Work Text
Miranda Lawson dabbed at her brow with a sterile cloth as she stared at the culture samples. She'd been working on this specific part of the project for almost a month now, and now it was yielding some viable results. The chances were low, but worth it. She'd done all she could to maintain the progress on Shepard's body and mind--but this was something she could be proud of more than anything else. The great Commander Shepard would be able to have children with the person she chose. It was hard to figure it out--Project Lazarus left her little time to do her research and psychological studies, but it was an important part of it. Commander Shepard was many things, as all humans were. It was difficult to track down who exactly held her heart--it had been a secret that was kept to the crew of the Normandy and no one else. That is, until she stumbled upon Shepard's secret side job during her N7 career. She'd actually found it by mistake, looking over places she frequented over her life, and the places her crew frequented. One stood out for all except her until after she became a Spectre. Now, at first Miranda assumed she began frequenting Chora's Den for crew moral. However, before that, it turned out that the cameras of Chora's Den had caught something entirely different. Before Elysium, Shepard had sang on stage at Chora's Den on and off. Even more interesting was the sudden appearance of a specific Turian. Said Turian got a show of flexibility, specifically Turian-centric waist touches, the teasing sound of metal chains, exposing of necks, and even a display of leg strength. He had been thoroughly caught in a snare, and when she left he'd went searching for what seemed would be a one-night stand...yet went home with no one. Before that, her shows were enticing, but not as Turian-centric. She'd bend low and show off cleavage, fling her hair in an entirely human motion, even get on her knees and crawl across the stage, giving both ends a very human show of sexuality. She'd been called Selina Kyle. A quick search came up with a character dubbed 'catwoman' in some comic Miranda knew little about. The main character--Batman--was a vigilante of sorts, a dark presence that hunted down evils of the night. It was interesting that Shepard would choose a petty thief's name as her alias, but what was much more interesting was the bookings of hotels and restaurant orders under that alias. Commander Shepard, hero of the Citadel, first human spectre, had ordered dextro and levo foods on multiple occasions. To be delivered discreetly. To several hotels. Checking camera feeds, Miranda had actually had a hard time finding Shepard. That was, until she realized the woman would wear realistic looking wigs and asari-type dresses. She always booked a room at the hotels that were Turian run, as humans usually looked somewhat the same to them. Her favorite wig was red in color that draped down her back in waves. It was almost always paired with black or green dresses--and glittering gold chains. Garrus Vakarian was easier to spot, though he was in his civilian clothing. He had distinct markings showing his place of birth, in the dark Vakarian blue that showed his family ties. He would never show up with her, but minutes to an hour later. Food would arrive shortly after his arrival, as if she knew when he'd be there. It all fit together so perfectly, though it had taken so long to even find this bit of information. Miranda had brought the Turian up to The Illusive Man, wanting to ensure Shepard's loyalty to the mission since she was forbidden to implant a control chip. Shepard was, after all, a wild card when it came to following non-professional orders. She liked to challenge others, sometimes. Other times she would take the time to get her way. And then there was the unusual--bowing to the unexpected position she was put in. She didn't want to risk Shepard challenging them, nor did she want to risk Shepard doing something unexpected and getting herself away from Cerberus. No, they needed something-anything-to keep her. When they found that Garrus had disappeared, The Illusive Man had taken things in his own hands and had Brooks begin searching for individuals that would appeal to Shepard's mothering nature. The incompetent woman was still looking. Brooks had been a short term member of the Lazarus team, having been sent as a lab assistant to the ever annoying Wilson. Dr. Wilson was brilliant, but he was also a prideful man. He was dangerous, as far as she was concerned, but he was bent on proving his theory right. She'd been, at first, wary of the Frankenstein like theory of his, but the science made sense. It took some work at Cerberus making the right technology to do it, but when they did it couldn't have been perfect timing. Shepard had died. They needed her. Humanity needed her. Standing, Miranda gracefully walked across the room--her mannerisms where well ingrained by her father--and she grabbed a vial with a blue label on it. She would make this work, by any means. She would never condone certain things, and she would make sure that those things never, ever, happened to anyone ever again. She turned with all the elegance of a dancer and walked back to her workstation. Any person deserved this choice. She was going to make sure Shepard had it. By any means necessary.