Polite Conversation | By : MissionFromBog Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 14640 -:- 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. |
"You cannot be serious." Ashley Williams looked open-mouthed at Miranda Shepard across the round wrought-iron table, her knife and fork balancing precariously on the edge as they dropped from nerveless fingers. "You can't just sit at the breakfast table and ask me if I want to screw your husband!" She bit off the end of her sentence, cheeks flaring as she picked up her silverware, using it as an excuse to look down.
"Oh?" Miranda's voice was light, richly amused, delightfully crisp like the sound of biting into a ripe apple. "I'm sorry. Where should I sit?"
"That is *not* what I meant!" But it was enough to make her laugh, a little, and look back up at Miranda. Try as she might, Ashley couldn't stop her eyes from flicking up and down over Miranda's body. She wore a light, transparent cotton wrap over a barely-there black bikini that did nothing to hide her curves, a light sea breeze plucking at the white flower in her hair and blowing raven-black strands across her face. Miranda's smile was impish, inviting, and Ashley took a deep breath as her green tank top suddenly felt far too tight across her chest. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look into Miranda's eyes. "You know the Skipper and I have...a past." Regret flared through her at those words, memories of Horizon and the Citadel that she carefully pushed down.
"Yes." Miranda lifted her long-stemmed glass with one graceful motion, sipping her mimosa in a way that somehow called attention to the snow-white curve of her jaw against the sky and sand. "I know. John and I share...everything." Somehow she made the last word come out in a way that sent a shiver up Ashley's spine. "But I know you. I don't think you'd try to steal him from me-"
"I'd never-"
"I know. Let me finish." Miranda held up a hand, taking a breath in a way that seemed to just-barely crack her smooth, seductive air. "I know you that well, at least, and I know John. He's never been all the way there, since we brought him back from the Crucible. He walks, he talks, but I don't think he can let go of the war enough to really live." Her eyes met Ashley's, sky-blue and open. "I think he needs some help."
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