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At the Edge of Heaven	By : Kabraxal Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 33511 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do now own the copyright for Mass Effect or its associated characters. This story is simply for fun and I do not make any money from this work.

Chapter List
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His finger idly circled the rim of the partially filled glass. His eyes drooped slightly, a half distant gaze locked on the smoky bronze liquid lightly rippling in the glass. He was tired, there was just no getting around that. It was already a chore to keep his eyes as focused as they were. He sighed gently. He’d have to sleep eventually. No amount of desperate stubbornness could change that. He shook his head, slightly annoyed. It wasn’t like they were nightmares to run from... far from it. Most were just simply the incoherent absurdity of jumbled dreams though a few memories slipped in from time to time. He just hated waking. Those first few moments as he woke burned inside. She was gone. The void her absence created always flared to life each morning. They reminded him painfully. It was the only time he couldn’t restrain the grief.
How long... he frowned. It was difficult to remember and it bothered him. Two...no, three months?
The finger circling the glass was soon pressed tight against his temple as he strained and pushed his way through the muck of the last few months. No. Years. It had been years. Maybe not from his unique position, but to the rest of the universe, two years had gone by. It still didn’t feel quite real. But then that really wasn’t a surprise. He was dead. He was brought to life. Reality wasn’t as simple and normal as the world loved to say.
He pressed harder against his temple. Life just couldn’t be simple. He chuckled then lowered his hand to grab the glass and take a quick swig of the scotch. Never simple, but at least it was familiar. He almost smiled as he leaned back and let his eyes wander the dimmed mess hall. It was strange. Here he was sitting in what should be an eerily similar mess on a ship that wasn’t his Normandy but... was at the same time. It should have twisted him inside. Or disturbed him at least. But he was comforted. He chuckled again at his rambling thoughts.
Why not? Long calm voyages between systems, a fire fight here and there, a dire threat lurking somewhere in the vast void of space, and just one little ship daring to fight back. He raised his glass in a silent toast. You may not be the same, but damned if you aren’t trying!
He tossed back the glass and hissed pleasantly as the scotch burned down his throat. He was adapting. Like always. He poured another glass for himself. Of course the new ship didn’t come without its quirks. Some of the new crew was harder to adapt to.
Well, mostly Jack. He admitted to himself before taking another drink at the memory of the brash, vocal, and almost lunatic nature of the young woman. He’d have to watch her closely. He could trust the Cerberus agents on board to stay that blade poised at his back... at least for now. But Jack... he wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t snap at any moment.
Yeah... well, she almost tore apart Purgatory singlehandedly. He shook his head in slight awe at that. It was impressive. And luckily she seemed to have calmed a great deal once he gave her the files from Cerberus. He shrugged. He’d watch her closely. If she snapped he’d deal with it. He’d faced worse and survived.
Hell you died and survived that! He snorted and raised his glass at that before settling into the chair with a sigh. He had to admit... it felt damn good being on the job. He hadn’t failed his mission and, more importantly, he hadn’t failed to keep his promise. His eyes closed at that and then he shook his head and leaned back again, taking long deep breaths. He was alive. And he would make sure the Reaper’s regretted ever crossing his path.
He took another sip of his drink as the doors to the left hissed open suddenly. His eyes smoothly slid over to the disturbance as Miranda walked out, her gaze instantly drawn to his and her head tilting before she simply nodded in his direction as she swerved around to the kitchen area. He dimly noted her striking eyes and soft features before slightly wincing, closing his eyes, and shaking his head.
Damn it... waaaaayyyy too tired boy... way too tired. He exhaled and took another drink. He quickly banished the brief mental lapse deep, eyes still closed, as the soft sounds of her searching echoed lightly through the mess. It was a mistake. He drifted, slumping in the chair slightly as his head lulled slightly. He didn’t notice the minutes pass.
“Commander.” he almost jumped at her voice and sat straight in the chair as he blinked. Miranda stood close by, a steaming cup in her hands. “I’m sure your bed is far more comfortable.”
He blinked some more, his eyes then narrowing slightly at the slight lilt in her words and something he swore was amusement briefly sparkling in her eyes. He shook his head and wiped his face with one hand.
“Hadn’t realised I was quite that tired.” he rolled his shoulders as Miranda looked at him for a few moments before she only nodded and turned to walk back to her quarters.
“I’m sure Doctor Chakwas can give you something if you are having trouble sleeping.” She half turned back to him. “Though if it is the implants, I may need to run some scans and...”
“No, no...” he sighed as he stood, cutting her off. Figures, worried about her precious project. He winced unconsciously at that thought. “Sleep isn’t the problem. I promise.”
She looked at him, noting his reaction with a silent sigh of her own before nodding and walking into her quarters, the doors closing quickly behind her. Shepard pinched his nose and shook his head before grabbing his glass and bottle and slowly walking to the elevator.
Sleep definitely isn’t the problem... he pushed the console for his quarters, slightly dreading the morning ritual. Even if it was growing less intense each new morning. He clenched his jaw at the stray thought sneakily slipping through and echoing in his mind.
* * *
She stretched her arms out in front of her, lacing her fingers together to gently pull her tight feeling knuckles loose. The report had been more detailed than some. She had grown quite efficient and managed to usually give concise, short reports on any mission. But sometimes a unique situation called for a little more detail and longer drawn out appraisals. Jack definitely fit that bill perfectly.
She took a deep breath and rolled her neck gently. She was actually more sore from working over the console most of the evening and night than she had been from dodging bullets on Purgatory just a few days ago. Of course, she hadn’t planned on having to put the report off for as long as she did and felt obliged to tear through it in one sitting. She sighed. It was clear she and Jack were not going to get along. At all.
First time I’ve been called a cheerleader... she stood and shrugged, more amused by the random comment than whatever she was supposed to feel. It certainly was less demeaning than Cerberus Bitch. She chuckled. Not like I haven’t been called bitch before.
She walks over to her bed and sits, noting the late hour. She sighed. She really wanted a cup of tea but it was best to try and get some rest. She slowly loosened the combat heels and pulled them off with a slight sigh, stretching her toes and ankle.
“Miranda, Miranda... why don’t you get some comfortable shoes to wear” she chuckled again as she slowly laid back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and then answering her own question in her head A woman has to look good.
She sighed. She really wasn’t sure anymore. Did she wear the shoes simply to wield her looks? Most men, and even many women, did love the style. But... did she actually like it herself? She shook her head and almost growled. What a stupid thing to wonder. She never thought about stuff like all that much before. She just did it and was damn content. She blamed Shepard. She closed her eyes. It was becoming more prominent, harder to ignore. All his greatness, his achievements... they were his. No questions asked. It was a stark reminder of their differences... of what she was. Could she really claim any of her achievements for herself?
She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing again and sitting up.
“Tea it is then.” she stood and started to walk, noticing the cold floor beneath her bare feet immediately. She stopped and then looked at the discarded heels for a moment before shrugging. It was only a few meters at most. And no one would be up. She could risk it. She took a breath, shook her head at the seconds wasted, then started walking. Sometimes her own thoughts annoyed her. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion and soreness. The doors hissed open as she pondered that idly before movement catches her eyes and she looks over, her gaze catching Shepard’s as he sits behind the mess table.
He looks tired. She tilted her head briefly before simply nodding in his direction then turning around the corner to the kitchen. He’s not in his quarter’s either... she noted as she rose on her toes and started digging for the tea on the upper shelf. She grabbed a bag and flicked on the hot water maker before grabbing a mug as she settled on her bare feet on the cold floor. She almost sighed.
Of course... she took a breath just my luck. She shook her head briefly before clenching her teeth and forcing her thoughts quickly back to Shepard. She was actually a bit glad to see him not locking himself in his quarters on off hours. It was something. She nodded at that as she went about getting the bad and mug ready before mixing the water, steam rising quickly. He seemed to be adapting, overcoming the shock finally.
She smiled slightly, dimly noting that not all of it was for the success of Lazarus. She turned to walk back to her quarters with her hot cup of tea and blinked. Shepard was slumped slightly, head lulled just to the side, fast asleep. He really was tired. She tilted her head and walked over.
“Commander.” he slightly jumped at her voice and she almost chuckled in amusement. “I’m sure your bed is far more comfortable.”
She simply held her tea as he blinked a few times, apparently pulling his thoughts together.
“Hadn’t realised I was quite that tired.” he rolled his shoulders. She looked at him, doubts creeping in before simply nodding then turning to go back to her quarters. It wasn’t any of her business. It wasn’t....... she sighed.
“I’m sure Doctor Chakwas can give you something if you are having trouble sleeping.” She half turned back to him, neck craned slightly to look over her shoulder as a worry nudged into her mind. Maybe an implant was malfunctioning. A slight twinge twisted deep inside. “Though if it is the implants, I may need to run some scans and...”
“No, no...” he cut her off. His eyes flashed angirily for a just a brief second. “Sleep isn’t the problem. I promise.”
She just looked at him for a moment, a silent sigh lifting her shoulders slightly before dropping them. She nodded and turned to walk back into her quarters. She shook her head as the doors closed. She hadn’t meant to annoy him. She took a sip of her tea as she walked to her bed before setting it down. It bothered her. She slowly worked her suit off, hanging it up before gently unsnapping her bra and tossing it in the clothes bin. Why does it bother me? She stretched one last time, free of the somewhat constricting suit, before pulling the sheets to the side then sitting and trying to calm her mind. It never bothered me before. She almost growled, again, and tried to shake it out of her head before she laid back in bed, arms spread to the side. This isn’t like you Miranda... she sighed and shimmied up to pull the covers over herself. She closed her eyes and exhaled gently, the weariness slowly claiming her as one last thought echoed in her mind.
Or maybe you just don’t want to admit it.
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At the Edge of Heaven