Crippled

A Mass Effect Fan Fiction Story by Elle Kitty

In honor of Armistice Day, the anniversary of the conclusion of the First Contact War fought between the Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy (sometimes referred to as the "Relay 312 Incident"), we acknowledge the memories of the six hundred and twenty-three human lives lost as well as the turian casualties as a result of the three month long conflict, a reminder of the price humanity pays for its expansion–

Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moraeu really couldn't care less.

Joker pulled off his earpiece and lifted the brim of his hat to scratch his forehead with a decidedly pitiful sigh. Good God, did all the Alliance stations on the Citadel play such pre-recorded self-righteous crap? First the "Profiles in Courage" and now some holier-than-thou spiel about "the price humanity pays"? Was the ambassador funding this?

If you asked Joker (which, coincidentally no one did) the turians jumped the gun. Maybe they'd forgotten what it felt like to be cooped up in their own cluster, knowing that there was some kind of alien life out there and trying desperately to figure things out before everything blew up in their faces. Not that he knew whether or not the turians had ever had a bright and shining moment like that but humanity sure seemed to. Seemed to have had a moment like that, he meant. Humanity didn't really seem to know anything much about the turians when it came right down to it. Or the asari. Or the salarians for that matter. Good God, we're still back in the Stone Age after all. Well, not if you count who's going to stick their ass out the farthest for the Council. Which no one seems to.

"But, hey, humanity's made some great gains," Joker muttered to himself as he thumbed through channels. "We've got colonies –least the ones that Saren hasn't blown yet -, big space ships, big guns, a human Spectre, an obnoxious but very vocal ambassador, great gains all around. But why," his thumb pushed down very angrily on the button on the side of his chair, "can't we have a station that isn't filled to the brim with God-awful propaganda?"

"Oh, lighten up," said a cheerful voice from behind his chair. Joker twisted around to get a glance at the speaker. "Udina's put some hard work into, what was it, 'The image that humanity must present to the intergalactic public'? Does that sound about right?"

A grin spread across the pilot's face. "You're the spitting image of the ambassador, commander."

"'An obnoxious but very vocal ambassador,'" Commander Katherine Shepard confirmed with a wry smile.

His grin fading, Joker said, "You heard that."

"I did. And I promise you that I will keep Saren from blowing up any more of our colonies." Studying the rim of the glass she held, Shepard reconsidered her choice of words. "Not that he blows them up so much as unleashes geth everywhere and slaughters our people. He's not very neat about it either. Doesn't tidy things up. I'm guessing that a nuke would be just too much of a clean sweep for his ego."

"Speaking of clean sweeps," said Joker as he eyed Shepard's glass, "I thought Anderson had rid the Normandy of alcohol. You breaking into the doctor's brandy case, commander?"

"I didn't know she kept one." Careful not to spill her drink, Shepard arranged herself in the copilot's seat. "She cares about you, Joker."

"Are you claiming that the doc's got the hots for a cripple? Because that's just, I don't know, stolen from some soap opera from a century back. They were real into hospital drama."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Okay, no, Joker. God, you always do this. She just worries about you. That's all. She worries about the lieutenant too."

"Gee, commander, way to make me feel not special anymore. While you're at it, why don't you just call over Santa Claus to tell me I'm ugly and have no friends?"

"No, I can call up Chief Williams for that particular service." She took another sip from her glass. "Though I doubt she's in the mood."

"What do you mean by that? She the one smuggling alcohol?" When Shepard didn't answer, Joker's eyebrows shot up his forehead accompanied by a smirk. "No, really?"

In response, she thrust her glass over to him. "What, you want some?"

"You aren't worked up about an, uh, DUI?"

"We're not going anywhere tonight, Joker. I'm happy enough to be out of Artemis Tau."

"Back to civilization, eh commander? By the way, you never did thank me for pulling your asses out of there."

"I let you make bad jokes."

"You do that anyway. Come on, it's Armistice Day. It's the day to remember the… self-sacrificing and courageous deeds of our military compatriots. I think it's high time for a medal."

Shepard choked a little on her drink. "A medal?"

"Yeah, a medal," Joker began to get into it. "Gold medal! Right. With an engraving and… stuff. Maybe a nice ribbon. Or a star. Yeah."

She choked a little again when she saw the wistful look on her pilot's face. "They'd, uh, make you shave, you know."

The look on Joker's face began to fade. "What?"

"Yeah," Shepard nodded sagely. "Just like they made me cut my hair and dye it back for the ceremony after Akuze. They'd make you shave. And then you'd listen to speeches."

"Speeches," he mock-shuddered. "Good God."

"Uh huh," she nodded a little more vigorously. "And I bet Udina would make a particularly long and dry one about the importance of humanity's first Spectre and how her safety relies on her crew, i.e. you. But the speech would mostly be about me."

"That's the ambassador alright: knows how to work all the angles." Joker drummed his fingers against the control pad and then turned to look at Shepard again. "Okay, no medals. Why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

"Oh," she said and he watched as color flooded into her face. "Well…" Shepard placed her glass on the dashboard and drummed her hands against her legs. "I was wondering," she drew the word out, "if you wanted to come to Flux with me."

Joker stared at her for a little while. "You're bored, aren't you?" he finally came to what seemed the only plausible conclusion.

"Well," she flushed, "yes. I am. Very bored, as a matter of fact. And slightly intoxicated, I should think. No worries. Do you want to come with me?"

"Me?" he said slowly. "You want to go out… with me?"

She made a noise of exasperation. "Not like that, Joker. I want to have some fun and everyone else is so… busy. You know, Garrus is still trying to pinpoint Dr. Saleon's last known location, has been ever since I said I'd go after him, and Ash is contacting her sister Lynne. Tali's doing… something, Liara's still a little stressed out about Therum, and I'm not really interested in Wrex's idea of 'fun.' You seem like someone who could have a good time."

"What about… Alenko?" he couldn't resist asking.

Shepard blushed again. "The lieutenant has a megrim," she answered with a sigh. "Look, Joker, it's okay if you don't want to come with me," she smiled and was already getting up to go."

"Wait…" Joker drew out the word as he studied his commanding officer. "You know I can't dance, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "You gave me the whole spiel: 'snapping shinbones, remember?' I'm not asking you to dance, Joker, I'm asking you to come to Flux with me, drink, watch me lose money, and drink. Well," a note of vulnerability seemed to creep into her voice, "what do you say?"

Joker tipped his head back over the edge of his seat and groaned. "Alright, already! Okay, my leg braces are in the compartment to your right, if you could get them out and… okay."

Shepard had already grabbed them. As he buckled them on, she watched and said, "You haven't really seen the Citadel, Joker, have you?"

He tightened the strap under his left knee. "No, not really." Hoisting himself to his feet, he added, "Don't make me regret this, commander. And I'm doing this under one condition."

Her blue eyes narrowed. "Name it."

"What color was your hair before Akuze?"

Something like surprise filled her face. Shepard indicated a length halfway to her waist. "Violet," she said, watching his face. "Violet and fire engine red and that long. Oh, yes."

Joker limped forward into the decontamination chamber. "What was it like? Cutting it and dying it back?"

Shepard hit the proper buttons on the panel and the door to the docking bay slid open. "It felt good," she said shortly. "After Akuze, it felt good. Like I was cutting away a part of myself that I didn't want anymore."

"Like a tumor?"

"Yeah," she said as the elevator doors slid closed. "Like a tumor," she said as they began to descend.

Joker had knocked back his second shot when Shepard said, "You grew up on Arcturus, right?"

He swallowed, wincing at the taste, and nodded profusely. "Yeah. Guess I can say that's why I joined the Alliance in the end. You keep seeing all those big ships, one way or another you'll end up dreaming of flying them all."

She shook her head in awe. "I couldn't fly one," Shepard admitted. "I never even got a driver's license back on Earth."

"Hold it," said Joker, raising a hand. "You're telling me that the famous Katherine Shepard never drove a civilian vechicle? You trying to pull the wool over my eyes, commander?"

"I never said I didn't drive one," she smirked. "I'm just saying that I never got a license."

He shook his head and put his elbows on the bar and made a noise of disbelief. "You're still trying to pull the wool over on me. Now you're saying that you drove illegally?"

"And underage."

"Did you run in a gang, commander?"

Shepard flinched. Joker laughed and then stopped. "No, wait," he said, revelation on his face. "Seriously?"

In response, she knocked back another shot. Probably her third, Joker reflected. And she looks like she's just getting started. Better keep an eye on that. A little sulkily, Shepard replied, "Are you the only person in the Traverse who hasn't read my file?"

"Hey, think of how shocked I was when I found out you hadn't read mine," he pointed out. "Which was fine by me. But I'm not ashamed of my disease or anything."

Her head snapped up, like he had just issued a challenge. Oh, crap, maybe he had. Waving the bartender over, Shepard replied, "Alright. I'm not ashamed of my past."

"Look, I didn't mean to bring up Akuze–"

"And you didn't." She sighed. "Joker, would you just calm down? I'm not some varren that's about to bite your head off. Give me a few more drinks and even you'll be able to outrun me. Look, I'm just a little touchy about my past but I'm not ashamed of it. God, I had to persuade Finch of it; I might has well persuade you–"

Joker glanced down and noticed that her hand was clenched around her empty shot glass and the knuckles were turning red. Inspired, he reached over and gently pried Shepard's fingers off of the cup. "No," he said quietly. "You don't have to persuade me."

The bartender had shown up at this point with a fourth shot and Shepard downed it. Joker watched this with some degree of amusement. "I want to tell you," she said suddenly, leaning forward towards him and grinning impishly. "I want to tell you and I want you to call me Kate."

"Kate," he repeated a little dumbly.

"Kate," she said with a slight giggle, tossing her red hair back. "And I'll call you…" she put her index finger on her lips studying his face.

"Joker," he said with something more than just helpfulness.

"Jeff," she said decidedly. She snatched her fifth shot from the bar counter. "'Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau.'"

"Just 'Joker' is fine," he said, still watching her. He wasn't sure he wanted the two of them associated with the Alliance at this point.

"You don't smile enough to be called 'Joker,'" she decided suddenly and then yanked off his hat. "Why don't you smile?"

"Because the world isn't going to give you anything if you –hey, give me my hat back!"

Shepard examined her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. "I think it looks better on me."

He looked at her, really looked at her, and found that there was something appealing to him about the way his hat framed her face, the way her coppery red hair curled around her temples and chin, the blue of his hat bringing out the blue of her eyes. She caught him staring, struck a ridiculous pose, and said, "What, like something you see?"

Squeezing his eyes shut and then forcing them open, he said very deliberately, "No," and she laughed at him and sat back down beside him. When he didn't immediately remove the cap, she watched him with her lips partially open in a smile and said, "You like me wearing your hat."

"I do not. You've made me very angry."

"Have I?" she said, settling back into her seat and taking another shot.

"Yes. Very angry," Joker said and knocked back a shot of his own. Closing his eyes, he scratched his chin and said, "Maybe I do want to hear about this past of yours, commander."

"Kate."

"Okay, fine. Kate."

"I like the way you say 'Kate,'" she said a little wonderingly and leaned a little closer to him. "And now you want to hear about my past. Alright, Joker. I ran with a gang!" she announced. "They were called the Tenth Street Reds and I ran with them."

"Shh, Kate," said Joker, glancing around. "Okay, I get it. No need to, uh, hold a press conference for humanity's first Spectre."

"Well, gee, Joker, you're right," Shepard said bitterly as she took another shot. "Let's not mess up Udina's master plan here." She glanced over her shoulder towards the dance floor and turned back to Joker with a mischievous look. "Do you want to dance?"

"Uh, commander, we've been through this twice now and you promised you wouldn't-"

"Who says?" she replied with what Joker hoped was mock-outrage. "Come on, Joker; let's dance."

"I told you I don't dance, commander. Geez, I never figured you to be one to enjoy the sound of-"

"'-Snapping shinbones.' Yeah, yeah, look, Joker: this isn't dancing. It's swaying. Look," she nodded toward the dance floor, "can't you tell? It's a slow song."

"'Swaying?' Really, commander, the excuses you come up with-"

"Kate, not 'commander.' And really Joker, the excuses that you come up with…" Shepard took a deep breath. "Look, it's easy. You stand there and sway. Finch and I used to do it all the time. Come on."

She'd taken his hand and positively dragged him across the room when he finally got his hat back. Placing it securely onto his head, Joker tried to balance on his braces and still get his arms around Kate's –that's what he was beginning to think of her as –waist.

"See?" she said, balancing her chin on his shoulder. "This is… nice." Joker was forced to admit it was. The music was… soothing, the lights had toned down, and the club had calmed and relatively emptied. He wondered idly how late it was and found himself running a hand through her hair.

They swayed in silence for a few moments after that, just listening to the music. She lifted her face towards his. "You asked me what it was like to cut my hair," she said. "It was like cutting away that part of me. More even, since it was right after Akuze."

"You don't have to talk about Akuze," he told her gently.

"I dream about Akuze," she said abruptly. "I dream that I'm running. I was running back there, that's what I did, I ran. I ran and I kept running until I couldn't see anymore and, in my dreams, I'm still running, only on Akuze, I knew what I was running from." She laughed softly. "Now I'm running and saying my Ave Marias and running some more and I have no idea what the hell I'm running from but I run some more just so I don't have to find out." She laughed again and nestled her head under his chin. "All that running. I feel so crippled."

"I've never told anyone that. I must be drunk."

"Yeah," said Joker, "you're drunk."

She grinned. "Soon I'll be throwing up my guts."

"Yeah," said Joker, "soon."

"And what do you think about me?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. "What do you think of me, Joker?"

He studied her face. "You're not crippled, Katie," he said very gently. "You're the strongest person I've ever met and I… really, really, really, really like you." Instantly he looked away, to the ceiling, and snorted. "Listen to me, I sound like some god-awful, tongue-tied teenager."

And then he looked down again and then her lips were on his.

When she finally pulled away, she gently bumped noses with him and said, "No, you're very, very, very, very sweet. And you're not crippled either."

"And now you sound like some god-awful, tongue-tied teenager," Joker replied with some satisfaction.

"I don't care," she murmured and kissed him again.

Joker closed his eyes again as her mouth left his. "I think I could love you, Kate," he found himself saying and gently let go of her, paralyzed by his own words.

Unfortunately, when he let go of her upper arms, Katherine Shepard fell to the dance floor, dead drunk.