Mass Effect 3
Rating: T
No real implied pairings.
Let's call this Jaine Shepard 'verse (!Renegade!Earthborn!ButcherofTorfan!Sentinel!)
Prompt: "No! That is not a toilet!" from the me_challenge community at LiveJournal, Insanity round, and... zweihand's freakin adorable chibi drawings of Joker getting a cat and showing it to James, who does not look pleased initially that Joker has a cat. Unfortunately I can't post links here, but head over to the Mass Effect community on LJ and click the fanart tag, I believe it's still one of the top fanart posts. You'll know the picture when you see it. ;)
Summary: The Normandy has adopted a kitty cat, and James isn't too happy about it...

No! That is not a toilet!

James Vega grumbled to himself as he carefully took apart his assault rifle, laying the pieces out in perfect order next to the cleaning kit supplies he'd also laid out in perfect order. Damn Mars dust. It got into everything. He'd already scrubbed over his pistol four times, his armor three times, and he swore he was still finding that damn red dust in the most impossible of places.

He hadn't even started on his rifle yet though, and he coughed as a fine red cloud wafted from beneath the weapon's cowling. He was just about to really get to work on the thing when a small pile of ration boxes stacked to his right clattered to the floor, making him jump, and then swear.

He caught sight of a slinky black tail disappearing around the crates of armor that had been pushed up against the back wall. He hissed a breath between his teeth, shaking his head. "Maltido gato!"

Another product of the Mars mission. The cat had jumped straight at Alenko's face in the pitch-black cafeteria of the Prothean Archives, scaring the shit out of the major to such an extent that it had taken every ounce of Vega's willpower not to burst out laughing. Shepard had not quite been able to help herself, a series of strangled coughs had escaped despite her best efforts.

The words that had come out of Alenko's mouth as the cat had jumped off his helmet and vanished back into the darkness had forced Vega to do a slight reevaluation of the man. And the way he'd stood firm right in the path of that ghoulish robotic apparition called Dr. Eva had also been impressive. So maybe he wasn't just a stuffed shirt, after all.

Shepard, of course, being Shepard, had immediately began cooing to the animal, trying to coax it back out into the open. Somehow she had managed to find it again and lock it in one of the cabinets. And then, after the mission was all over with, despite everything, she had actually taken the time to find a suitably-sized crate, go all the way back to the cafeteria, and retrieve the cat.

So now they had a cat. Maltido gato. It had been nothing but trouble since it came aboard. Though Shepard seemed to enjoy its presence… and strangely, so did Joker. The helmsman had even taken to calling it "his" cat, and the name he had chosen for it – Sissel, of all possible names – seemed to be the one that had stuck.

Vega went back to work, shaking his head again. This was definitely the most unconventional crew he'd ever served with. He focused on scrubbing every nook and cranny of his gun. He couldn't afford to have it jam on him… not with this war going on. Not with the kind of missions Commander Shepard went on. He winced, setting his tools down for a second to roll his shoulders.

Ouch. Maybe he shouldn't have rammed Dr. Eva's shuttle, after all.

A strange sound reached his ears, a bit like a stream of water hitting fabric, but sort of muffled. Vega frowned, stepping around the corner of his makeshift gym to see what the hell was going on. It was the middle of third shift and Cortez was off-duty; at the moment he was the only one in the shuttle bay, making it seem dark and lonely.

Except for the cat, which he quickly noticed was squatting in the middle of the BDU jacket he'd left on the floor after his last weight routine. He lunged at it, hand outstretched in the hopes of inflicting violence. "NO!" he shouted. "La madre que te parió! That is not a toilet!"

His fingertips scarcely brushed the sleek black fur before it was gone, hissing as it streaked away to take shelter somewhere behind the docked Kodiak.

Vega watched it go where it knew he couldn't follow and clenched his fists, bristling. Still swearing virulently, he reached down to pick up his jacket and grimaced at the very pungent wet spot spread across the entire front. He marched over to the console near the elevator, tossing the jacket at his feet as he quickly scanned through the duty roster to find out just where exactly Joker was at this time of night.

So he couldn't complain to Shepard. That was fine. Joker wanted to call Sissel "his cat"? Well then, the helmsman was going to get an earful, oh yes he was…