More than a Replacement
"My cabin's your cabin," Shepard once told him, but the place still had the "significant other's space" feel to it. Waiting on the leather couch, Joker couldn't shake the awkwardness of being there alone. Thankfully, Shepard granted him the mercy of speed.
He let himself recline when he heard the door open. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." Looking a bit worse for wear after the mission to Grissom, Shepard made his way down the small set of stairs. The metal case sitting on the table quickly caught his attention. "What's this?"
"I'm told you miss your old sniper rifle…"
"It's true. The Mantis feels like a downgrade from the—" Shepard narrowed his eyes. A cautious smile crept across his lips as his gaze flicked back and forth between Joker and the case. "Wait. You didn't."
Joker replied with a wider grin. "Better."
Shepard stepped forward and undid the case's latches. The long black rifle inside possessed a familiar shape, though sleeker and slimmer than the old Widow lost at Bahak. "Figured you deserved more than just a replacement. Way less recoil, a third of the heat generation, and," Joker paused for dramatic effect, "it matches your armor."
The outright ear-to-ear grin he got reminded him of how few and far between moments like these had become. The war meant that by necessity, Joker had to see far more Commander Shepard and far less Victor. "You know me too well. Thanks," Shepard said, rounding the table then plopping down on the couch. "How'd you get it?"
Joker shrugged. "Japanese, likes wearing black, digs Jacob, penchant for kleptomania?"
"I'll thank her next time I see her." Shepard's gaze drifted back to the Black Widow. "Stay the night?"
"Shiny new guns are the price of admission into your bed?"
Shepard wrapped an arm around Joker's shoulder. "I'd make an innuendo about weapons, but I figure that's more your area of expertise than mine."
Joker made a face. "Oh, come on, I have standards."