Polite Conversation | By : MissionFromBog Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 14641 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters or situations. No money is being made from this story. |
John Shepard set his skycar down on the beach house's pad with a deft touch and sighed, leaning back in the pilot's seat and letting himself have thirty seconds to close his eyes and calm his thoughts. Visiting the wounded in Earth's hospitals was never easy, but it was something he had to do- so many of them had been hurt during the months he'd been away from Earth, or during the last battle against the Reapers. It never failed to amaze him how much it cheered them up to see him, shake his hand, talk to him and thank him for what he'd done. It had been his plans that had led to so many being wounded...and so many more being dead.
He tried to leave that behind him when he came home, to be the husband he knew Miranda deserved, but it wasn't easy. Hell, he even felt guilty looking out at the place. Millions were homeless on Earth, cities ruined, thousands still trying to make their way home through the still-shaky mass relay network. Why should John Shepard, of all people, have a beautiful beach house?
After a long moment, he raised the access door and stepped out, making his way to the front door. Chances were he'd have some damage control to do here as well. He hadn't been able to talk Miranda out of spending the day in with Ash while he went out, and he was willing to bet there had been sparks. Much as he loved her, Miranda could be quite...frank and talking casually about their romantic and sex lives probably wasn't going to endear her to Ash. Hopefully they were still speaking, he thought as the door swung open.
"In here, Skipper!" Ash's voice was light, clear, and John relaxed a bit as he made his way to the sunroom. He could hear muffled giggling, and relaxed a bit more. Maybe things had gone better than...
Yeah, his mind finished as he stepped into the door, eyes going wide. A lot better.
Ash was propped up on her elbows on the edge of the big futon, a wicked little smile he'd only seen a few times before on her face. She wore a green tank top and plain grey Alliance-issue panties, an outfit that managed to be vaguely military while leaving nothing to the imagination. And Miranda...Miranda was naked except for a pair of black heels, kneeling with her cheek resting on Ashley's thigh, pale blue eyes serene as she smiled at him. John stopped dead, jaw dropping open, feeling his cock start to pulse with blood as he took in the scene.
"What-" he closed his eyes, shook his head, opened them. Nope. Still there. "What have you two been-"
"Talking, Skipper." Ash's voice had a throaty undertone to it as she sat up, her arms still pushed back on the bed in a way that pushed her chest out against the thin top. "Teaching and learning some, too, but mostly talking. About you."
"Me?"
Ashley nodded and stood, her hand sliding down into Miranda's midnight-black hair. "You. You haven't been whole since the war ended, Skipper. And no matter how much you try to hide it, Miranda knows that. So do I, after being here a few days. You're carrying a lot inside you, in the place where it just...eats you up from the inside out. And neither of us are going to allow that."
"Oh?" Shepard crossed his arms over his chest. "And you're going to...what, solve that with a little show and some play-acting? I know you, Ash. This isn't you, no matter what Miranda's talked you into doing."
"Don't." Shepard jerked back a little as Ashley stood, her hand still in Miranda's hair. "Don't tell me what I am, Skipper. I'm an N7 now. I'm a Spectre. I've learned black ops, espionage, what I like, and how to get it. I've found out what's important to me, and I'm not going to let it go." Her voice softened a bit. "I'm not your damaged Gunny anymore, Skipper. I'm not the scared little girl that hurt you on Horizon. And my eyes are up here."
Shepard jerked at that last, hastily pulling his chin up from where his eyes had wandered down to Ashley's chest. Her smirk told him that his attention hadn't been unplanned or unwelcome.
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