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Taking a generous swig off her bottle, Natasha Shepard eyed her former XO with interest. “So, Miri, since the new year’s almost on us, any resolutions I should know about?”
“I don’t believe in resolutions, Shepard. Abstract or pointless goals like, ‘be a better person’ or ‘eat less carbs’ aren’t exactly my forte,” she took a lingering sip of her wine, “Besides, even if I had a mind for such things, I don’t think this is the time for resolutions,”
Her somber reminder of the world outside Shepard’s loft, of the war that waged on a thousand worlds, was not lost on the Commander. But it was pushed aside, for the moment, with the flash of a familiar smirk and the presence of deep-set dimples.
“Everythin’s yer forte,” she protested, “But I guess I hear ya. Why make a lotta promises ya don’t really intend ta keep? Why not just, ya know, do those things all the time? Just be that better person, yeah?”
“If being a ‘good’ person was that easy, Shepard, everyone would do it,” she said with a laugh but there was a flicker in cerulean eyes that, in turn, made Shepard narrow hers.
Nudging her lightly with her shoulder, she took another drink. “Yer a good person, Miranda,”
Miranda frowned, though whether it was because of her ability to read her or the words themselves, Shepard wasn’t sure. “…perhaps,” she said finally, her tone unreadable. “But, even if I am, I did not become so via the questionable means of resolutions. I didn’t just decide to be better. Even if that had been an option, I’m sure I wouldn’t have chosen it,”
“Why?” she asked, interested.
“Because leaving Cerberus was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” she began, her eyes trained on the horizon line through Shepard’s window, “I fought and bled and sacrificed to be where I was; I invested almost twenty years of my life in the Illusive Man and his promises. Seeing through him, though the lies and the promises both, as a gradual process was hard enough. But to just leave…” she shook her head.
“When I woke up in that lab,” Shepard began, earning her attention once more, “When I agreed ta help Cerberus defeat the Collectors, it felt like I’d betrayed myself, somehow. Like I wouldn’t be the kind of person I wanted ta be, was supposed ta be, if I worked with ‘em,” she took a breath, “I knew it was the right thing ta do, the ends justify the means an’ all that, but I just…I couldn’t get over that feeling. Never did, really. But there were moments when I…” she trailed off, taking a sharp breath followed by a long drink.
“When you felt yourself slipping,” Miranda supplied and she nodded.
“Ya know I’ve gotta bit of a checkered past,” she said, “Workin’ with Cerberus, breakin’ laws left an’ right, not carin’ about the consequences ‘cos what we were doin’ was the only thing that mattered…it felt good. Like bein’ with the Reds all over again, just fightin’ an’ rulin’ the streets, even if the streets were a lot bigger’n they used ta be. But that isn’t who I am. It’s a part of me an’ it’ll always be a part of me but it isn’t me. I know where I’m s’posed ta stand, what I’m s’posed ta stand for, an’ that’s why I didn’t hesitate when we got ta the base,”
“It’s why I couldn’t shoot you,” Miranda began, “You made me realize what I wanted, what I needed, wasn’t what Cerberus was fighting for. What I was fighting for,”
“An’ what’s that?”
“Humanity. Knowledge, not for power but for its own sake. Freedom, for me, for Ori,” she laughed quietly, sipping her wine, and offered her former Commander a smile, “And you, which I’m sure is the answer you wanted,”
Shepard grinned, bumping their shoulders once more. “Ya always see right through me, Miri,”
“It helps that I have, literally, done so many, many times,”
She laughed. “Well, since ya put it that way, lemme make ya a deal,” she said, “Forget about Reapers, about the lack of security, an’ make a resolution, here an’ now. But make it a real thing, like a goal ya can really do,”
Miranda raised a curious brow, “And what do I get out of this ‘deal’?”
“Simple,” she said with a smile, “I’ll tell ya what mine is,”
She eyed her for a minute, a hint of good-natured suspicion in her eyes, before nodding, “Alright,” she thought for a moment and let out a quiet breath, “My resolution is to…make more of an effort, especially with Ori. More calls to the people I care about rather than just making the time to accept theirs,”
Shepard nodded, “Very nice…an’ ya know I’ll hold ya too it,”
Miranda laughed, “I’d expect nothing less,”
The raven haired biotic waited quietly for a few minutes but Shepard never spoke, never offered her side of their deal and so she, for the first time that night, nudged her shoulder into the brunettes, “I do believe it’s your turn,”
“Guess so,” she said, running a hand through long, dark hair, “Promise not ta laugh? Or…or leave?” And, though she was smiling, there was a gleam in her eyes that belied the laughter in her voice.
Still, she nodded. “Of course,”
Shepard took in a deep breath and let it out just as slow before she spoke, “My resolution is that, one day, I’m gonna ask ya ta marry me,”
Miranda sucked in breath, eyes blown wide as she looked over at her in pure, unadulterated shock. “Natasha…”
“I won’t ask ya now,” she continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “Wouldn’t be right, even if I did. But I will, ya know. One day. After all this’ over,” she looked over at her with a small, quiet smile, “Thought ya should know,”
“I…” she shook her head, trying – and mostly failing – to find the words to say, “I don’t know what to say,” she said finally.
“Don’t have ta say anythin’,” she said, leaning back in her seat and finishing off the last of her drink, “Like I said, just wanted ya ta know,”
It wasn’t often that the biotic found herself shocked into silence but this…she frowned slightly, silently trying to figure out why it was so surprising. Marriage wasn’t an oddity, after all, that was the end goal of most normal relationships. But she’d never considered herself, or Shepard honestly, to be a ‘normal’ person. Like so many others, she sometimes had trouble remembering that the Commander was just a woman. She’d done extraordinary things, more than most ever would, but, nevertheless, she was just a person.
One who, for all intents and purposes and despite her many insecurities, had just poured out her heart. And she’d said nothing.
Miranda swallowed, flushing slightly beneath the weight of her shame. “I’m not leaving,” she said quietly, “Processing, yes. But not leaving,” and she watched the brunette relax the muscles she hadn’t even seen tense, all but melting into her chair as the relief washed off her in near-palpable waves.
“Never thought ya would,” she said and Miranda felt her heart swell far past the point of correcting her.
“Good,” she said, settling into her own seat. “I’d have really hated having to slap you on the eve of our not-engagement,”
Natasha laughed ad Miranda smiled behind he glass and, for a moment, it didn’t matter that war was waging or that, more likely than not, they would all die in their attempts to win it. Because right here, right now, she’d glimpsed the future, their future.
And, god help her, but it was one worth fighting for.