Author's Note: Ok, so, I am sorry for the enormous wait. A lot of things had happened, including the muse dying for a bit, but it's slowly coming back, especially now that I have some more time to really sit down and write. I want to thank all of you who have been supporting this story, whether it has been through reviews, PMs, or simply reading. I still intend to finish this, so without further ado, I present to you the next chapter. :)

P.S. Sneaky I'm sorry for not getting you to beta this...I got too eager. :p

Chapter 5 – Stop and Stare

John stared, completely shocked and immobilized. Did that just happen? His heart thrummed unevenly in his chest as he tried to process the last few minutes. He was confused. Utterly confused. His mind whirled with too much thought and he did his best not to be overcome by his tendency to overthink. Something happened just now, but, he couldn't pinpoint it – that moment of change, that moment that had just redefined their relationship – for better or for worse.

What had just happened?

The door of his humble home shut with a quiet thud – leaving him in a far more poignant sound of silence. She didn't take the screen door. She took the front. She rarely took the front door.

God, what just happened?

They had stared at one another for an undiscernible amount of time.

"What the Hell was that?" He finally registered her words and he just…stood there. Completely frozen in shock at what had occurred that his brain had decided to conveniently shut down as Miranda rambled.

"Um, I should work…or think…I'll, um, talk to you later."

A harsh exhale escaped his mouth as he began to shed his temporary paralysis. His senses began to register the world once more and he immediately shivered as a breeze wafted across his patio. John continued to stare at the spot Miranda had vacated – its warmth dissipating rapidly – and unconsciously licked his tingling lips as his heart picked up from the memory.

Oh, shit.

The rain poured heavily onto the roof, clanking loudly against the shingles and granting John little sleep as he stared at his ceiling. Things were different now. A silent elephant now existed between him and Miranda; the topic that neither of them would discuss no matter how much they both wanted to. He rolled onto his side, shuffling the blankets with him as he tried his best to process their last conversation.

His mind churned and churned over every word and detail that he could…and yet, he couldn't figure it out. What did he do wrong? He had an idea, but Miranda's reaction wasn't one that he had expected. God! He desperately pressed his head against his pillow, trying to force out that generic voice and smile from his mind. She wasn't okay, no matter how much she kept claiming she was fine. Their conversations were forced now; the natural flow cracked by some unexplainable tension.

What was that? What had happened that created such an unscalable wall between them? He slammed his eyes shut. And the worst part was that he kept feeling that it was his fault somehow. He had caused this; this…silent, unexplainable rift that gnawed at every bit of him. He hated it. He missed his best friend.

"The Navy, John? Have you gone mental?"

"It's what I know, Miranda. I got nothing going here for me."

"You…how…ugh! You Bastard!"

The conversation shouted in his brain as it replayed over and over. The frustrated teenager slammed his head further into his pillow, hoping to block out their last conversation out.

"I don't know why you're freaking out about this. You're going for your Masters; you got something to do. I need to do this Miranda. I need to do something important. Be something important."

"And you think the Navy is going to do that for you? You don't think you're important here?"

"Don't do that. Don't twist my words, Miri."

"It's what I'm hearing."

"I'm eighteen. Mum is moving back to Virginia. You're going to study abroad. And what do I have? I need to make something of myself. I got nothing here."

"You really think you have nothing here?"

John wanted to yell into his pillow! That indescribable expression had flitted across her features just seconds after she had spoken those final words. What did it mean?! And why did his heart feel like he had made a mistake by joining the Navy?

"Shepard, there you are! Thank God! You're late! Randa is going ballistic on everything." John shuffled through the hotel, feeling more anxious than he cared to admit. It had been nearly eight hours since Miranda had fled his house; eight hours since that whole thing occurred. He barely slept last night after he realized what had happened, and nearly was late for the wedding rehearsal from his late night overthinking.

"Overslept." John graveled out an explanation as he staggered after a worried Oriana.

"Well, wake up. She's demanding to redesign all the arrangements and the reception menu! It's not even eight am and she's already made the sous chef and the wedding planner cry!" Oriana's eyes were wide with worry as she led them toward the courtyard of the hotel. "My God and I thought dress shopping was as bridezilla she was going to get…" Oriana trailed off. John's fogged up brain finally registered the paleness in her complexion.

"Ori?" John questioned before he heard Miranda's shouts.

"No! It's all wrong! Take it back and get it right! How can you be this incompetent?" A loud crash of dishes resounded with Miranda's exasperated curses following suite.

"She's swearing, Shepard." Oriana stopped near the reception hall. "She rarely swears unless she's extremely upset." The young Lawson turned to face him fully; her worry apparent. "She was fine yesterday…but…"

John clenched his jaw, having a good idea what had upset Miranda. He did his best not to allow the irritation, frustration, confusion, and concern to etch itself onto his features. "But what?" He took the cautious approach, uncertain of which persona he should don for this conversation: the John-Miranda's-Best-Friend or John-The-Doomed-Piner-of-Miranda-Lawson. God, that last one sounded way too self-deprecating for his taste.

"She was really upset last night. She stayed the night at my place and practically ignored her phone when Jacob called." Oriana's voice was soft with worry and unease.

A heavy unbidden sigh escaped John's mouth. After knowing Miranda so long, he knew only a few occasions where she had resorted to this state. She was utterly confused and frustrated. He knew that. It was the perk and curse of knowing her so well. The only question now, was which part of her was confused and frustrated? The part that loved Jacob Taylor or the part that loved John Shepard?

His mind reflected back on the kiss he had shared with Miranda. It was one that was filled with desperation, longing, and extreme passion – and those were just the few emotions he registered from Miranda when she had leaned in. Oh yes, she leaned in. Not John. But that didn't mean he was a silent spectator either. Nor did it help his own confusion and frustration. She had kissed him. What did that mean? He was uncertain if he should feel hurt or elated, since he had no idea why she had kissed him.

Another heavy crash of dishes sounded from the hotel kitchen, jarring John from his inner thoughts. He might not know which part of her was confused or frustrated, but John now knew that it was time to stop running from his feelings. And it was time that both of them were truthful to one another.

"I'll speak to her, Ori." He assured her with a small smile before taking a mental breath and heading over to the kitchen.

"Captain Shepard." John's lips twitched in poorly contained amusement as he saluted his mother.

"Stop that, Lieutenant." Captain Hannah Shepard growled out as she swatted her son across the head. John chuckled easily before giving his mother a much needed hug.

"It's good to see you, Mum." He whispered above her head. "Thanks for picking me up." He pulled back before grabbing his Navy knapsack from where he had initially dropped it. "Congratulations on your promotion." He smirked, earning another whack at the back of his head. He had known that she had wished to retire, but another plea from Admiral Hackett and Captain Anderson had whittled her down to staying on a few more years, much to his mother's chagrin and his own entertainment; she was such a sucker for two friends and John loved to constantly remind her of it. "Ow. I hope you don't abuse your officers like this."

"Just the annoying bratty ones." Hannah replied with ease as she took a good look at her grinning son.

"Oh, and what am I then?" John feigned a pout.

"I would think it would allot you the title of THE Annoying Bratty One." John snapped his head to the figure approaching behind his mother. He could feel it then. The emotions that he had locked away and submerged deep into the far recesses of his heart. They were banging and clawing their way out, intending to sail headfirst into the siren that had easily serenaded them out.

"Miri." He breathily replied. Although he had not physically seen his mother in over a year, due to his deployment, John had not seen Miranda since their argument 4 years ago. At least, not in the flesh. They had spoken about 6 months ago on Skype during one of his monthly check-ins with his mother; she had conveniently been visiting his mother after some medical conference that was taking place in the area when he rang in. Oh yes, Miranda Lawson had become a hot-shot doctor. And by all that was holy, John did his best to eradicate all the images that ran rampant at the thought of Miranda in her doctor's coat…

"John." Her mouth quirked in amusement and he couldn't help the goofy one that appeared on his face. He was glad they had sorted out their argument. She wasn't happy that he was in the Navy – for some evasive reason that she still vaguely referred to – but at least she was trying to be supportive. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He really needed to stop that silly grin now. He could feel his mother's beaming smile burn the side of his head. "I didn't know you were going to be here." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head before widening his eyes at the implications of his words. "Not, not that I'm not happy to see you!" He stammered out, seemingly losing all his coherency in the process.

"I thought it would be a lovely surprise." Hannah shot John a mischievous glance before turning to Miranda. "Besides, Miranda was in town for another conference."

"Not that I wouldn't have come regardless, Hannah." Miranda side-eyed John, causing him to shuffle his knapsack awkwardly; he felt he was being scrutinized by the two women, which usually meant they were up to something. "If only to make sure that this one," she jabbed John's chest, causing him to let loose a reflexive "ow" from his throat, "came back in one piece."

"You make it sound like I purposely injure myself." John guffawed.

"If your youthful hero-complex is still as intact as ever, I have no doubt that you would enjoy getting into trouble whilst saving any damsel that batted her eyes at you." Miranda deadpanned.

"Now, now, Miri. We both know that you are anything but a damsel." John threw in a cheeky reply with an equally cheeky smirk. He could still remember that day when he punched one of Miranda's former boyfriends in the face, not that Miranda wasn't capable of doing it herself – John couldn't help it; the guy was a jerk to her that night. He mentally shook his head, surfacing from memories and Miranda's fond smile, at the sound of his mother's voice.

"My god, are you two going to be like this the whole week? If so, I demand –" Hannah's words were cut off when a uniformed officer barreled into John's side, casually swinging her arm around John's shoulder.

"Hey LT! Garrus and I want to know if you're still up for drinks tonight?" The brunette asked before noticing John's mother and Miranda. "Oh. I'm sorry! I didn't realize…" John nearly laughed at Ashley's embarrassment. "I'm sorry for barging in." She apologized to the two women.

"Ash. Meet my mother, Ca – (John!) Hannah Shepard, and my best friend Miranda Lawson." John winked at his mother playfully for his quick correction before turning to look at Ashley, slightly peeved that she still had her arm around his shoulder; she was getting touchy feely a lot lately, which made him wonder if she hadn't already started her shore leave with some whiskey. "Mom. Miranda. Meet Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. We worked on a few missions together." He explained to his family.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am and Miss Lawson." Ashley finally removed herself from John and motioned to give both women a cordial handshake. "I'm sorry for interrupting your reunion." John noted Ash's pause when she shook his mother's hand. It seems she realized who she was. "Ma'am! Captain Shepard! I…" The marine quickly removed her hand as she went into the customary salute.

"At ease, Gunnery Chief." John curiously tilted his head at his mother's tone. She had a smile on, but her voice hinted tension. He glanced at Miranda to see if she noticed his mother's shift, but was surprised to see Miranda held a guarded, if a bit, calculative expression. What was going on with those two?

"Yes, of course. Apologies again, ma'am. I, um," Ashley turned to John, "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Maybe later in the week, Ash. I want to spend some time with my mother and Miranda tonight." He politely declined, feeling the nervous anxiety rolling from Ashley in waves, and granting her some pity.

"Right. Of course. Sounds good! Call me, Shepard!" She practically ran off after bidding everyone a goodbye.

"Well, that was interesting." Hannah pointedly raised an eyebrow at John. He blinked, unsure how to read that look. He didn't have time to contemplate it more when Miranda spoke.

"Indeed." Miranda agreed, a curious contemplated expression ghosting her features. "Another damsel, I'm assuming?"

Miranda's tone burned his gut unpleasantly. John wasn't sure what she was insinuating, but felt embarrassed all the same. "What?" He squeaked out.

"Shall we get going, Hannah?" Miranda turned to address the elder Shepard, her voice flat and neutral, giving John whiplash from the rapid change of emotions. "I'm sure that John would miss our lunch reservations if we keep idling here."

"Of course. He tends to be neglectful of what he needs."

John stared as he watched the two most important women in his life share some secret expression before nodding at John to follow. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Wait, what?" He called after them, easily sensing some hidden shot at his expense. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I swear, John, sometimes you're as dense as your father…" Hannah mumbled into his ear.

Seriously. What was going on with them?

The kitchen was in a horrendous mess. Shattered plates and food were scattered across the floor while the kitchen staff scurried to clean it up in order to avoid the wrath of the fuming raven head in the middle of the room. She was in the middle of harshly explaining to the chef about some exotic sushi dish that apparently came out wrong, when John decided it was enough trauma to inflict on the innocent kitchen-folk.

"Miranda." John carefully touched her elbow, effectively pulling her attention away from an exasperated chef. He felt her whole body tense at his touch and did his best to swallow down the guilt of making her uncomfortable. "Do you have a moment to talk?" He placed on his commanding tone, one that brokered no other answer except one of acceptance.

Miranda seemed to register the tone immediately and John could instantly see the rebellion in her eyes. "Not now, Jo –"

"Please." John softly added, realizing that it wasn't a good idea to go into this much needed conversation with a hothead.

Miranda's features visibly deflated, as if she had been harboring so much air within her lungs and was finally able to release it. "I suppose we should talk."

Author's Note: I know...I'm a punk for leaving it here...but it had to be done! I've already mused out the next chapter, I just have to write it down and hope that the characters play nice with me, so I'm not sure what the timeline will be when I get it out, but I will do my best to not make you guys wait as long as you have for this chapter. On a side note, some have wondered about Let's Elope from the last chapter...it may or may not allude to things...I can't say much on the matter without spoiling things, but fun fact: Let's Elope is a real horse that won the Melbourne Cup in 1991. Yay for tidbits! - Phantom