Need to Know 3/? (Miranda/Ashley)
anonymous
August 29 2014, 00:37:28 UTC
The impact forced the remaining air out of Miranda’s lungs and she was gasping for air loudly while they fell, crashing into the concrete tilings of the ground floor terrace with Miranda still miraculously on top. Pain blossomed in her chest and her leg, still tangled with the phantom’s, and she would have screamed, had she been able to make a sound. She tasted blood in her mouth, her head was throbbing as she knocked her forehead on the phantom helmet and she was wheezing for air that just didn’t want to fill her lungs.
Miranda rolled off the probably dead phantom and onto her back, hurting all over, desperate for a gasp of air. The pain from her ribs made her back arch, and the shock was finally enough that she could draw a loud, rasping breath.
It was over, and she was alive, at least for now. She only needed a few minutes to catch her breath, assess her injuries and drag herself to safety, preferably before C-Sec arrived. Drawing another painful breath she realized there was no way she would make it, so she just laid there motionless, staring up at the dark ceiling above the embassies, enjoying the cool night, waiting for her fate.
She might have blacked out for a few seconds, because in the next moment there was movement above her, and a dark, lean shape appeared as she jumped down from the second floor, with the grace and quiet of a prowling feline. A third phantom, maybe? “Miranda Lawson?” the shadow said and stepped forward to stand above her. She was not Cerberus, although the prowess and shape could have been. She was Alliance. Miranda groaned, recognizing the woman.
“Congratulations, Commander Williams,” Miranda croaked. “You got me.” But Ashley Williams just shook her head, lowering her gun that pointed at her. “We need to get you out of here before C-Sec arrives.” Miranda let her head drop back, closing her eyes and letting out a painful sigh. “The Alliance doesn’t like to share?” “I’m not taking you in.”
Miranda opened her eyes, looking up at Williams, squinting. The marine was checking out the Phantom, poking her head with her boot to check if she was out, not even pointing a gun at Miranda. She seemingly lost interest in her and only found the dead Cerberus assassin slightly more worthy of her attention.
“Why?” Ashley Willams scoffed, looking around with a bored expression. “Would you talk if I brought you in?” “No.” “Would Cerberus get to you before we could make you talk?” “Yes.”
Ashley shrugged. “Then I’m not taking you in.” She turned her attention back at Miranda. “I want to talk to you about Shepard. In private.” Miranda closed her eyes and swallowed, taking a ragged breath to hide her surprise. She nodded.
“Okay.” “Can you stand up?” “Not for a while.” A pause. The marine was weighing her options. “How bad is it?” “A sprained ankle. A couple of broken ribs, probably.”
Williams nodded, stepped above her and kneeled down, one knee between her thighs. She looked her over with a blank expression, a marine checking the casualties. She holstered her gun. “I’m gonna lift you up on your feet and I’m gonna need both hands. If you try something tricky, just remember, that I can outrun ya.” Williams offered.
Miranda snorted, which also made her wince. She just nodded silently. “I will put my hands behind your back to keep your spine straight while you stand up, so you don’t puncture your lungs or something. Just pull your legs under you as fast as you can,” Williams explained matter-of-factly, like a paramedic.
“Okay,” Miranda whispered. She really wanted to get out of here. “Ready?” the marine asked and when Miranda nodded, she leaned over her, slipped one palm to the small of her back, to the base of her spine, the other one between her shoulder blades. “Grab my neck,” she said quietly.
Miranda wrapped her arms around the marine’s neck, the closeness and the implied intimacy of the position making her blush with confusion. Fortunately she could hide it by burying her face in Williams’ neck, which just increased the sensation.
Miranda rolled off the probably dead phantom and onto her back, hurting all over, desperate for a gasp of air. The pain from her ribs made her back arch, and the shock was finally enough that she could draw a loud, rasping breath.
It was over, and she was alive, at least for now. She only needed a few minutes to catch her breath, assess her injuries and drag herself to safety, preferably before C-Sec arrived.
Drawing another painful breath she realized there was no way she would make it, so she just laid there motionless, staring up at the dark ceiling above the embassies, enjoying the cool night, waiting for her fate.
She might have blacked out for a few seconds, because in the next moment there was movement above her, and a dark, lean shape appeared as she jumped down from the second floor, with the grace and quiet of a prowling feline. A third phantom, maybe?
“Miranda Lawson?” the shadow said and stepped forward to stand above her. She was not Cerberus, although the prowess and shape could have been. She was Alliance. Miranda groaned, recognizing the woman.
“Congratulations, Commander Williams,” Miranda croaked. “You got me.”
But Ashley Williams just shook her head, lowering her gun that pointed at her.
“We need to get you out of here before C-Sec arrives.”
Miranda let her head drop back, closing her eyes and letting out a painful sigh.
“The Alliance doesn’t like to share?”
“I’m not taking you in.”
Miranda opened her eyes, looking up at Williams, squinting. The marine was checking out the Phantom, poking her head with her boot to check if she was out, not even pointing a gun at Miranda. She seemingly lost interest in her and only found the dead Cerberus assassin slightly more worthy of her attention.
“Why?”
Ashley Willams scoffed, looking around with a bored expression.
“Would you talk if I brought you in?”
“No.”
“Would Cerberus get to you before we could make you talk?”
“Yes.”
Ashley shrugged. “Then I’m not taking you in.” She turned her attention back at Miranda. “I want to talk to you about Shepard. In private.”
Miranda closed her eyes and swallowed, taking a ragged breath to hide her surprise. She nodded.
“Okay.”
“Can you stand up?”
“Not for a while.”
A pause. The marine was weighing her options.
“How bad is it?”
“A sprained ankle. A couple of broken ribs, probably.”
Williams nodded, stepped above her and kneeled down, one knee between her thighs. She looked her over with a blank expression, a marine checking the casualties. She holstered her gun.
“I’m gonna lift you up on your feet and I’m gonna need both hands. If you try something tricky, just remember, that I can outrun ya.” Williams offered.
Miranda snorted, which also made her wince. She just nodded silently.
“I will put my hands behind your back to keep your spine straight while you stand up, so you don’t puncture your lungs or something. Just pull your legs under you as fast as you can,” Williams explained matter-of-factly, like a paramedic.
“Okay,” Miranda whispered. She really wanted to get out of here.
“Ready?” the marine asked and when Miranda nodded, she leaned over her, slipped one palm to the small of her back, to the base of her spine, the other one between her shoulder blades. “Grab my neck,” she said quietly.
Miranda wrapped her arms around the marine’s neck, the closeness and the implied intimacy of the position making her blush with confusion. Fortunately she could hide it by burying her face in Williams’ neck, which just increased the sensation.
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