A/N: I could not think of a proper title for this for the life of me. This is a follow up to the Convict & The Loyalist, Loyalist & Convict [oh so cleverly named] stories I did previously. I did say I'd write some more MiriJack after the third game [and I am glad I waited] but ME3 doesn't give you a whole hell of a lot to work with. I did my best. Oh and yes, a good half of this is smut. The other half is a lot of dialogue. The second chapter won't be as smutty but this one is. But this is the first part of two chapters. This takes place just before ME3 events, the second will take place just after, I believe.

Jack is an unexpected sight. Miranda wryly notes that she's masturbated to a woman who wasn't as attractive. Jack's hair has grown out and she's gained enough weight that she no longer looks emaciated. Her eyes are softer. Miranda reminds herself not to get lost in them. Jack had hurriedly turned around upon Miranda walking into the room. Is she embarrassed? Miranda picks up a digital card addressed to Jack from one of the classes. "I can't believe they've left you in charge of children."

"Fuck you, Cerberus bitch."

She sets the card down. "I'm not Cerberus anymore," she says cuttingly.

"I'll drop the 'Cerberus' part."

Miranda looks around Jack's quarters. Miranda suspects these are the best quarters she's ever had. The space is tidy: there's a desk, desk chair, bed, closet and a bathroom situated to the right. A window covers half of the wall that faces northward, providing a spectacular view of the campus. Miranda arrived only minutes ago, using falsified documents that she isn't sure will go entirely undetected. Kahlee Sanders greeted her upon entry. An exuberant brunette with light blue eyes politely but resentfully brought Miranda to Jack's room.

"I really can't believe that you're allowed to watch over children." Miranda says again. "That one, Rodriguez, has her eyes set on you."

"Yeah, it's hard to miss. Kid's a pain in the ass."

"Taken her to bed yet?"

Jack crinkles her face. "They're my kids. That's fucked up."

Miranda is able to keep a smile from her face. "I'm… mildly relieved to hear that."

"Mildly relieved my ass. We haven't seen each other in months. I can't believe you're still wearing that shit." She gives her a one over.

"You've never minded admiring my assets before." And it isn't as if she has the luxury of shopping for new outfits. Cerberus tracks everything.

Jack scoffs. "That was before."

"And now?" Miranda asks. Jack shrugs. "You look good, Jack. I'm surprised."

"Fuck you."

"You still can't handle a compliment."

Jack looks away from her, throwing data pads around on her desk. She stacks the data pads before sweeping them into a desk drawer. "You still don't know how to give them." She gives up, turns around, pushes the hair back from her face. "Why are you really here?"

A beat. "I wanted to see you. Something's happening," she hurries onward, "something big."

"Your sis?"

Miranda clenches her jaw. "Something more than that. Larger than that." A slight shake of her head.

"You scared, Cheerleader?" Jack frowns and smiles at the same time. "Shit. Whatever it is, pound into it until it stops moving." Miranda is unconvinced. "Works well enough for me." She stops, shrugs her jacket off, throws it on the back of her chair. "That why you're here? Needed someone to beat on the big bad? I owe you for Logasiri. Could take a leave of absence from teaching for a bit," she walks around her, "not too long though. Those little shits would be lost without me."

"I can't believe this." Miranda crosses her arms. "Do you actually care for those children?" A narrowing of her eyes. "You care for them."

"Screw you."

"You do." Miranda ignores Jack's glower. "It doesn't seem so long ago that the both of us were smart enough to not form emotional attachments." Jack's eyebrows lift gently and then she has her back to her again, picking up an errant data pad that has fallen beneath the desk. "Professor Jack."

She throws the data pad on the desk. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not."

"You dropped off the grid."

"Yes. I'm afraid it was necessary." Miranda studies the tattoos on Jack's back and her arms. She knows exactly how long it's been since those spindly, muscled arms wrapped around her, since those fingers tattooed with 'DEATH' were inside of her. Her fingers have always been long and knobby, fingertips red, fingernails short and stubby. Always efficient. "Did you miss me?"

Jack scoffs. "That a trick question?"

"Not everything's a trick."

"Usually is with you." Jack reclines into the desk crossing her arms. "Guess you're right, though. It's not always a trick. There was a while when I didn't hear from you in so long—I thought you were dead. Then I remembered you're too stubborn and obnoxious to die. Like a roach or something?"

"A roach? That's charming." Maybe Jack comparing her to a roach is her way of telling Miranda she's missed her.

"Kids think so."

"Children can be very stupid."

"Ah, there's that motherly instinct of yours." She pauses, a grimace on Miranda's face. "How's Ori?"

"Fine," sharply. Then—"I don't know." She averts her eyes. "I've been so busy trying to monitor the people who are monitoring her… Anyway, she's fine, for now. I'm doing everything I can. I've got to keep her safe. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," a wry smirk, "I do. How's everything else?" Miranda arches her eyebrows in question. "Way I hear it, you pissed off the Illusive Man." Miranda tsks with irritation at the mention. "After we went our ways…"

"He's sent some very capable agents my way. Fortunately, I'm more than capable and I always take the right precautions." Except for this venture here. "He'll have to weigh which he prefers more—one dead defector or a graveyard of dead agents."

"I know which one I would've preferred a while back."

"You've changed your mind then?"

"Didn't say that."

"Say it now."

She purses her lips. "After this visit you just going to be gone again?"

"That's a strong possibility. Yes. I will be."

"And you're here for what…" she rolls her neck, presenting nonchalance, "a fuck?"

"I'm here for you." That shuts her up. "I can't stay long."

"So you are here for a fuck. Or something else. That Project Overlord kid is here. Did you know that? That why you're here?"

"I told you I'm not Cerberus anymore. I just told you why I'm here." The declaration sounds very much like a question 'are you stupid?'

She shrugs her shoulders as if the conversation were unimportant. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

"I don't—" she blinks. "Did you just apologize?"

Jack moves away from the desk. "Don't get used to it, Princess."

"Now you're just being difficult."

"Told you—old habits die hard. We talked more than we fucked. Weird."

"That isn't the only thing we did."

"Fought too, I guess."


Jack keeps her arms crossed and looks out the window to the magnificent architecture of the school, the sloping ivory buildings, the towers and walkways, the gardens, the endlessness of the blue sky. Her profile is perfect. Miranda won't tell her. "Yeah."

"It was a mistake coming here. I should have been stronger. I shouldn't have come. Who knows what danger I've put you and the school in if they've somehow managed to track me here. They've been on my heels for months."

"Yeah? Well let 'em come. I'm training these kids to kick ass. They can take 'em."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Cerberus has changed. The soldiers are stronger—something is different."

"Yeah. Yeah. But like I said—let them come. No one's going to touch my kids. No one."

Miranda smiles quizzically. "They can count on you. I would." Jack looks at her. "It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. After Shepard was grounded and we separated—I really did mean to find you. Everything spun out of control faster than I anticipated. I've barely had a moments rest."

"Haven't been twiddling my fucking thumbs waiting here for you, Cheerleader. Get over yourself. In case you missed it—I've been doing shit, too. Good shit." She frowns. "All of this here… I like it. It… I don't know. Fixes something I never thought could be fixed. I'm helping these kids. Kids that Cerberus—"

"Yes. I know. I thought it might. Who do you think sent the recommendation?" Miranda tenses at having said the words aloud, realizing too late that she shouldn't have. Jack turns to her, eyes narrowed. "You got accepted of your own merit. I've read the reports. Everyone is impressed with your work."

"Why'd you have to meddle?"

"It wasn't meddling. Not really." She's embarrassed. "You like your work. You earned it. There are enough things to be angry about without looking for others."

"Maybe." Her fingers uncurl.

"Jack… I'm happy for you."

Jack rests her hands on her hips as if not knowing what to do with them. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

"Are you flustered?" Teasing.

"What? No."

"I can't remember the last time you thanked me for anything."

"Didn't have much to be thankful for, Cheerleader."

"Well… I know better than to keep waiting. I'll have to treasure the one I just got."

Jack smirks.

"You don't look like typical Alliance," Miranda says, "if they put you on a recruiting poster…"

"Fuck that."

"You might be able to pull in a few unconventional recruits," she's closer now, "but what is this you're wearing? Does gauze pass off as clothing these days? This isn't standard Alliance issue." She pulls at the strap along her shoulder. Jack's typically brown eyes pulse biotic blue. "You're showing off so much it leaves little to the imagination."

"Who needs an imagination?"

"I've had to make do," her finger slips beneath the surprisingly stiff fabric. Yes, she's had to make do on many nights, thinking of their time together on the Normandy, remembering the feel of Jack's tongue along her. Her own fingers have had to make do. They've never been enough. "Doesn't this scratch?"

"It's an itch I can reach." Jack's eyes return to their usual brown. She takes Miranda's wrist. "I have class soon." Miranda's disappointed. "So if you came here for me… let me have it. Gotta say, I've missed talking to people," her eyes dart away from Miranda. "Don't really fit in with the Alliance brass. You know these fuckers won't let me swear during lessons? For fuck's sake."

"Regardless you remain a popular teacher." Miranda says. Jack shrugs in response. "What does it feel like? To have people look up to you?"

"And not just think of me as some convict junkie? Can't lie, it's not all bad. But fuck 'em. I'm not here for them—I'm here for these kids. Maybe with a biotic bitch on their side they'll stand a chance—from all those Cerberus assholes and all the other ones who are looking to take advantage of them. Give 'em the shot I never had. Least I can do." She shakes her head. "Fucking Shepard. I should be living the pirate life right now. Instead I'm teaching kids how to use their powers safely? She's fucked me in the head."

"Shepard has a way of doing that."


"Yeah." Miranda goes to the window. Time is running out and they're wasting what little of it they've got. "We left things…undecided. It was good, wasn't it?"

"The scissoring?"

Miranda frowns. "That isn't exactly what I meant." Though that wasn't bad either. She sighs. "I'm not fooling myself. This isn't a story where you leave this world behind and we become fugitives on the run. That's all very romantic—"

"Didn't think you found anything romantic."


"Where does that leave us?"

"You tell me." They've never been ones to ignore the elephant in the room and yet they're both dancing around the issue. "I wanted to see a familiar face." She sighs, depressed. "Yours is the only one I couldn't resist. I had to see you, in person."

"Why?" Jack looks out the window.

Miranda looks at her. "Do you have to ask why?"

Jack shifts the weight from one leg to another. "Asked that question a lot since you've been gone. Never gotten an answer."

"You know the answer."

They turn to each other at the same time. There's a moment of uncertainty and then they clutch at each other, lips coming together heatedly. Jack's kiss is ferocious but not violent like before. This is different. This is passion. Miranda's hands seize the gauze 'clothing' she wears and rips it away. Jack's eyes glow blue as their mouths find each other again. Miranda's hands slide to Jack's breasts, nipples hardening beneath her touch.

Miranda hears fabric tearing, buttons from her uniform coming away until Jack has peeled away the jacket she wears, has taken her face in her hands and kissed her again. Miranda is irritated at how her head spins.

"I've thought of you," Miranda murmurs between kisses, Jack's mouth on the corner of her lips, the words barely escaping, the words just swallowed. "I've thought of you more than I can say."

"Tell me," the hoarseness of her voice is a greater vice than her fingers on her face.

"Every day," Miranda confesses.

Jack's eyes soften. Miranda crushes their lips together again, tongues tangling hotly before breaking the kiss, circling her lips around Jack's nipples, gloriously exposed, as opposed to just barely hidden by straps she calls clothing. Jack's hand tangles in Miranda's hair, gripping tightly, bringing her closer, wanting her tongue and teeth. "Ah, fuck," she gasps. Miranda continues her efforts, hands sliding to Jack's hips to tug her pants down. "I have class soon," she hisses.

"We have time." But it's a lie. They don't have time, not nearly enough of it. This is a stall tactic, this is all she'll have for who knows how long. Maybe the rest of her life.

Miranda leads her to the bed, pushes her down on her knees, moving swiftly behind her, pressed to her back. Jack reaches behind her, hand settling on Miranda's ass and pulling her close. Miranda circles an arm around Jack's shoulders, sliding a hand between Jack's legs. Jack's legs tremble, her breasts heaving. Miranda's fingers trail along the inside of her thigh, searching and moving upward until they arrive, stroking Jack's wet center until her breaths come in sharp stabs of air. She takes a deep, shaking breath when Miranda places a solitary kiss to her shoulder.

"Cheerleader…" Jack is all irritation. Miranda places another kiss on her neck. "Princess…" The agitated tone is only half-there now, sounding pained. Miranda's fingers slide along her slick folds, tracing her edges before she eases two fingers inside her. Jack shudders around her, taking a rasping breath. Miranda inserts another finger and Jack cries out. Miranda doesn't recall her sounding this way, vulnerable and demanding.

Miranda gently pushes on Jack's shoulder until the woman is on all fours in front of her. She settles a hand on the small of her back and withdraws her fingers, listening to the scratchy tones of Jack's voice, her cries small and drawn out. When Miranda thrusts her fingers into Jack again she takes hold of her hip, pulling her back. Jack cries out again. "Goddamn it," Jack's fingers clutch the sheets of the bed, "how can you still do this to me?"

Miranda bows, pressing her full lips to Jack's back. She has remembered the pattern to her tattoos perfectly, no surprise there. Her flesh is still so hot. "Do you want me to stop?" she murmurs.

"I'll fucking kill you."

"I should stop," her fingers exit, finding her clit, grazing it at first before rubbing it until Jack is reduced to soft, pitiful sounds. Miranda can't remember the last time she was so excited, the last time she wanted to be taken with so much force. But this is another first, at least for a lover—she wants to satisfy Jack until she surrenders wholly to her.


"Don't what?"

"Don't…" Jack pants, "please. Miranda…" she sighs again, "Miranda, I…"

Miranda presses to her, Jack's hips still raised, arching into her hand. Miranda flips her on her back, kneeling between her legs. Jack's thighs wrap around her hips. Miranda gives her no relief, fingers working tirelessly between Jack's legs, listening to her every pitch and hitch of breath, paying close attention to the rising and falling of her moans, eyes burning bright blue one moment, back to brown in the next before Jack twists up and brings their mouths together. Jack's fingers dig beneath the pants Miranda wears, she yanks them down. It isn't enough to remove them but it's more than enough to give her the access she needs. The kiss is bruising but not as deliciously powerful as the fingers that Jack slips into Miranda, making her moan into Jack's mouth.

Jack's fingers actually pulse and vibrate. A new use for biotics? How juven—Miranda gasps at the same time that Jack does. Jack's touch is relentless. She speaks filth into her ear that makes Miranda wetter still. If Miranda's mind could form thoughts—"Ah—!" she pushes against Jack's fingers, pushing her further inside, never letting her own fingers abandon their task, there's motion and friction until they're not bothering to contain their groans, incapable of manners or consideration for any who might be passing in the halls. They kneel, bodies mashed together, riding each other's fingers, free hands digging painfully into each others hips but they don't notice, won't notice until later after they're long gone and the bruises have formed.

Until then: this. The searing, scalding kisses, the persistent tongues gliding along each others, tracing lips, the playful bites until all they're reduced to are delirious and breathless sighs, eyes locked in a daze and they shake, shake as the pleasure tears through them and leaves them breathless.

They're quiet for a minute.

Miranda touches her face and recognizes that in some instances memories are hardly suitable substitutes for the real thing. "I wish I could stay."

"Yeah," her voice is scratchy, her eyes heavy and half-lidded. "Miranda…" She burrows her face in her neck. They fall back on the bed, still trying to catch their breath. "I needed that. I needed…" she closes her eyes, draping an arm along her forehead.

Miranda continues to glide her fingers along Jack, feeling her small quakes beneath her touch. "Maybe after this business with Cerberus…"

"Yeah. Yeah." She looks at her. "If you need help—"

"Thanks. But I've got a handle on it. Not that I don't appreciate it." She sighs and sits up, pulling up the pants that Jack had crudely shoved down. "I've stayed longer than I meant to. Thank you, Jack. This is the first time since everything that I've been able to… be at peace. It never lasts, of course." It pains her that for all their time apart, their reunion is limited to less than an hour.

Jack lifts her hips to yank her pants up. She sits up. Her hair came loose sometime during their tryst and she ties it up again. "Guess this is another goodbye." She scoffs. "Why'd you even come back?"

Miranda doesn't know why she's stung. "So this was a mistake?"

"Wouldn't say that."

"What would you say?"

"You make it impossible to forget about you." Jack slides off the bed and gets to her feet, rubbing her fingers gently. She keeps her back to her.

Miranda remembers the size and pressure of them inside of her, can still almost feel them working her like a phantom. If only she could stay. "That would make us even."

"You know…" Jack's voice is small. Miranda waits. Jack shakes her head. Miranda stands and buttons her jacket. "Hey. We ever going to see each other again?"

"There was a point when we were making plans." They had made plans tentatively after they'd defeated the Collectors. All of them had fallen through. Oriana came first. Oriana always has to come first. Miranda contacting Grissom Academy on Jack's account had been a consolation prize, her way of making amends. Was it enough?

"That was a while back."

"So you remember."

"I haven't forgotten anything." A beeping goes off. Jack looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Time for class." She fixes the gauze fabric material along her chest, strategically covering herself. Miranda sees why the students have a crush. Jack throws her jacket on. She looks at the door as if it were the end of the line. "You'd better be careful. You'd better not do anything stupid." She clutches Miranda's jacket and pulls her close.

"Is that a threat?" She allows a faint smile. "I can't promise anything." She sees the look in Jack's eyes and stoops to lying, for once, for the sake of someone else and not for her own gain. "Fine. I promise." Shepard would laugh.

Jack looks at her, eyes narrowed, leaning closer. "I'll fucking kill you if you don't." she reluctantly releases her. "I have to teach the twerps how to throw up some decent barriers. You'd think this shit was rocket science." She walks slowly to the door. "Miranda…"

Miranda waits.

"Thanks for the fuck." Jack watches her. Miranda stares at her. "You have another word for what we just did? Yeah, we've done the other thing. That wasn't it, though." Miranda doesn't have a response. If they'd 'done the other thing' she isn't sure she could walk away. "Hey. You know what I mean. Don't you?"

"Jack… we're too old for these games."

Jack waffles where she stands. "Come here." Miranda does. "You always make me feel like I'm losing my shit. Even when I finally have a grip on things, you know?"

"I think I might have an idea."

"It's like I'm safe… but scared out of my mind at the same time. Shit. I hate what you do to my head." They share another small kiss. Miranda tucks a lock of hair behind Jack's ear. Jack blushes. "Look… I care about you." She looks away. "You're important to me. So don't fucking go and die on me, okay? Give Cerberus hell."

She exits the room swiftly, not leaving Miranda the opportunity to say goodbye. Miranda looks around the room and tries to remember every piece of Jack, every shred of her world.