AN: This was…part of my second chapter but realized it was a big thought and not very original and more suited to a oneshot. I swear, I know for a fact I've read a medbay cake story somewhere and so I apologize about having another one and if this is plagiarize-y? Then I don't know. Ahah. I couldn't find it, but I probably wasn't trying hard enough. 8'D
Takes place sometime during ME2 and will tie into my larger multi-chapter Shoker fic.
Also if this has unsightly typos I did re-read it three times though I've bound to miss one or two.
I own nothing, this is a fanpiece.
Shepard was good with her hands, she wasn't particularly brilliant but she enjoyed building things and the creative process. As a kid those things had generally been small toys created from bits of tech lying around her parent's ships. Small guns created out of springs, tubing and rubber bands, helicopters made out of plastic sheeting and pens. As she grew older she put her curiosity and skills to good use by picking up extra classes over the extranet, spending all her time watching vids on programming, and her summers at an alliance Tech camp on Arcturus. It was a no brainer by the time she enlisted that she would come to find work in the engineering field. Machines were her passion, but while it was ingenious it wasn't beautiful.
Ships were beautiful, but she couldn't fly a ship.
Cue her first trip to the newly reconstructed Citadel. She'd encouraged her ground team to take a look around, and while their backs were turned she'd examined the fine displays of the to-scale replicas of all major ships known to sentient life. The first ship she'd spotted was an exact replica of the Normandy SR-1. Shepard had been intrigued. When she had learned that most customers were put off by the fact it needed to be assembled by hand Shepard took that challenge.
Anything to regain a bit of her old life; of her old ship.
At the time she thought it would bring her some closure or happiness having something so familiar close again.
Putting it together had been one of her most demanding experiments, she knew next to nothing about ship building, even with the booklet and the extranet she would give up for the night feeling inadequate. All in all it made her feel like a teenager again. It was fun.
From there she picked it up as a hobby, spending her hours between missions and planet scanning and debriefs alone in her loft constructing tiny ships. With practice they came to look…prettier, more ship-like, and she took pride in that. It was therapeutic and took her mind off the endless traveling to and from star systems. Unfortunately the activity itself began to take her away from her crew. Her visits became less and less frequent. Mordin was busy, Garrus was more interested in the newly installed Thannix canon and well…Shepard didn't really connect well with anyone else.
There was always Joker but she felt a little odd interrupting him in the middle of his duties, as well as his other potential…extracurricular activities.
Besides, Shepard knew enough about them to know when something was wrong and that was good enough for her. With no requirements to be social reminding her of her undead status she rested easier, acclimating at her own pace for once. This was selfish thinking of course, and her actions and behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of the crew.
Having given up for the day on sanding down the body of a Quarian ship, Shepard had resorted to another old hobby. Reading.
While it was just as soothing and required less concentration she found herself unable to concentrate period. The tell-tale beep of the intercom broke her train of thought, book falling limply to her face, Joker's voice filling her silent cabin.
"Hey Commander, have you seen Chakwas? Anywhere?"
"What happened?" The woman answered dully.
"Gee thanks for your concern. So I take that as a no." Shepard snorted in response.
"She's taking advantage of our brief shore leave before we leave for the Quarian fleet tomorrow; I think she said she was going to look into restocking our supplies. Why?"
"No reason. Let me know if you see her on one of your oh-so-frequent stops to the land of the living." The man's sarcastic quip ended with a strong final beep before the com line went completely silent. Sitting up slowly she dropped the book onto the floor and sighed. It wasn't like Joker to be so…abrupt with her, or so dissented. Something was up, and whether she felt up to socializing or not she had her job to do.
"EDI, What's going on? Anything I need to be overly concerned about?"
"Unknown. Though knowing Mr. Moreau's refusal to say and his strong words, I'm certain it's in regards to his condition."
"Do you need me to head into the city to fetch Chakwas?"
"Unnecessary. However I am hearing suspicious noises from the medbay, having someone nearby to ensure he doesn'—"
"I'm on it EDI." Shepard stalked quickly out of the room and into the Elevator as fast as her weary body could go. While there had been no accidents aboard the SR-2 yet since her maiden voyage, Shepard knew that they were bound to have at least one minor documentation-worthy incident while their medical officer was unavailable. But Joker was smart, and she never knew him to fracture so much as a finger while on the job. But the crew didn't know him as well as those aboard the old SR-1 did, if something was left lying around, or wiring left unchecked around the restrooms, well that could be problematic.
Wracked with sudden anxiety Shepard wrung her hands, peering around the crew's quarters not sure what she expected to find. First she checked the area outside either bathroom, making sure there was no exposed wires or objects to trip over. Then she slowly made her way to the medbay, stepping cautiously over the threshold to find Joker sitting by himself on one of the examining tables, hands clasped between his knees, heels bouncing merrily off the frame. He looked as though he'd expected to see her, and seeing this herself she wasn't quite sure what to do.
"Problem?" She asked, her deer-in-the-headlights expression catching Joker off guard. Taking the pause to laugh icily at the way she held herself poised to help but not really sure where to start, he clapped his hands together.
"There's my favourite anti-social zombie. It's about time." Joker chirped, leaning back onto his hands. "Do you know what day it is?" He asked, sounding incredulous.
Shepard shifted awkwardly, scratching at the back of her neck.
"No….We're in space, there is no date."
The young man grinned and adjusted the bill of his cap, his brow rising, tone still severe.
"Don't be obtuse, Commander. Believe it or not time moves forward out here just the same as everywhere else."
He raised his bottom and scooted some feet over to reveal a container seated behind him.
"And you got the same lecture and freshman packet as I did back at base; they use all the same dates and calendars the Alliance does, just composed under a more evil agenda. They even celebrate Christian holidays. Imagine that."
He watched pointedly as Shepard shuffled forward awkwardly, the look on her face suggesting she was still trying to remember the date. He had to admit they'd been running her ragged, but Shepard was a professional; she never made it a habit to forget important things, like Christmas, or birthdays. And yet he noticed the way she avoided even small talk these days, sticking to the shadows when her attendance wasn't required. It was unnerving that no one saw fit to do something about it.
"Which by the way, you still owe me a Christmas present."
A light seemed to come on behind her dull eyes as he lifted the lid to reveal a small, inch deep misshapen cake. White frosting revealed several bare spots of off-white, and even one side looked like it'd had a finger raked through it. Shepard smiled softly as Joker shifted that side closer to himself.
"Is it my birthday?" Her head cocked to the side while she leaned up against the table opposite of the pilot.
"Was that a question? No, it's my birthday." He uttered seriously, catching the Commander's eye and smirking. "Of course it's yours. Well, it was. A few weeks ago actually…Or a month, or two."
The pair stared down at its shoddy craftsmanship, bereft of identity yet surprisingly still retaining that quality of a good old fashioned, unwanted birthday cake.
"And who remembered I can't eat chocolate?" Her grin grew wider.
"W-well."
"Lucky guess?"
"Which will be less lucky and less guess-y next time." He cringed passing her a clean metallic utensil from the kitchen, and digging into the dessert with his own.
"That's alright, just means you're privy to why you really get two desserts with your dinners sometimes." She snerked, digging into her own side with gusto.
"You mean it's not a mistake?" Joker muttered thickly through a mouthful of frosting, eliciting a crooked grin from Shepard, shoving a large spoonful of cake into her mouth, wiping at the edges of her lips with her finger.
"No." She spoke just as thickly, sucking the frosting from her fingertips. "Who made this anyway?"
Joker was silent for a moment before hastily gesturing to himself with his fork, "Rupert and I did, and don't look so surprised, Rupert might have done a majority of the work but it was still my idea."
"Alright, no need to sound so defensive. Why'd you have the idea anyway? Why are we in the medbay, is this a theme party?"
Joker balked at 'theme party' and coughed lightly, "You're filled with all sorts of questions today, aren't you?"
"Can't you just answer them?"
"Fine, remember when Kaidan spilled his…whatever, his biotic power juice, behind my chair? That's the last time I let anything consumable near my helm. Also it's the only spot on the ship private enough for a two man…'party.' And second, or third I should say…You spend too much time on your own these days. The cockpit started getting too quiet a long time ago, Commander."
Shepard bit into her fork, silent for a moment to ponder his aggressive stance on her new found desire to be alone. It made everything in front of her that much brighter.
"Alright, alright…And what about this 'next time' business?"
"Ahh you caught that." He sighed, leaning back.
"And now I'm holding you to it." Shepard declared with a slight umph as she hoisted herself to sit astride the table with her legs folded under her. "I think I'd like to see the process myself."
"Hey I unintentionally promised you another cake, never said anything about a show." Joker frowned, pulling the platter closer to himself, adjusting his body to face her more. Shepard was toying with the edge of her side scraping bits of crumbs into a pile, chin in her hand as she stared awkwardly off to the side. "Hello? Normandy to Shepard."
"Sorry I was just… imagining you being all…domestic."
"Eugh, as tickled as I am to be featuring in your fantasy, I'm not sure how I feel about it involving aprons and baking." Shepard's eyes became slightly unfocused, a far off look blossoming in her eyes. "Shepard I'm right here."
"Sorry, s'just really cute is all…" She sat up straighter, clearing her throat.
The pair of them chipped away at the cake in a silence punctuated with spoons tapping against plastic, each shoving the remains of the cake closer to the other until steel met steel. Joker was the first to speak.
"This was…fun." He dropped his fork onto the empty dish, rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand watching as Shepard did the same. Her cheeks were still a bit red and he imagined his were as well.
"Yeah, thanks Joker. For setting this up…It's been a while." She ignored his grunt of affirmation and pushed on, "Though you could have just told me to come down, instead of using EDI to trick me down here."
"I couldn't trust you'd come, Commander, no offense. Not with how you've been living like a monk between missions. Was starting to miss you during meals, after all." He leaned to the side to try to capture the woman's downcast eyes, instead catching a wry smile.
"So you knew they weren't a mistake."
"They don't hire 'em that stupid, Shepard." Joker grinned, sitting up. "And the crew was starting to talk, stuck my neck out to take them down a few notches."
"My hero." She grinned lazily, dropping her fork alongside his with a clank.
"Besides, can't let you waste away up there like that, you'll end up ripping the misanthropic banner right out from under my ass."
Shepard groaned and slid from the table, setting the cover over the empty dish and tucking it under her arm, and reaching up to grab a handful of Joker's uniform. She dragged him none too gently her off the table to stand beside her before wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Walking towards the door in a sleepy haze she sighed.
"It's my birthday, don't you have anything nicer to say to me? Or do I have to order you to sing?"
"Well how about dashing all my previous misconceptions of you being a dainty eater-ow! Or your views against corporal punishment?" He made a noise of protest through his teeth, pressing his hand along the elevator controls, sending the lift to meet them. Shepard maneuvered in after him, arm still latched around his neck but fingers thankfully no longer tugging at the hairs along the base of his neck. He was quiet for a moment, relaxing his tensed shoulders beneath her warm arm. All this time spent quietly eating, quietly in one another's quiet presence, it was…peaceful. And not at all awkward. Even with bits of her pressed up against him that he'd never felt outside of a hardsuit.
"You're heavier than I imagined…"
"Joker."
"And you're easier to talk to. You used to hide like this back on the old Normandy, remember? Anderson even said you weren't much of a chatter-box, took months just to realize you were just…shy." He snorted.
"How is any better than calling me heavy?" Shepard's deadpan tone dipping into exasperation.
"Think of it as my round-about way of saying you're pleasant to be around, which coming from me…"
"Uh-huh." Shepard grinned as the elevator doors entered to reveal the CIC. Too soon Joker was shrugging himself out from under her weight and walking slowly onto the deck.
"And I'm glad you're alive."
"Getting better. And?" She grinned, pressing the button that would send her back up to her loft. Joker tossed his hands up into the air with a defeated laugh.
"And what? What do you want m-? Stop holing yourself up there being an enigmatic, and maybe there'll be something more to say."
Shepard folded her arms, a warm glow spreading across her features, watching bits of the CIC disappear behind twin veils of silver. "I'll do that then."
"Good." He answered aggressively, eyeing the Commander just as fiercely as she eyed him.
"Great!" She spat, popping her eyes open fully as she leaned into the lift's frame, the doors sealing themselves shut completely leaving him to amble slowly back to his seat at the helm.
"Good." He whispered quietly to himself with a large grin and a laugh.