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. |
Miranda’s legs and abs burned, face flushed as her hair hung below her as she took several long breaths. Then, with a grunt, she began the slow, long pull, legs tightened as her heels lock together to keep her secure on the bar as her chest and shoulders slowly rise, stomach shaking at the effort. With agonising stubbornness, she kept her neck straight and pushed herself harder, almost hissing as her chest finally arced up to almost touch her knees before in haling deeply as she let her body relax in a controlled, slow motion. For several long seconds she hung there, letting her muscles relax as sweat dripped down her face before grunting again, this time a less controlled pull as she swung her body up then let it fall, heels unlocking and legs unfurling before she flips in mid air to gracefully land in a crouch, hair cascading around her shoulders.
A small smile cracked her lips as she stood, muscles still burning from the intense workout... the comforting, slow dull burn that mirrored her weary satisfaction as the low thrum of the engines filled the room. She rolled her shoulders and stretched out her legs, enjoying the cool air as it glided over her, the beads of sweat rolling down her face, shoulders, and stomach. She took another deep breath, focusing on the satisfying burn throughout her body then reached for the towel. With gentle dabs, she pressed the towel to her skin. She smiled at the slight ridges of her toned abs, chuckling to herself before blinking as loud clapping echoes in the bay.
“Who would have thought... the fucking perfect cheerleader actually has to work out like us normal people.” the snide tone pierced the air and Miranda groaned. “Is that why you hide down here in the middle of the night... too fucking embarrassed to show you just don’t roll out of bed looking like a goddess?”
Miranda clenched her jaw tight, eyes closing as she took several deep breaths before looking around, quickly finding the source of her annoyance Jack, kicking her feet on a set of boxes, finger waving with a sneer.
“What do you want Jack...” she sighed.
“Who says I want anything from you fucking cheerleader whore?” the sneer is almost frozen on Jack’s face, eyes flashing. “Maybe I just got fucking bored and decided to take a walk.”
Miranda just shrugs, draping the towel around her shoulders then starting to make her way back to the lift.
“Though I am surprised...” Jack snorted, leaning onto one elbow. “I would have bet anything you didn’t have real clothes... just that “hide nothing” whoresuit.”
Jack smirked and pushed herself off the crates, landing with a surprising grace before circling Miranda with mocking eyes, gazing up and down her body.
“Though really... not much better... still flaunting that ass... and that top” she waved* fucking really? You’re tits are about to fall out and knock someone out!”
Miranda glared then shook her head, as Jack continued to circle, waves of hatred just rolling from her.
“Your just jealous I have to actually use more than a strap to cover my tits...” she gave a small sneer back, eyes flicking to the much smaller and tattooed chest of the hostile former prisoner.
Jack almost growled, stepping up closer to Miranda’s face.
“At least I’m all natural bitch...” she basically spat the words into Miranda’s face. “Unlike you.... at least when I decide to fuck someone it’s all me. Too bad those unlucky bastards you drag to bed don’t know they’re fucking a god damn living doll. Or is it girls... I forget which.”
Miranda’s eyes darkened, energy crackling around her at the barb.
“O I’m sorry... didn’t mean to insult them. Forgot you could only get a varren to fuck your fake ass.” Jack’s eyes flashed, begging for a violent retaliation.
But Miranda’s eyes just stayed dark, before she calmly turned and sauntered toward the lift. Jack snarled again, flinging her arm out wildly, a burst of biotic energy knocking several heavy crates to the ground with a loud clang. Miranda just walked, waiting patiently before the lift doors opened and she stepped in, face passive.
“Fucking Cerberus bitch!”
The doors closed as Jack started to stomp off. Miranda stood still, back stiff and straight as the lift moved slowly. Several long, quiet moments passed before the doors finally hissed open and she stepped out. With quick, but steady strides, she walked to her quarters and calmly draped her towel over the side of the clothes hamper. With a sigh she leaned forward, one hand against the door of her closet while the other pinched her nose, the euphoric burning long faded as her muscles were knotting uncomfortably.
She tried to roll her shoulders to ease the tension, but sighed and pushed herself off the wall, quickly moving to slide into the chair by her console. She leaned forward onto her elbows, chin resting on her folded hands as her eyes gazed off. She sat still and silent, only the dim light of her earlier research flashing from her console. Her eyes flicked down, staring at the files for long moments before she pulled herself up straight and typed in the parameters to continue her report on Shepard’s progress and mental status, eyes darting between his current status and the long, storied list of events and Shepard’s reactions in his past.
Her eyes kept moving and fingers worked themselves into a near blur at points. But the nagging little empty pang she was desperately trying to ignore only intensified. The little echoing whisper of doubt deep in her mind refused to go quiet, only bolstered by Jack’s taunting barbs.
Is it really me.....or just my engineering?
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