevator, taking her time. She could feel his gaze on her. Let him enjoy the view. At the last moment, she turned back to him and winked. A bit overdone, perhaps, but what did it matter? He was hers. Whatever happened in the coming hours or days, he was hers for these few moments. "I settle for nothing but the best."
"Neither do I."
--
Miranda pillowed her head on Peter's chest and smiled. Her limbs were pleasantly heavy and warm. The drive core rumbled above them, sending small vibrations through her. Peter stroked her hair. His breath caressed the top of her head. Neither of them said anything. Some distant part of her mind was aware that she ought to be getting up, but she couldn't muster the will. The Collectors and Reapers seemed to belong to another universe entirely. She'd had good sex more times than she cared to count, but this easy, peaceful atmosphere was a rare thing.
"Wow," Peter said at last.
Miranda chuckled against his skin. "That all you can say?"
"Well, my back feels like it's been scraped with a cheese grater." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're worth it, though."
"It was... enjoyable."
"No." She lifted her head to look at him quizzically. He was staring at her again, but any trace of flirtation or humor had vanished. "You're worth it."
"Oh." The words escaped in a whisper. Heat spread over Miranda's cheeks and her breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to say things like that? Why did he have to mean them? Don't you dare die on me, Peter Shepard. I forbid it. She didn't trust herself to say anything more. Instead, she scrambled off him and began searching for her discarded clothing.
Peter sat up and reached for his trousers. "I won't let them take you," he whispered, so softly that she might have imagined it. She looked at him, desperate for some clue as to whether he'd said what she thought he'd said. But he was busy zipping up his trousers and not looking at her. She turned away, and they dressed in silence.
"Do me a favor, Miranda?" he asked when they were done. His voice was once again the easy, charming voice of the Savior of the Citadel. Shepard, not Peter. "Let me buy you dinner next time."
Next time? Next time. She liked the sound of that. "All right."
Pairing: Miranda/Male Shepard
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: The assault on the Collector base is imminent. Miranda deals with her anxieties the only way she knows how.
Word count: 3000
The Normandy was suddenly very quiet; the only sounds was the hum of the engines and the blood pounding in Miranda's ears. When she spoke, her voice cut through the air like a sword. "What do you mean 'they took them all?'" This was a joke. It had to be. Every single crewman on the SR-2-Hadley, Patel, all of them-had been a decorated member of the Alliance Navy before they'd joined Cerberus. The Collectors couldn't have subdued and kidnapped them all in the two hours she and Shepard had been gone. The Collectors shouldn't have been able to find the Normandy at all.
But Joker bowed his head and closes his eyes like a man praying for forgiveness. "We did the best we could. If it hadn't been for EDI taking over the defense systems, they would have gotten the ship, too."
The day was getting better and better. She rubbed her temples. "Don't even get me started about unshackling a damned AI. You're lucky it didn't turn on you."
Joker's head snapped up. His eyes glazed with a fury Miranda never thought to see. "What else was I supposed to do? Break my arm at them?" His voice softened a little. "Besides, EDI came through. She's all right."
A small, still-rational part of Miranda's brain agreed with him. Joker was only one man and next to useless in a gunfight. Still, she let the anger course through her. Anger was better than the alternative, better than calculating her odds of survival for the hundredth time or wondering what Cerberus would tell Oriana if she didn't survive.
It didn't quite work. If the Collectors can defeat us here, what chance do we have against them on their home ground?
She pushed the thought away and looked at Peter. He laid a hand on Joker's shoulder. "You okay?" His voice was deep, reassuring. Almost fatherly. If he was angry or frightened, he didn't show it. But then Peter never really did. She'd seen him filled with righteous indignation when he'd threatened Herrot. She'd seen him thoughtful after Horizon. For her, he had been charming. He'd seemed to know exactly when to flirt with her and when to take her in his arms. Never in all that time had he been anything less than the competent, capable Savior of the Citadel that the Illusive Man had wanted. Miranda wondered how Peter managed it.
Joker nodded wordlessly. Peter smiled slightly. "You'll feel even better when we find them and bring them home." He leaned forward and placed one hand on the edge of the briefing console. "The Collectors think they can screw with us. They think they can kidnap our friends and we have no choice but to sit here and take it." His dark eyes glittered. With his fair hair and chiseled jaw, he looked as if he had just stepped out of the advertisements for an action vid. "We're going to prove them wrong. I refuse to let them take anything else. Return to your stations. We're going through the Omega-4 relay."
No one said anything for a long moment. Miranda opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She wanted to remind him of some last task he had forgotten, but there was nothing left. The Normandy had the best armor and weapons technology could provide...
Not that it did the crew any good.
... Peter had spent weeks making sure that the rest of the squad weren't distracted by personal matters. He'd even convinced her to introduce herself to Oriana.
Not like it'll matter in the end. You'll be just as dead.
No. Miranda shook her head. She'd known since Freedom's Progress that their odds of survival were slim, whatever Peter said, but she couldn't act as if death were a foregone conclusion. That was as good as handing the Collectors their victory. She didn't have to survive, but she did have to win. The Illusive Man had made it clear that the abductions were to be stopped, no matter the cost. Miranda would stop them, even if she had to lie to herself to do it. Pretend just for a few hours that she wasn't about to die, that this was just another mission, and that she was free to do whatever she liked until then. Whatever she liked. However she liked. With whomever she liked.
Jacob and Joker saluted and filed out, Joker limping as he went. Peter watched them go before turning his attention to her. It was as if someone flipped a switch. His eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled the length of her. Tension coiled in his shoulders and upper back. His breath-short, shallow pants escaping through slightly parted lips-sounded strangely loud in the silence of the briefing room. She felt her own breathing quicken in response, but did not look away. People had watched and desired her all her life. Sometimes she indulged them for a night, or longer if it took her fancy.
She'd never been quite certain what Peter had wanted from her. He'd smiled and laughed as he'd told her that he was just trying to get her into bed. His idea of a joke. She liked that easy, light flirtation. Too many men treated her as a spoiled princess who needed to be pampered and indulged at every moment. Peter treated her like an ordinary human who could take a joke. Sometimes. Sometimes he waited outside a transport terminal for hours just so she could introduce herself to Oriana. After the assault on the Collector ship, she'd been half-panicked at the realization of how expendable they all were. Like some hormone-addled schoolgirl, she'd begged him not to die. She'd been expecting another bad joke. He hadn't said a word, just held her for a long moment before walking away.
Her lips curved into a smile. Oh yes. She knew exactly how she wanted to spend the next few hours. She'd thought about having sex with him and had planned for it as she planned for every other possibility, however remote. Thank God for that.
She darted from the room and toward the elevator without a word. Neither of their quarters would do. She'd placed the bugs in the captain's quarters personally, and she wasn't naïve enough to believe that her own room was unmonitored. Miranda didn't think anyone would care she slept with this close to the end or that the data from the surveillance devices would even be forwarded, but it didn't matter. This was private. She wouldn't share Peter with anyone or anything, even a spy camera. There were two clean places on the ship. Mordin doubtlessly planned on using his laboratory to fine-tune one last prototype. Which left the area surrounding the engine core. The drive core's electromagnetic field played havoc with any surveillance devices within fifteen meters. The windows in the laboratory, armory, and on the crew deck had been an attempt to mitigate the problem, but there was still a small area away from prying eyes. All Miranda had to do was make sure the area was unoccupied. She'd been irritated by the design flaw when EDI had first told her, but now she could only be grateful.
The engineering deck was as silent and cold as a cemetery at midnight. There was no immediate sign of Jack, Zaeed, or Grunt. Probably off somewhere plotting new ways to inflict mayhem and ruin her carefully crafted battle plans. Her footsteps echoed on the metal floor as she made her way to the engine room. She didn't stop. If she stopped, she would have time to think of Donnelly, Daniels, and all the others who were supposed to be here but weren't. A blast from a nearby cooling unit struck her in the face, and Miranda shivered.
She wasn't completely alone. Tali stood hunched over her station the same as always. Miranda suppressed a groan. She knew what it was like to retreat into the comforting familiarity of work, but she wished the quarian was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Their relationship had never been more than coolly professional, but Tali had barely spoken to her in days. Miranda thought she knew why. Crew gossip was that she'd confessed that she'd been in love with Peter since the day they'd met, or something like that, and he had turned her down. Peter had refused to talk about it, which was reason enough to believe the rumor. And I was the one who "won" him. Miranda hadn't known it was a competition until after it was already over. She paused, trying to think of a way to get Tali to leave without making it sound like she was gloating. Nothing came to mind. She could raise a man from the dead, but she would never have Peter's talent for smoothing things over or turning enemies into friends. Just ask Wilson.
Tali stiffened as she approached, but didn't turn around. "Hi," she said softly.
"Hello." Miranda clasped her hands behind her back. When in doubt, be professional and assert your authority. Her voice was clipped and cold. "I trust all the readings are normal?"
"Yes."
Miranda waited for an elaboration that never came. She didn't think it was possible for quarians to be so uncommunicative when it came to ships. Well, if Tali wouldn't provide an opening, then Miranda would create one. "I need you to leave. We'll need that shielding you installed, and I need to run some simulations to gauge how much punishment it can take in a firefight." The words tasted like cotton in her mouth.
Tali turned. Her face was unreadable behind her mask, but Miranda could almost see her brow furrow and her eyes darken. The girl would have lasted five minutes on a mission that required deception. Miranda wondered if she would live long enough to learn not to wear her heart on her sleeve, then brushed the thought away.
"Why would you need to run the simulations? That's the only thing the AI is good for. I don't care what Joker says. What do you really-" She glanced around wildly as if hoping for an answer and found the door to the engine core. Her shoulders slumped as she looked from the door to Miranda to the almost imperceptible camera mounted on the ceiling that watched them both. She thought for a moment, and her shoulders slumped further. "I see." Her voice was almost a whisper. She was no longer really speaking to Miranda at all. "Never stood a chance, did I?"
Miranda didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't sound like a platitude. She wasn't going to tell Tali about the weeks after Oriana's rescue when she had tried to keep Peter at a professional distance. Let her think Miranda had deliberately stolen her crush. It would have been better if it were true.
Miranda only ever got to keep what she stole.
At last, Tali seemed to remember that she was still there. "I'm, er, going to the armory now. Got to make sure my shotgun still works. Can't risk it jamming against the Collectors. Is it warm in here to you?" She scurried toward the elevator.
Miranda counted to fifty before following. No need to compound the awkwardness by sharing an elevator. She was halfway across the deck when Joker's voice rang through the ship. For once, he sounded like he belonged in the military. "Engaging FTL drives. Course set for the Omega-4 relay. ETA: two hours."
Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. 7200 seconds. It suddenly seemed like no time at all. Her steps quickened. Best make the most of it. She couldn't help but keep time as she walked. Thirty-seven seconds to reach the elevator. Another twenty-five waiting for it to arrive. Over a minute wasted already. She resisted the urge to strike the console. Barely.
The elevator arrived and Miranda stepped inside. Her thoughts darted around her mind like hyperactive hummingbirds. Her skin prickled with fear and anticipation. She took a deep breath. Think. She had to think. Seduction wasn't that different from covert ops. You never got what you wanted without coming up with a plan. Peter liked bad jokes and lighthearted seduction. The man's idea of a good pickup line was telling her that he liked admiring her body. She could oblige him. Hiding what you really felt behind a smile was vastly preferable to dropping to your knees and confessing undying love.
There's no guarantee this will work, you know. Images flashed through her mind in rapid succession. Peter staring at her in shock and reminding her that she of all people should know that now wasn't the time. Peter baring his teeth in a mockery of a smile, laughing as he said that he'd only ever wanted one thing from her and she'd been a fool to give her heart away. Peter lying on the metal floor of some distant space station and a Collector standing over his corpse. Peter...
Enough. She would drive herself mad if this continued. All those things might come true, or none of them. She'd already let Peter past her emotional defenses, had given him the capacity to break her heart the moment she had told him about Oriana. He would keep that power whether or not she had sex with him. She might as well and enjoy herself.
The door opened with a sudden whoosh, and Miranda looked up. Peter stood frozen mid-stride, staring at her. Years of training kicked in almost automatically, and she smiled at him. "Pardon, me, commander." She pitched her voice low and stepped closer to him. He sucked in a breath. The air felt thick and warm, and Miranda fought the urge to hold her own breath. She closed the distance between them and placed one hand on his chest. His skin felt warm even through his shirt. She let her fingers play across his chest for a moment, enjoying the feel of him under her. Pride and lust intermingled. This is my handiwork.
Now or never. She leaned in close. Her breath rasped against his ear. "I've cleared the engine room. Be there in five minutes."
She looked at him. His eyes were dark and unreadable. Her smile felt suddenly frozen. Miranda had always been able to get men to eat out of her hand when she wanted to, usually with nothing more than a batted eyelash and a few well-chosen words. Her looks were her father's most obvious gift, and she used them to her best advantage, just as she used everything else he'd given her. They had never failed her. Please let them not fail now.
A moment passed. Another. But then he grinned at her and shook his head. "I should have known that you wouldn't settle for the captain's quarters."
She wanted to throw her head back and laugh. Yes. She turned around and walked back to the elevator, taking her time. She could feel his gaze on her. Let him enjoy the view. At the last moment, she turned back to him and winked. A bit overdone, perhaps, but what did it matter? He was hers. Whatever happened in the coming hours or days, he was hers for these few moments. "I settle for nothing but the best."
"Neither do I."
--
Miranda pillowed her head on Peter's chest and smiled. Her limbs were pleasantly heavy and warm. The drive core rumbled above them, sending small vibrations through her. Peter stroked her hair. His breath caressed the top of her head. Neither of them said anything. Some distant part of her mind was aware that she ought to be getting up, but she couldn't muster the will. The Collectors and Reapers seemed to belong to another universe entirely. She'd had good sex more times than she cared to count, but this easy, peaceful atmosphere was a rare thing.
"Wow," Peter said at last.
Miranda chuckled against his skin. "That all you can say?"
"Well, my back feels like it's been scraped with a cheese grater." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're worth it, though."
"It was... enjoyable."
"No." She lifted her head to look at him quizzically. He was staring at her again, but any trace of flirtation or humor had vanished. "You're worth it."
"Oh." The words escaped in a whisper. Heat spread over Miranda's cheeks and her breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to say things like that? Why did he have to mean them? Don't you dare die on me, Peter Shepard. I forbid it. She didn't trust herself to say anything more. Instead, she scrambled off him and began searching for her discarded clothing.
Peter sat up and reached for his trousers. "I won't let them take you," he whispered, so softly that she might have imagined it. She looked at him, desperate for some clue as to whether he'd said what she thought he'd said. But he was busy zipping up his trousers and not looking at her. She turned away, and they dressed in silence.
"Do me a favor, Miranda?" he asked when they were done. His voice was once again the easy, charming voice of the Savior of the Citadel. Shepard, not Peter. "Let me buy you dinner next time."
Next time? Next time. She liked the sound of that. "All right."