Work Text:
“Goddamn,” Jack smirked. “I never thought you’d be asking me for advice. I sure as hell never thought it would be about getting inked.”
“You are my significant other,” Miranda reminded her. “And you are, obviously, something of an expert on the subject.” She gestured at Jack’s multiple tattoos, all on display as she sprawled across the foot of Miranda’s bed in the XO’s quarters, waiting for Miranda to join her for bed. “It won’t even be my first.” Jack blinked in surprise, and peered at Miranda’s uncovered skin. “I had the first one removed,” Miranda admitted.
“What was it?”
Miranda sighed. “You’re going to hate this but… it said ‘The Illusive Man is my copilot.’”
Jack snorted with disgust. “At least you had the good fucking sense to get rid of it before you let me see it.”
Miranda blushed, turning her unmarred skin from white to pink. “That was a consideration, yes.” She sighed. “I...was not quite twenty. I’d just joined Cerberus after they helped me relocate Oriana, and I was fully committed to their mission. And, even more so than most rebellious teenagers, I wanted to prove to the world that I wasn’t my father’s little girl anymore. I wanted something that was irretrievably mine…even if it was a terrible decision.”
“Fuck, this is so like you,” Jack barked, half-laughing. “All this drama and angst about your dad and you wind up getting a shitty tattoo.”
“Not all of us manifest our impetuous youth by breaking out of Cerberus labs and murdering guards,” Miranda snarked back.
Jack smiled: this was far more comfortable than the mushy, heart-baring bullshit the cheerleader had been trying earlier. A little bantering, a little bickering, maybe a little hate-fucking later, maybe a little cuddling after that. Miranda seemed more at ease as well. Which was good, she guessed, whatever. Oh shit, Jack thought as Miranda’s smile turned sad. Shit’s about to get heavy again.
“Anyway, call it repeating the mistakes of my youth, but I’d like to get a new tattoo, just like the last time I cut an abusive father-figure out of my life. Maybe,” she plunked down next to Jack, and let one hand trail up and down her back, from the cleft of her buttocks to between her shoulders. Jack fought the urge to purr with contentment. “Maybe something to commemorate this fleeting moment. We can’t have too long before Commander Shepard finishes the handful of missions still on the docket and she has to turn herself and the Normandy over to the Alliance. Maybe,” and even Jack could notice the way Miranda’s heart caught in her throat, “something to commemorate us.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean!?” Jack sprang up out of bed and paced out and back to jab a finger at Miranda. “You going to put me off in some safe little box like you did your kid sister? Move on without me, oh so fucking noble? Well, fuck that! I didn’t put all that work into trusting your extremely fine ass just so you can dump me.”
“No! No, I just…” Miranda stood, and closed her eyes. “I see how you might draw that conclusion, and I apologize. I just meant…you mean a lot to me. And I want to carry you with me.” She took Jack’s accusatory finger, kissed its tip, then the palm of her hand, and pressed it to her chest, close enough for Jack to feel Miranda’s heartbeat. “As close as I can. I don’t want to give up on you, either. So, will you give me some advice on a new tattoo?”
“My handprint on your ass,” Jack blurted out, and Miranda’s eyebrows raised before she chewed on her cheek as if she were actually considering it. “Don’t do that,” Jack added hastily. “Besides, I can put that mark there anytime I like.” She punctuated the sentiment with a slap of Miranda’s backside. “Is it going to be to show off? Or just for you?”
“Just for me, probably. I don’t like the idea of having a lot of distinguishing marks on record. I’ll probably be living incognito as long as either my father or the Illusive Man are still out there.”
“What about a nice simple circle?” Jack traced the shape on Miranda’s hip, then knelt to repeat it on her ankle. “Here, or here. ‘O’ for your sister;” she stood, and gulped. “Zero for me.”
“You know, I rather like that,” Miranda mused. “I’ll have to find someone who can do that, the next time we’re planetside.”
“So I helped?” Jack asked, a little more eagerly than she meant.
“You did,” Miranda agreed. “Fancy a reward?” And with the half-turn of Miranda’s head towards the bed, Jack grinned with anticipation.