Work Text:
ƸӜƷ
"Joker," Shepard called over the comm.
"Commander," he replied. "Four hours till Eden Prime."
Jane sighed. She considered playing her call off, avoiding her real reasons for calling her pilot. He gave her an out, announcing their destination time.
Chicken shit.
No, that wasn't going to cut it. She needed to confess her underhanded deed. Joker was likely going to be pissed, but maybe…if he listened to—no, she had to face facts. There was no good reason for what she'd done other than her own selfish desires.
Before she could back out, she blurted. "Come to my loft please. We need to talk."
"Your—loft?" he asked with confusion in his voice. "Just uh, give me a few, okay?"
"No problem. See you when you get here."
She cut off the comm feed and walked into her bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face hadn't helped, nor did making disgusted faces at herself in the mirror. "What have you done?" she asked the image in the mirror, not honestly expecting an epiphany to come of it.
It had taken Jeff several minutes to arrive at the loft. When her door pinged, she felt a sense of stage fright, forcing her feet to move out into her office area. The door swooshed open and her unsuspecting pilot entered slowly and stood awkwardly near the fish tank.
Pointing to the empty tank of water behind him, he chuckled. "You should put something in there—like, fish maybe?"
"They die," she said flatly.
She watched as he rubbed a hand over his beard. "Lack of food 'll do that," he teased. "Maybe plants, sea plants. You couldn't possibly kill those," he shrugged. "Or maybe you could."
He was nervous, which only fed into her own apprehension. She'd never invited him into her personal space. It seemed everyone else was fine with having private talks with her up here, but Joker would never let himself appear needy. Between his pride, and necessity to be self-sufficient due to his disease made him stubborn like that.
In all the years she commanded both the SR-1 and SR-2, she chose to keep things professional between her and the crew. There had been minor flirtation from time to time, but she had always kept it at arm's length.
Her pilot, however, was her enigma. She'd attempt to flirt with him, and his snarky comments in return were ego busting at best.
Joker was a paradox wrapped up into a conundrum. She'd catch him out from the corner of her peripheral, checking out her ass as she walked out of the cockpit. He'd slyly look up at her from his seat and glance over her breast before reaching her eyes. …And yet, she couldn't figure out how to draw him out.
Willing her legs to move, she stepped away from her console, and walked past him and down the few steps to her sitting area. "Can we take a seat and talk?"
"Talk?" he asked. "Hey, if this is about letting loose the cannons on that asteroid, it was Garrus' idea! He said he'd take the blame, and call it calibration testing."
She waved her hand dismissively. "It has nothing to do with that, but now that I know about it," she said with a smirk. "I may need to find a way to scare the shit out of Vakarian."
Jeff slowly limped over to the corner couch muttering. "You really didn't know about that?"
"Not until now," she said, not able to hold back a mischievous laugh. "Did you wait till I was asleep to do this testing?"
She was avoiding the real reason for asking him up here. He graciously gave her a topic to latch onto.
"A little drunk, and asleep. You and Wrex tied one on the other night," he reminded her. "How can you drink that swill, commander? Ryncol isn't fit for human consumption."
She cringed. "Ryncol isn't fit for any species," she said with a shrug. "I lost a bet, though, never mind that for now."
"Never mind that!" he said excitedly. "No way. Fess up!"
"Jeff…" she said with a heavy sigh. "As much as I'd like to stay clear of why I actually asked you up here, I think my lost bet with Wrex can wait."
Joker's eyes grew large. Immediately, she knew why. She'd never called him by his given name, not ever. Scrambling to move this along, she added. "You're not going to like what I have to confess."
"Confess…" he enunciated each syllable as if he were unable to process the word. "Maybe I'm not the best person for confessions. I heard the Citadel has a chapel—"
Shepard flopped into a seated position on the couch, propped her elbows on her knees, and pressed her face into her palms.
"No jokes, okay? This is hard enough as it is, and I really need to get this out," her words were muffled but she peeked over to see if what she had said registered.
"All right," he agreed. "Does this call for liquor?"
"Gods, yes," she said, and popped over to her mini-fridge and grabbed a couple beers. "Here," she offered and sat back down.
With a twist, he took a long pull of the cold ale, and sat it down on the table. "Not a hard liquor talk then? That's a relief."
She hadn't considered that. "Hard liquor would be an option, but I need to be lucid when we hit Eden Prime."
"Commander Shepard, a gun, and drunk," he said with a mock shudder. "Extra armor guys! We've got friendly fire!"
"With a smartass pilot in my sights," she deadpanned.
Grabbing his beer off the table, he took a few more swigs, this time keeping it palmed and resting on his leg. "You'd never shoot me. I'm too loveable."
Yeah, you are. And sexy too.
Jane cleared her throat. She needed to get back on track. "You and EDI have become quite the buddies," she casually commented.
"Yeah, EDI's great," he admitted. "And she never needs a nap – always picking up the slack, you know, when the relief pilot needs a nap."
"Uh-huh," she said skeptically. "Don't let her pick up too much of that slack, or you'll lose your edge. You won't be able to brag about being the best pilot in the Alliance."
"Only the best human pilot in the Alliance," he countered. "I can live with that."
Jane took to playing with the label on her beer bottle, tearing it away from the glass.
"Commander," his voice sounded nervous again. "Am I here to shoot the shit, or is there—something else you needed to see me for?"
She swallowed the ball of cotton that formed in her throat.
"You're likely going to be angry, or hurt, possibly both," she admitted, and peeked over to see him staring at her expectantly. Her nerves were making her a live-wire and she took to pacing in front of the couch.
"Not making jokes here, Shepard," he avowed. "Go on."
Stopping her trekking, she faced him. "EDI talked with me while we were at the Citadel."
Gods, this was impossible! She could have lied by omission. EDI would have likely not said a word, maybe. She never knew for sure with the AI.
"Yeah. She thinks you are the best source of information on all things, human."
Does that include how to be a back stabbing liar?
Boldly, Jane decided to take up a seat closer to him. "Look, Joker. She asked me for advice. Things you two could do together, romantic queries, and the like."
"Awkward," he murmured. "You're the commander…that's just weird. Why didn't she just ask me?"
Why indeed.
Taking in a deep breath, she steeled herself for the backfire that was surely going to happen with her next words.
"Because I told her to be your friend."
She looked back into his cool green eyes. "Only a friend," she clarified.
He broke their gaze, looked over at the mini-fridge, and pointed. "Can I get another beer, or five," he asked, his tone unreadable.
Jane jumped up and grabbed another beer and sat it on the desk across from her bed. She reached up under the unit and grabbed a hidden bottle of bourbon and poured a shot, brought both back, and sat them on the table.
"Good call," he said and quickly tossed back the shot without even making a face. Setting the shot glass down, he grabbed the beer and took a swig, chasing the burn of the bourbon down.
"Why?" he asked simply. "What's it to you, and why would you even care?"
Getting harder by the minute. She looked over at the liquor bottle with a yearning. Knowing it wasn't an option, she dropped back onto the couch and lowered her gaze.
"I'm always put into a position, making decisions that aren't always my business to begin with," she said. "It isn't easy, people always coming to me with their problems. I'm not the local clergy, nor a counselor. Whether it holds any personal interest for me or not, I feel like a real shit if I tell someone they need to figure it out on their own."
"Maybe you should deal with feeling like a shit once in a while," he fired back, his tone acerbic.
"I know," was all she could offer.
"Another shot," he nearly demanded. "Ma'am."
She couldn't stop her eye roll. Joker was in defense mode. And damned if he wasn't one of the best when it came to putting up a guard, dealing with anything real. She being his close runner-up.
Although she didn't take to being commanded by her own staff well, she sucked this one up and grabbed the bottle of bourbon, placing it in front of him on the table.
He tossed back two more shots before he spoke again.
"How'd EDI take your advice?" he asked with a sharp edge to his voice.
"Logically."
"Of course she did," he spat. "Seeing me happy a hard thing for you, Shepard? Just because you like being alone…doesn't mean we all have to be miserable."
Tapping onto her omni-tool, she made a private call. "Liara. Delay on the Eden Prime mission. We'll head out at zero six hundred, tomorrow."
"Is everything all right, Shepard?" Liara asked. "You sound…angry, no, perhaps—Do you need to talk? I can have Glyph run these analyses for me, and—"
"I'm fine, Liara," she lied. "Just have some business to clear up before we go planet side."
"Okay," said Liara, sounding like she didn't believe her. "See you in the morning, Shepard. Liara out."
Now that the mission had been delayed, Jane grabbed a glass and tossed back two fingers of bourbon, reveling in the burn that slid down her throat.
"I'm not miserable," she said heatedly.
Joker lit up his omni-tool and sarcastically spoke into it. "Hey, Bullshit, this is Joker. I thought it was about time I give you a call."
If he were doing that to anyone else, she'd probably laugh. This was directed at her, and she was hurt, pissed, and frustrated.
"Has it ever occurred to you, that having a relationship with a god-damn AI is a copout?"
Her words flew out of her mouth and it was too late to take them back. Not that she would, she meant every word.
"A copout—A COPOUT!" he yelled. "Permission to speak very freely, ma'am!"
"As if you ever needed or asked for permission before," she growled. "So, c'mon out with it, Moreau. Make me a believer, that this isn't you filling in the holes of your own loneliness. EDI is a safe wager, isn't she?"
Jeff downed the rest of his beer and poured another shot, downing that too. He stood after, staggering a bit. "You. Have. No. Idea—"
"What?" she interrupted. "No idea that you hide behind your disability, use it as an excuse to deflect and never get close to anyone?"
The look on his face was mixed with fury and disbelief. But she was on a roll, and her momentum was only at the starting gate.
"Why is that, Jeff? Why, after all this time, do you finally show interest with someone that doesn't even have real emotions?"
He fired back, the inferno threatening to engulf her.
"You ask me why. You of all people? For years, I've watched Alenko, Liara, and even the assassin nearly beg for you to notice them. What's stopping you, huh? What is your excuse?"
He was right. Her words used against her, and it was all true.
"No witty answer, no deep insight, why it's okay for you to be the exception?" he asked in a rage. "What the hell is stopping you?"
"You," she whispered.
Silence ensued. Neither moved from their posturing position. Minutes passed by, and it was Joker who'd finally broke the tense reticence.
Methodically, he picked up all the empty beer bottles and tossed them into the receptacle, and hit the button, sending them to the compactor. After, he picked up both liquor glasses and stacked them inside one another. "I'll take these down to the mess."
"Joker…" she called to him as he was about to leave.
Keeping his back turned away from her, and facing the exit, his words were soft, and it barely sounded like him. "You can't do this. All this time, and now—now is when you pick to be jealous and confess things I can't even process."
And he left without giving her a chance to speak. The door swooshed closed, leaving her standing there, slightly drunk, and filled with every emotion she fought so hard and for so many years to avoid.
ƸӜƷ
The following morning, Shepard geared up and went out of her way to avoid Joker. Beyond protocol, neither said a word to one another.
EDI had taken it upon herself to make up for Joker's lack of interaction while the team was planet side.
Liara and Kaidan kept asking if there was something wrong, and did she want to talk about it. After snapping at the both of them, they ceased all communication with her, unless it was regarding the task at hand.
In the end, and none the worse for wear, they launched the shuttle, and headed for the Normandy with a new passenger. As if Jane needed any more angry glares, the fifty thousand year old Prothian was the icing on the cake. He had four eyes to effectively glare at her.
After dealing with Javik's new accommodations and all of Liara's excited questions, Jane snuck back up to her cabin. When she entered, she wasn't alone.
Joker was sitting at her terminal playing skyllian five against the computer.
"Do your after mission thing," he told her without looking up. "Shower, ugly pajama pants and tank top no one ever sees you in, and a cold beer."
She stood there stone still, when she didn't reply, he added. "We'll talk afterwards."
Not wanting to ruin whatever unseen forces prompted him to come see her, willing to talk, she went on with her usual routine. The shower, which was her first line of relaxation after a battle, hadn't made a dent in her tension.
She pondered the ugly pajama pants and wondered how the hell he knew about them. She shrugged and put them on, along with her sort of white tank top, once white years ago, and walked to her mini fridge for a beer.
Looking over, she realized Joker didn't have one, so she grabbed a second beer and walked over to the coffee table and sat both bottles down.
She waited. She wasn't going to sit until he decided to make his way over to join her. Her insides were coiled tightly, wondering if this was a good thing, or was he going to yell at her some more.
Her terminal bleeped off, and she watched as he slowly stood from her desk chair, slightly limping his way down the stairs.
"Hi," he greeted when he got to the couch. "Can we sit?"
She nodded, unable to find her voice, and took a seat opposite of where he sat so that they could face each other comfortably.
"One of those mine?" he asked, pointing to the second bottle."
Again, she only nodded.
He leaned over and grabbed the beer, and settled back into his seat. Taking a few swigs, he kept hold of the bottle and rested it beside him.
"Did Prothy cut out your tongue?" he teased nervously.
She shook her head, and realized she was being ridiculous. "No, just wondering why you were in my cabin, alone."
"Do you want me to leave?" he cautiously asked.
"No!" she nearly shouted. Talking in a calming breath, she added. "What do we have to talk about—after last night, I mean."
"We're both officers, right?" he asked.
"Yes," she agreed, not sure where he was going with this.
"I'm the last person to be accused of protocols and regs, but—"
He paused and looked directly at her. "
"But?" she urged for him to continue.
"Sleeping with the boss—that is huge, even for me."
"I see," she replied. "So, is this a let's be friends and forget all about what happened last night?"
Joker flashed her a sly grin. "We've always been friends, sorta. In a, don't invade my personal bubble way, but I'll check out your ass as you leave my cockpit."
"Ha!" she shouted. "I knew you've been checking out my ass!"
He grinned coquettishly. "Have you seen your ass? Totally ogle worthy."
"I don't get many opportunities to checkout my own ass, but I'll take your word for it."
"Don't just take my word for it," he said with a wink. "Vakarian agrees. Says your ass is superior to most human females he'd ever met."
Her jaw fell loose and she gasped. "Can you give Bullshit a ring? I think he needs called out again."
"That one left a lasting impression, did it?" he asked proudly.
"Yeah, she agreed. "It's gotta be in your top ten snarks list."
He raised his bottle of beer. "Let's make a toast."
"To what?" she asked curiously.
"To breaking the regs, and to two dysfunctional, relationship phobics attempting the impossible."
She held up her bottle and clanked it against his. "Cheers."