A/N: theoretically, this will be a shoker-centric collection of chronological one-shots spanning mid-me1 to me3, with a few au bits towards the end. i've written ahead, so hopefully i can have updates out every week or two.

huge thanks to reagans-ramblings on tumblr for beta reading and basically being the entire reason this fic exists.

"You're wasting your time."

Joker looked up as Kaidan sat beside him, sliding one beer over and keeping the second for himself. He punctuated his statement with a pointed look back towards the dance floor, and Joker followed his gaze to where Ashley and Shepard were still dancing together.

So he'd been staring. It was hard not to.

For one thing, it wasn't everyday the two of them were so completely relaxed, and that alone would've been enough to hold his attention. Ashley moved in perfect rhythm with the music, face flushed and grinning widely — she had a great ass, and she knew it — but Calliope, for all that she was typically the picture of grace, just looked uncomfortable. Joker had to wonder just how many times she'd even been to a big club like Flux; everyone knew the story the Alliance pushed, of the farm-girl-turned-N7 — turned-Spectre; the Alliance would have to update their recruitment ads — but he also knew she'd been off Mindoir for a long time.

"Thanks for letting me know you think I don't have a chance with either of them." Joker rolled his eyes, taking a slow sip of his drink before adding, "Watching people dance is a habit of mine." He still wasn't sure why he'd even let Calliope talk him into joining them in the first place; he agreed that the ground team needed a good night out after the shit they'd seen on Feros, and the Normandy was due for some simple routine maintenance anyway, but there were dozens of better ways to spend his evening — and most required less walking.

"Right, sorry." It was Kaidan's turn to stare, now — not at Ashley and Calliope, but at a man behind them — and it was a moment before he pulled his attention back to Joker. "And I didn't mean… Well, you know how it is."

Joker nodded, eyes once again fixated on the two women; he caught Calliope's gaze and looked away, turning to Kaidan and giving a shrug. "Doesn't matter. I'm not interested."

It was only partly a lie. He was a little bit interested, had been ever since his brief first meeting with Shepard back on Vancouver, the week before Eden Prime. She hadn't even been in uniform then, with her blue jeans and strawberry-blonde curls and that wry little smirk that tended to disappear when she was on duty; but she was his commander, and they both had their duties, and it was ultimately just a passing fancy that was easy enough to quash.

Repeatedly.

It had been one thing to push aside the brief initial attraction. But with every grin, every thumbs-up over the armor cams, every sly comment over the comms meant only for him, Joker found himself silencing that same interest.

And it didn't help that she looked so damn good in uniform.

Kaidan looked ready to comment on Joker's moment of silent introspection, but anything he would've said was interrupted by Calliope collapsing into one of the remaining two chairs at their table, red-faced and breathing heavily. Ashley managed to pull Kaidan from his drink and onto the dance floor, grabbing Garrus from the bar on their way back up. Calliope watched with a wide grin, turning to face Joker as she caught her breath. Her long hair, usually pulled back into a regulation bun, was draped over her shoulder in a loose ponytail and a few wisps were plastered on her sweat covered forehead. "Hi."

"Don't stop on my account." Joker leaned back in his seat and nodded towards the dance floor. "You only looked slightly less awkward out there than Garrus does now."

She glanced back to where the turian was trying to mirror Ashley's movements. "I can't keep up with her."

"Really? Couldn't tell."

"Joker." Calliope's lips pressed into a thin frown, but the spark of excitement didn't leave her eyes and after a moment she slipped back into a grin. "My area of dancing expertise is not-" she waved a hand towards the crowd, "-this. It just… it feels good, you know? To get out and have a drink and just…" She trailed off, ending with a long, contented sigh.

Tucking away the knowledge that Calliope did have an area of dancing expertise, Joker cleared his throat and re-adjusted his hat. "A drink?"

She held up two fingers in response. "They've got this levo equivalent of some quarian drink. Too much peach." Her nose wrinkled just a bit in disgust; when she spoke again, her voice was heavy and thoughtful. "Feros was hell. And Therum wasn't much better. There's no way I'm meeting with the council before getting completely shitfaced."

The disconnect between her words and her tone would've been amusing, if not for her now somber expression. "What, you think it'll be easier when they deny everything you say if you're hungover?"

Calliope's smile slowly returned, and she lightly tapped at one of her temples. "Biotic, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. You don't have to sound so smug about it."

The Rear Admiral called it a routine inspection, but Joker didn't think there was anything "routine" about ambushing the commander at such an early hour.

Joker was already up - at Adams' insistence - and helping out with the pre-flight checks. "You know the Commander will be in a hurry to leave after meeting with the council," he'd pointed out, "and we don't know if the maintenance techs touched something they weren't supposed to." He'd been in the middle of a conversation with Tali when the main airlock had hissed open, and Calliope began showing the rear admiral around the ship.

She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if she expected every comment to be met with an argument, but the senior officer said nothing until they'd come back up from the cargo hold.

Joker turned to watch over his shoulder as the rear admiral surveyed the CIC; Calliope's jaw was set, her grey eyes hard, and he suspected the tour of the Normandy hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped.

"It's a waste of credits," the rear admiral finally declared. "The advantages of the stealth drive aren't nearly enough to cover the cost. And I assure you, command will be hearing about your crew." The last word was a sneer, clearly meant to be insulting, and Joker had an idea just who on the crew it was meant for.

But the commander still stood at a perfect parade rest, remaining still for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "Agreed, sir. The Fifth Fleet could've made good use of the resources that went towards the Normandy. But this ship is an exercise in diplomacy as much as it is a prototype in combat, and as a council Spectre," she emphasized the word council, one eyebrow quirking upwards, "it's my duty to play nice with the other council races." Calliope paused, and even in the dim lighting of the bridge Joker could see the way her jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. "I would hope the Alliance appreciates that I'm out here making friends for them."

The answer seemed to placate the rear admiral somewhat, and he eventually gave her a terse nod. "Understood, Commander. In writing my report, I'll be sure to consider the possible advantages of such a… diplomatic venture. But when making friends fails, an overpriced prototype won't be what wins the war."

As he left, Calliope collapsed into the copilot's chair beside Joker. "I need either alcohol or a punching bag, but you know what? I can't have either one, because I get to go meet with the council."

Joker typed up a quick message to Tali so she knew he'd muted the conversation for business and not just to ignore her. With a grin, he turned back to Calliope and shrugged. "Hey, just focus on making friends and playing nice," he offered sweetly, hoping his teasing would either provoke a laugh or a rant from Calliope; both would improve her mood, and Joker was willing to sit through one of her tirades aimed at the council if it meant letting her get some of the stress off of her shoulders.

But instead, she just sat staring at the dormant interface in front of her, a thoughtful frown slowly beginning to form. "Maybe you're right," she muttered, half to herself. "I need Garrus. The council likes turians. And Alenko knows when to keep his mouth shut. But if I had a salarian…"

Giving a light whistle, Joker waved a hand in front of Calliope's still-blank stare. "Hello, earth to Shepard? A salarian?"

She glanced up at him and blinked. "You're a genius. I was just pulling stuff out of my ass with Mikhailovich, but you're right. The council's made up of a bunch of self-interested politicians - a little bit of ass-kissing will go a long way."

"Yeah, maybe you could start with paying attention when they call."

Calliope's moment of revelation was broken by a lopsided grin. "You know that's why they called me here, right? Apparently I need to be fully engaged," she emphasized the words with air quotes and a roll of her eyes, "because this is sensitive information. Something about a distress call, I think."

"And we have to answer it?" he guessed. "Maybe it'll be on some nice, warm planet. Somewhere that's nothing like Noveria. You know it's freezing there, right?"

She pulled herself up out of the copilot's seat, pausing to lean against Joker's headrest. "Mmm. How about this - we save the galaxy, we'll take a whole month of shore leave at one of those asari beach resorts."

"Only if it includes fruity drinks and at least one massage."

"Deal."

"You're in luck," was all Calliope had said after meeting with the council. Joker had needled her - and Kaidan - for more information as they'd walked through the Citadel, but Calliope wouldn't budge.

Joker was leaning halfway out of his chair when they finally came back through the airlock; over the open commlink with engineering, Tali demanded an update as soon as Joker had the full story. "Unless there's beaches, lots of sunshine, and plenty of bikinis, Tali and I are going to be disappointed. Just a heads up."

"I don't care about the beaches," Tali piped up. "The sand gets in my suit and wears out the filters."

"Beaches," Joker repeated, "sunshine, and bikinis."

"There are beaches," Calliope began counting off on her fingers, "great weather this time of year, and a possibly-missing STG team that may or may not have information on Saren."

"So, two out of three. Could be worse. Although I get the feeling that last bit might put a damper on our vacation time."

"We'll work something out." Her voice remained even, but Calliope was clearly fighting to hold back a grin. "Set a course for Virmire."