Joker scowled when he heard the clicking of heels on the deck behind him. The only person who wore heels on the Normandy who'd come up to bother him was Miranda, and he didn't want to deal with her song-and-dance right now. (How many times had he told Shepard he wasn't a people person?)
"Joker?"
Shepard was behind him. Again. So she must have diverted Miranda's attention or something…. He shrugged and obediently swivelled his chair around. "Hey, Commander—um. Wow?"
She stood in front of him, wearing a black dress—was that leather? It was-that fit her like a glove instead of her usual jumpsuit. Her combat boots had been replaced by black high-heeled shoes and she was even wearing jewellery. She was showing off miles of leg and while her muscled shoulders and arms looked a little odd, it seemed to fit somehow.
"Joker." She snapped her fingers at him, looking at him with exasperated affection. "Eyes. Up here."
"Jeez, Shepard, that's just not fair. You can't walk up here looking like that and expect me to pay attention. What's with that get-up, anyway? You always seemed to me like a combat-boots-and-assault-rifles-as-an-accessory sorta lady."
She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath of air, annoyed. "Kasumi."
"So it's all her fault, huh?"
"Had to go to this thing with her and they wouldn't have let me in if I was wearing combat boots. I thought I'd check in, but maybe I should've gone and changed first." Shepard fidgeted and shifted her weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.
Damn it. See what you've done, Jeff? "Nah, it's fine." He shrugged, trying to be indifferent. "Just, uh, I'd change if you're headed down to engineering. Don't wanna give Donnelly a heart attack, seeing you dressed like that." Like you damn near gave me one.
"Gabby would kill me," Shepard acknowledged. "Yeah. I just want these damned shoes off my feet."
"Good plan. I thought you were Miranda coming up to bug me. And, uh, Shepard? Not that you'll ever wear it again, 'cause I know you, but you look great."
She smiled, wryly. "Nah, Joker. I'm all muscle. A dress like this, it just doesn't suit me. I appreciate the sentiment, though."
Then she was gone, her strange heels clicking away, and he shook his head. Shepard. In a leather dress. "Should've had a camera," he muttered. "The 'net would've loved that."
"Mr. Moreau, there is a high statistical probability of Commander Shepard discovering such footage and-"
"—and spacing me because of it. I know. I was kidding." He glowered at the meddling AI and thumbed the mute control, returning to the flight controls and the vid he had open. Back to work.