Samantha Traynor had heard stories about Miranda Lawson, of course. There was something about spending time with soldiers that meant an evening's entertainment, whether it be cards, drinking, asari strip joints or all three, always ended up with reminiscing about past battles and comrades.
So Traynor shouldn't have been surprised that Miranda was drop-dead gorgeous, but was still stunned speechless. She had been friends with many beautiful women in her life – even serving with many of them on the Normandy – but there was something extra about Lawson, something captivating. And not just her ass.
The former Cerberus agent looked to be getting into the spirit of the party – from where Samantha was standing, Miranda appeared to be talking shit with some of the boys, and matching dry wits with Shepard. But there was something very reserved about her.
Sam felt strangely compelled to try to find out what Miranda Lawson was like relaxed and unfiltered. Unclothed would undoubtedly be a bonus, but unfortunately the stories she had heard never went into any level of detail about who she took to bed.
Screwing up her courage and thinking positive thoughts, she made her way over to where Lawson was listening to a Krogan recounting his adventures.
She tried to think about whether she could use what she had already heard about the Cerberus operative to her advantage, but fire-fight stories didn't usually include 'favourite chocolate' or anything useful like that. Her unique upbringing even ruled out the old classic “Did you grow up in a lab? Cos that body looks genetically engineered to be perfect.”
“So, I hear you killed your father?” Nope.
“If you spend the night with me, I guarantee we'll live up to Cerberus' motto – humans come first!” Nope.
“Just how much did you enjoy serving under Jane Shepard, and how could I convince you to serve under me?” Nope.
By the time she arrived at Miranda's side she was mostly terrified she would say something completely inappropriate.
“Hello.” The goddess greeted her with a polite smile and a nod.
“Nice catsuit!” Sam blurted in a panic. Sculpted eyebrows rose in a little bit of surprise. “I mean, I just get assigned a uniform, but you and Ashley and Samara...where do you even shop for them?” She rambled, trying to hide a grimace at her own idiocy. There was an awkward pause in which Miranda successfully hid a grin at the younger woman's nerves.
“Miranda Lawson.” She held out a hand.
“Oh! I'm Samantha Traynor.” She shook the other woman's hand, wondering what firmness of grip would give the impression of having sexy hands.
“The Kepesh-Yakshi player.” Miranda recognised the name. “An intriguing game, but complicated. I don't know how you do it.”
“Hah, well, you know what they say...” Sam chuckled slightly. Miranda just tilted her head, apparently not knowing what they said. “Oh. Well, you know...Kepesh Yakshi players do it on tables!”
Miranda snorted at the terrible joke and shook her head. “I suppose that's better than 'Kepesh Yakshi players do it with shock-controllers'.” She suggested dryly, and Samantha's boisterous laugh in response made Lawson smile a little herself.
“But I bet you'd be good at it.” Sam noted once she calmed a little. Miranda just gave her a suggestive smirk. “Oh! No...the game. Because you're a scientist. Although, that other thing too, definitely.” She blushed and wished that her skin was dark enough to hide it.
Miranda was a little charmed. She couldn't remember the last time she had met someone as genuine as Sam, whose thoughts and emotions seemed to play out transparently over her face. It was also nice to talk to someone who wasn't interested only in discussing the size of his gun – depressingly common when soldiers got together.
“Thankyou.” Miranda responded graciously. “That means a lot coming from someone that I'm told is...particularly skilled.”
Traynor's eyes got a little wider, Lawson's Mona Lisa smile not giving away whether the woman was actually flirting back or simply discussing space-chess.
“Really?” The comms specialist cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly dry. “Who said that?”
“Hmm,” Miranda pretended to search her memory, “I think it was EDI who told me she'd had the pleasure of seeing you in action.” She thoroughly enjoyed watching Traynor's face as she tried to work out if they were talking about Kepesh Yakshi. EDI's omnipotence throughout the Normandy made for dozens of jokes among the crew about what the AI had actually witnessed. Suddenly the Comm's specialist's face dropped.
“Oh god. She didn't tell you anything about my toothbrush, did she?!” Traynor sounded genuinely panicked until she saw the expression on Miranda's face. “...she didn't. Okay, good. That's good.”
Miranda couldn't help herself, and a laugh of genuine amusement tore out of her at the eccentric genius she was speaking with.
Sam grinned a little sheepishly, knowing that she'd managed to come across as slightly mad, but not minding in the least if it meant seeing Miranda's face light up like that again.
“Hard to believe I'm a communications specialist when I talk like that, isn't it?” She asked with a self-deprecating smile. “Somehow it's a whole lot easier when quantum entanglement's involved.”
“I hear it was your skill in tracking Kai Leng and noting that all signals in Iera were blocked that brought the Normandy to Sanctuary.” Miranda answered, smiling but a little more serious. “So it will take more than your mysterious toothbrush to make me doubt you.”
“Thank you.” Sam couldn't help feeling a little proud.
“Although if you're going to be really impressive I'll need to help you shop for catsuits.” Miranda deadpanned, giving her an obvious once-over. Sam smacked Lawson's arm lightly, before suddenly seeing an opportunity present itself.
“I'm not certain of my measurements,” Sam admitted coyly, “do you think you'd be able to guess them?”
Miranda hummed thoughtfully, putting her drink down and taking one of Samantha's hands. “Maybe if I took a closer look.” And she tugged the eager specialist towards the bedroom.