Summary: Stealing the Normandy. Chasing Saren to a lost Prothean planet. Stress on the Normandy is at an all time high. Usually when the tension peaks laughing with her friend can soothe her ills. But this visit to the cockpit play out a little differently.
a/n: Thank you to joufancyhuh for sharing yet another wonderful idea with me.
Grand Theft Normandy
-1-
Waiting always racked her nerves. The ache in her neck started as she and the crew stood around while Captain Anderson broke into Udina's office. It lingered even after the Normandy got underway once more. With the ship hurtling through the dark sea of space toward Ilos that tension spread, creeping down her back
"You still sore that they didn't give chase," Shepard asked as she fell into the co-pilot's seat on the bridge.
"Aren't you?" Joker replied. He'd complained for nearly ten minutes about the lack of Alliance or Citadel pursuit. "I thought you were all about the adrenaline rush."
She shook her head, a laugh hovering just under her voice. "Really? I strike you as an adrenaline junkie?"
"Geth on Noveria," he said in an even tone.
"It is not my fault they fit in shipping containers."
"Zombies on Feros."
She glanced his way, narrowing her emerald eyes at him. "I didn't plant that thing."
"Thereum," he said, leaning on the arm of his chair wearing a shit-eating grin.
"If that's the ace you think you have up your sleeve, that's not my fault either."
"Two words, Shepard. Mining. Laser," he said, counting the words on his fingers and waving showing them to her.
"Hey, now." She turned, facing him full on, but remaining in the seat she'd confiscated from some officer who probably took advantage of the quiet trip to Ilos in order to nab a little shut eye before the excitement started. "There weren't a whole lot of options available in that hole."
Joker chuckled. "So, you went for the 'let's cause a seismic event' choice?"
"How was I supposed to know that would happen?"
"I thought you were one of those all-knowing science overlords?" he teased, waving his hands at her.
"Oh, I see. You're still pissed because I deleted your bookmarks."
"That was a step too far, but no," he said with a laugh.
"Well, either way. None of that is my fault, nor does it make me an adrenaline junkie."
His warm laughter curled around her; it was a pleasant sound that had come to relax and comfort her. One thing had been certain in their crazy ride: whenever she couldn't sleep, she could come up here and Joker would leave her in stitches, get her grinning, and make her forget about all the weight that kept dropping onto her shoulders.
Her fingers swiped over the display on the console near her. It closed almost instantaneously. She tossed the pilot a glare.
"You remember the rules," he chided. "Looking, not touching."
"Still afraid I'll show you up, huh?" It was a toothless taunt. She might be able to fly a shuttle, but with a beast like the Normandy, she'd have no idea where to even start.
Joker's belly laugh bellowed around them. "You might have quick hands, but mine are better."
"Maybe. But I've got some moves of my own."
"Did you forget I've seen you dance?"
"Hey!" she gasped, staring at him incredulously. "I'll have you know that given the right music I could rock your world."
"Prove it," he challenged.
She should have known better. Should have let the bait lie. But she and Joker had figured out early on that they were both button mashers—they knew how to find that soft spot and tweak it until the other replied. It usually resulted in the free trade of some priceless pranks and dares.
This became one of those moments as her fingers tapped at the device on her wrist, her omni-tool sheathing her forearm as she navigated to her personal files.
Joker seemed to predict her plan and closed the cockpit doors, so her antics wouldn't disturb the entire bridge. A moment later, his domain pulsed with the thick chords of electric guitars.
He gave an appreciative nod, in time with the rhythm of the song.
"This is real music."
"Not a fan of Flux's DJ then?" he asked, blinking up at her once she stood.
"Ugh. No," she said, her hips shifting in time with the music.
-2-
A ballerina she was not, Joker surmised, but Shepard managed to keep mostly on beat with the pulsing bass line and drums beneath the riffing electric guitar that even had his toes tapping inside his boot. His eyes remained on her as the beat pulsed through her; though the rhythm mostly centered in the shift of her hips and shoulders. Shepard still didn't know what to do with her arms and feet though. Muttering along with the lyrics, she seemed to get more into the song. She added a bob of her head; Joker remained her rapt, if amused audience of one.
The twirl surprised him, even more so, when she stumbled toward him. This is going to hurt. The thought flashed through his head before anything else; it always was the first thing to fly through his mind when he tripped on a stair or stumbled in the dark. His body tensed, even though he knew that might just make the injury worse, then Joker reached out toward her.
"Shit," she muttered as she caught herself.
He stared up at her as she hovered mere inches above him. She should be in his lap right now; and he should be howling in pain.
"Guess you really do have moves," he relented.
With one hand on the arm of his chair and the other death gripping the back, she had managed to catch herself. And there she remained, her gaze studying his face and coming to meet his eyes finally as if checking for any traces of pain. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Sorry," she said, her breath tickling against his skin.
"No harm, no foul," he told her, the hand that had gone out to help steady her rested on her knee, flexing for a moment.
"Guess, maybe, I'm not really much of a dancer."
"But you do have quick hands."
"Told you," she said with a smile that lit her eyes.
"Mine are still better though."
Her low laughter echoed in his ears. "Yeah?"
It might have been his overactive imagination, or maybe he really did feel her lips brush against his. But he didn't let the thought come to fruition before his grip on her leg tightened and he stretched up to seal their lips. Shepard didn't pull away or push herself off the chair. He felt muscles quake and shift beneath his hands until the weight of her settled gently in his lap. Her fingers brushed through his beard then down his neck before one arm draped around his neck.
"Is this okay?" she gasped, breaking the kiss.
"You're fine," he said, leaning forward again, chasing her lips until they met his once more.
He lost himself in it. Her hands on his face, her lips on his, and the way her mouth opened after a few flicks of his tongue. He pulled her closer, but the angle left far too much distance to make up for. And he wanted her closer.
Shepard drew away again, and somewhere in Joker's mind, he was sure reason had finally struck. "Can I …?"
The unfinished question ended in another kiss. "Yes," he answered, hoping it was the right response, the one that would keep her there.
A blush painted her freckled cheeks and her hands were on the chair again, the same way they had been when she lost her balance. But she slid her legs off the arm, instead setting her knees on either side of his hips. "Is this okay?"
"More than," he insisted, resting his hands on her thighs. She knelt over him, worried, or at least that was his guess. She wasn't the first to err on the side of too cautious. "Sit back a little," he said between kisses, grabbing her bottom lip between his teeth.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
He pressed his hands up and down the tops of her thighs, as the kissing renewed. His thumbs pressed circles along their own path with the movement of his hands. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him remained prepared for her to put on the brakes. Every time their lips parted, he glanced up at her to search for traces of it. But all he saw in her face were signs of her own lust—pupils blown wide, swollen lips, and a flush that crept down her neck and disappeared beneath a field of Alliance blue. It was a not-so subtle reminder of every reason they shouldn't be tangled up as they were.
Her hands placed a gentle pressure on his shoulders. The kiss broke with a whisper of his name. "Jeff."
The sound of it warped his reason and wrapped itself around his spine. He couldn't remember her every calling him by his given name; no one did-they all called him Joker. The realization left him blinking up at her.
A few deep breaths passed her lips, then her hands rose to her neck, more specifically to the buttons of her uniform.
His mind lurched forward through the possibilities and implications of her actions. His own sense slamming into gear long enough to lean toward her. One hand abandoned its hold on her, flying over the interface of his console. "Authorization."
-3-
"What?" she asked, trying to figure out if he was asking her for consent or something else entirely.
"To lock the bridge," he explained, eyes skimming over the skin she'd managed to expose.
"Oh." Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. He shouldn't have needed to explain that, she thought. "Authorization Alpha-421," she breathed. Giving up on her shirt, she leaned forward again. Her hands cradled his cheeks and tipped his mouth to allow for a deep, plunging kiss.
She hummed contentedly around his tongue when his hands returned, cupping her ass for a moment before making their way back to the tops of her thighs.
"Touch me," she muttered between kisses. A part of her she didn't let loose often wanted to test just how skilled his hands were, and after their teasing earlier, it was at the forefront of her mind. She knew they were wasted in the chaste grip he'd chosen. It wasn't an order, by any stretch of the imagination, but his touch shifted with haste. His eagerness to comply excited her that much more.
He yanked her shirttail loose from her BDU pants, unbuttoning his way up until he threw it open enough to press his palms over her stomach and ribs. She shivered as his hands inched higher; the nails of his thumbs skimming the swell of the cups of her bra. Her body contorted, trying to get her breasts into his hands without having to break their kiss.
The moan that resulted when both his hands covered and squeezed her bosom sent her head spinning. He did it again, his lips pressing to her chin, then creeping down her neck. The prickly tickle of his stubble prepped her skin for the tender caress of every wet kiss. She curled her body around him, a silent plea for the worship to continue. Only when her fingers threaded through his hair did she realize the cap she couldn't remember seeing him without had become a casualty of her own frenzy.
His green eyes flashed up at her when his finger hooked at the edge of her bra. The whiskers on his chin teasing across the sensitive skin near the border of the fabric. He didn't ask, but she still gave him a quick nod. He flashed her a smirk before dipping his head ever so slightly. He lavished her breast with dozens of soft kisses. His pace almost maddening; her nipple had already pulled taut against the fabric before he exposed it to his mouth.
"Fuck," she breathed, hand shooting out against the chair, which she knew she could grip tight with no consequences. Her hips rocked against his, shifting against his half hard cock, as she tried to keep herself from getting too zealous.
With Jeff's attention on her body, she turned her mind to, or attempted to focus on, his. The buttons were easy enough, even when she paused to let herself bask in his machinations.
He pulled her lips back to his, and she pressed her hand over his fly. Shepard smiled against his lips when the low groan echoed into her mouth. He pressed up against her hand, kissing her as his fingers fussed about with her trousers.
It became a race, one he won. He shot her smug smirk as his hand slipped into her panties.
"Damn, you're wet," he said. Well, it was really more of a growl, and Shepard felt like there was more to it than just surprise.
"So? You're hard," she shot back, sealing their lips once more.
Even with his hand fairly well confined in her underwear, he still managed to inch away from her attempts to get a little more than he was ready to give her, their game continuing on.
"Patience," he whispered against her lips before his mouth retreated again, skimming her neck with practiced care. When he reached her collar bones, sharp teeth grazed over their skin.
"Easy for you to say," she suspired. Astride his lap she found herself of two minds. One hand buried in his hair, encouraging his attentions. Meanwhile, she leaned to one side, stretching as her fingers clawed for his waistband. A smirk tilted her grin when a low groan echoed between them.
He was hot in her hand, firm and soft as velvet. The roll of her hips mimicked the way she touched him. Jeff picked up on it fast, matching his own touch to her rhythms.
Shepard found herself at Jeff's mercy, and she couldn't fathom a better spot to be in. He lapped at her nipple, burying a second finger inside her. She retaliated in kind circling the tip of his cock with circled fingers.
"Fuck," he exhaled, his breath cooling her wet skin and raising goosebumps over her skin, exacerbating the electric tingle ebbing over her skin.
She concentrated on the sensation, on the hungry look he gave her between kisses that swallowed moans and grunts.
"I'm going to come," he warned.
Shepard nudged his nose with hers and he tipped his head back. "That's the point."
His free hand shot to the back of her neck, pulling and holding her mouth against his as his hips moved in tandem with every greedy pump of her fist. Moments later, his cock pulsed in her hand, the slick of precum drowned in a gush of sticky warmth as he growled her given name against her lips.
Until that moment, she wasn't even sure he knew it. That thought fell through her mind as the bottom dropped out on her world as well. "Yes, Jeff, please." His forehead against hers, the pressure coiling deep within her burst with a feeling like sparks that sang across her nerves and seemed to take hold of the motion in her hips as she pushed against his fingers with the ebb and flow of a tidal wave of pleasure.
Her breath came in heaves as the world beyond just the two of them circled back into focus. But before it cleared up entirely, she snatched up his lips again and wrapped her mouth around his tongue. He managed to kiss her rank away for a time, the slow shift of his fingers inside her might have helped keep it at bay a little longer. But it couldn't last—not then, not there, not between the commander and her flight lieutenant.
Finally, she pulled away. "I …"
"Don't say it."
The request threw her for a loop. Her brow furrowed as she asked, "Say what?"
"Don't apologize. I'm not sorry."
Shepard sighed. It relieves her anxiety a bit, but not entirely. Despite that, she harbored no regret, except maybe for the fact they were both still far too clothed. "Me either."
"Besides, there's more important things to court martial us for," Joker said with tender and infectious chuckle.
"Yeah, like grand theft Normandy."
"Exactly." His console chirped, and the grin he wore fell in a telling way. He leaned to the side enough to confirm what she was certain he already knew. "We're nearing the Mu Relay. Twenty minutes out."
Shepard glanced down between them. "I guess that means you'll need your hand back."
He huffed a laugh before curling his fingers inside her, once more earning a giggle and a playful wiggle. "Only for a little while."
"Jeff." Her voice started tender, then strangle with a gasp when he traced a circle around her clit.
With a chuckle he leaned to his left; she peeked over the arm of his chair.
"A secret stash?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow at him.
"Like you don't have some kind of engineer's toy box tucked away," he accused. His smile twisted as his voice took on a rapacious tone. "Which I'd love to see some time."
She didn't answer that, nor did she ask why he kept tissues in his. She knew there were plenty of innocent reasons for it, but perched on his lap half-dressed, with his hand in her panties, she could not think of a single one. She took the one he offered and unstickied her hand, as did he.
"Be careful down there," he said. A momentary seriousness entered his tone and his eyes.
"I'm always careful," she argued, countering his countenance with a smug grin.
"Pollinated zombies. Lava—"
She kissed him before he could mention any of her other recent adventures. The clock had always been ticking, but now she knew the time on it. So, with more reluctance than she could have expected, she shifted off his lap and set to righting her uniform while he made quick work of his own. She spotted his hat laying on its own near one of the other chairs and picked it up.
When she offered it to him, Joker took her wrist and pulled her over until she was close enough to kiss. "See you on the other side."
"Looking forward to it," she replied, dipping her head and meeting him halfway for another breath stealing kiss.
When her voice authorized the bridge doors to open, she spared a look over her shoulder at him, trading his wink for one of her own. Then she squared her shoulders and headed to grab her gear with one more looming reason to stop Saren.