A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.

I wake up slowly to the sound of a voice.

"Yo. Shit for brains. Wake the fuck up."

A very, very irritated voice.

I force my eyes open, and my bleary vision can make out the fuzzy edges of a head in front of me. A head with…eyes…and a nose. And hair, wait, no hair.

Then I blink again, I see that I'm looking at Jack.

"Thank fuck, I thought I'd have to drag your corpse up to the Commander and tell Cheerleader that for once I didn't fucking kill someone. Believe it or not." She walks off out of my field of vision, and I hear the sound of bedsprings. I look and see that she's sitting on a little cot, and that everything is very dark.

"Where…where am I?" I ask after a moment of regaining sensitivity in my extremities.

"In the lower decks, boozer." Jack said. She sounds relatively pleased with herself for that one. But then her voice hardens a bit. "Specifically, my room. There any reason for that, shitbird?"

"Uh…" I trail off. Then I hear snarky laughter.

"Jesus, this is too good. I'm just fucking with you. You've been passed out there since…well, since last night." She holds up a bottle and dangles it in her fingers. "Don't know where you got this stuff, but the shit's good. Put me out like a light and I only had a sip or two. You drank the whole fucking bottle. What are you, Krogan?"

"Might be." I grumble, shuffling myself upright so that I'm sitting like a regular human and not slouched over. I realize that my back is stiff as hell, and I realize that that is because I'm sitting on the metal steps that lead down into this darkened area of the lower decks. Did I fall asleep on the steps? Did she step over me? Fuck, thinking of all of these questions is just making the headache worse.

She snorts.

"You're certainly bigger than the Commander." She said. Then she frowned. "Look, if you got some sort of problems, don't dump them on me, 'kay? I'm no shrink."

"That's…that's okay." I mumble, blinking once and shaking my head. "I hate shrinks."

She laughes. It's kind of a spiteful sound.

"I like you! If I ever have to kill you, I'll make it painless just for cracks like that." She said. I shrug.

"…Thanks?"

"Don't mention it." Jack said. "Now, I'm done talkin'. I got shit to read." She gestures to the datapad she's cradling on her lap. "You can sit there and work it off, or just leave. I don't care either way." And with that, she disappears into her reading, as if I'm not even there.

I make some sort of noise like an acknowledgement, and I stagger back up the stairs.

…

Thankfully, no one sees me stagger back into the room where Zaeed and I sleep. He's already gone. Must be out doing something with the Commander or with the others. Or maybe he's working out. Either way, I'm glad that he doesn't see me like this. Don't need that one-eyed bastard laughing at me.

I manage to sneak into the showers with some clean clothes, and in a few minutes (okay, closer to twenty) I make my way out of the showers feeling…well, refreshed would be pushing it. But I don't feel like hell anymore. I decided that I could use some coffee.

I find myself wandering into the mess hall. There's a kitchen counter off to the side, and a rather stout looking man in a Cerberus outfit manning the counter. He looks over at me, and he cracks a grin.

"Rough night, kid?"

I grunt in response, not giving him the satisfaction of words. He chuckles to himself.

"Heh. I remember my first time getting gargle-blasted on a ship." He said. "Don't worry. I'll brew you a cup of Joe, blacker than tar and stronger than a Krogan on steroids." He looks at me, and extends his hand. "Name's Rupert Gardner. Mess sergeant and handy-man for the Normandy."

I slowly take the hand and shake it.

"Call me Doc." I said.

"Oh, that's a good one kiddo." He said. "Except you must think I live up my own butt pucker if you think I don't know who you really are. Johnny Shepard."

"Don't call me that."

"Hey…" He says, easing up a bit. "Just makin' friendly conversation."

"Try less friendly. I'm hungover and the last thing I need to think about is my sister."

"Well, you won't see her for a while." Gardner said, handing me a cup of coffee. Just like he said: blacker than tar and strong as a…head hurts too much to finish the thought. Just drink the damn thing. "She's in her office right now with Miss Lawson. They're going over reports and the like. You know: requisitions and stuff." He takes a seat on the other side of the counter, having pulled up a stool and cup of his own.

"She was always a fan of that shit." I said. "I never got it. Though I wasn't a lieutenant and I didn't go to officer school."

"Regular Alliance shock trooper, right?" Gardner asked.

"Yeah…" I said, staring at him suspiciously. If he brings up what I think he's about to bring up I will break this cup over his head and will not shed a tear if Janey spaces me.

"That's a rough life, kiddo." He said. "I worked it for a few years. But the Alliance and the Council ain't doing the right stuff for Humanity or for the galaxy. Cerberus is doing the tough stuff that we need to do to save people."

"You know, I have been on this ship for a few days. And I've even been out on a mission with the Commander. And yet not once have I been told the specifics of this mission."

"You mean you ain't heard?" Gardner asked, his eyes widening. I shook my head.

"I spent the last seven years getting in and out of fights and hangovers in the dredges of the galaxy. Current affairs weren't at the top of my priorities." I said. He looked around from left to right, and then lowered his voice.

"Human colonies on the Terminus are straight up disappearing, kid. And they say that the Collectors are behind it. And that they're working for someone else."

"The who? And the what now?" I ask. I realize that being let in on a great big cover-up while hung over is not the best plan.

"Mr. Gardner, I am afraid that the answers to his questions are far beyond your paygrade."

With that, I see that Miranda has taken a seat next to me. Gardner just stares at her. She frowns.

"Mr. Gardner, what are you doing?"

"Um…thinking, ma'am."

"Well, why don't you think me up a cup of coffee, two creams and two sugars, and a biscotti. While you're thinking?" She manages to put in an utterly ruthless faux-sweet tone to the last sentence, and Gardner swiftly starts firing up another pot. She's still looking forward as she talks. "You need to apologize to Yeoman Chambers."

"For what?" I ask. Now she turns to look at me.

"Christ, must you be so difficult? You've got her all upset that she's doing all the wrong things, or that there's something wrong with her because she can't get through to you. She gets through to everyone, and yet not you."

"Not her fault." I said, glancing over at the woman sitting next to me. "I just hate psychiatrists."

"Jonathan Shepard-"

"Don't call me that." I growl. I don't even care that the others in the room have now gone fearfully quiet. "Just. Don't. Doc is fine."

"Alright…Doc." Miranda said, her eyes narrowing. "Regardless of your opinion of psychiatrists, you should make an effort to let Yeoman Chambers know that she isn't an incompetent psychiatrist."

"What do you propose I do?" I asked testily. Her response was sheer exasperation.

"Christ, I don't know Doc. Buy her a drink, for all I care. Just resolve this issue. Please." She said that last word like it caused her extreme pain. It was kind of funny and strangely adorable in a threatening sort of way. I nod.

"Fine. I'll go talk to her. At some point." I get up to leave.

"The sooner the better." Miranda said. It was her best effort to be diplomatic. I guess for that I had to reward her by actually doing this. Maybe when my hangover had disappeared.

…

I made my way up to the top floor of the Normandy, outside of the captain's quarters of course. There was a lot of activity at the many terminals lining the walls of the ship. Everyone was plugging in equations that gave me a headache worse than my hangover if I tried to think about it.

The Galaxy Map, on the other hand, was utterly gorgeous.

I kept walking forward towards the front of the ship. As I did, I started to hear a rather familiar voice as well as another one that I did not recognize.

"Commander, no offense, but was it really the best idea to bring him aboard?"

"This isn't up for discussion, Joker."

"I know it's not, but you always say that and then you let me say things anyway. I mean, you saw that he straight-up kneecapped that dude. Kneecapped! Like he's been watching too many holovids of, god I dunno, those cheesy gangster flicks from the last century?"

The voice belongs to what I assume is Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau. Apparently his nickname is Joker. Not bad, as far as pilots go. He also has no idea that I have entered the cockpit area. Sis flits her eyes over to see me, and then I catch a flash in her eyes. I am usually on the receiving end of that sort of glint, and it never ends well for me. But this is different. This time I'm not the butt of the incoming joke. So I play along.

"I mean, I knew that the Shepard family might be crazy, because you killed a Reaper (with my help of course) and then came back from the dead but I really don't know if it's wise to bring onto the most dysfunctional ship ever the guy who…" He trailed off. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Greeting, Jonathan Shepard. Flight Lieutenant Moreau was just informing the Commander and myself of his reservations of my in-combat skills as well as your mental facult-"

"Thaaaaaaaank you, EDI!" Moreau said, spinning his chair around to face the two of us. "I was not saying anything of the holyshityouaregigantic." His eyes bugged out of their head as he looked upon me for the first time. There was a pause, and I wished that I had a camera to capture the look of horror on this little man's face. "…Commander?" He asked hesitantly. "Are you sure this is your brother, and not some Krogan wearing a human meatsuit?"

Janey snorts as she tries not to laugh.

"No…This…this is my brother, Joker." She turns to me. "John? This is Joker. I mean, his name is Jeff Moreau but no one calls him that." I grunt as threateningly as I can, but even I'm having trouble maintaining the charade. I extend my hand.

"The pleasure's mine, Lieutenant."

"Commander, you have to tell him not to use his ankle-breaking voice in the cockpit." Joker said, gingerly taking my hand. His bones feel brittle and weak even from this grasp; I bet he has a condition. "Because I think my pelvis just shattered on account of me shitting myself in fear."

"I detect no excremental output at this tim-"

"THANK YOU, EDI!"

At that, I can't help it. I start snickering, and the look of sheer relief on the face of this little man as he realizes that I'm not about to kill him just makes me chuckle harder. Janey turns to look at me.

"Joker's about to dock us at a weigh station for a day's worth of fueling and shore leave. But then we're right back on schedule." She said. She raised an eyebrow. "If you behave yourself, I'll give you a weekend pass, soldier."

"Bite me."

"Ahaha. Humor! Great, now I don't feel like I'm gonna die." Joker said, his relief a little bit too obvious. "If you two are done, then I'll get back to, um, piloting. Yes. Piloting. Not staring at the scary bear that calls itself a human. No sir. Not me." He frantically swiveled his chair around, and was back to work. Jane gestured for me to follow her out of the cockpit.

…

"So." She said as we walked down the hallway.

"So?" I asked.

"So about the Purgatory."

"Are you gonna yell at me for shooting the guy without a gun?"

"No I'm not gonna yell at you. I just…be careful, okay? You're not going to be right about that every time."

"Uh huh."

"And it's…it's very unprofessional to kneecap someone with a pistol."

"Got it."

"…"

"…"

"But thanks anyway, Bro."

"Always, Sis."

…

The Normandy latched itself to the docking station on a planet whose name I couldn't pronounce and who I would forget about as soon as the night ended. I noticed that a good chunk of the crew was leaving for the night to go out and stretch their legs. I saw that even Zaeed was planning on getting out, though knowing him it was probably to go find some old friends and get slammered on their glory days and alcohol. I had no interest in going out, myself.

But then I got a rather devious idea.

"Yeoman Chambers!" I said, leaning against her desk. "You look nice tonight."

"Oh!" She jolted upright, having been leaning over the computer hard at work and totally unaware of my presence. "I'm sorry, Mr. Doc…er, Mr. Shepard sir. I didn't see you." Her face is about as red as her hair right now.

"It's alright. I have a habit of sneaking up on people…despite my size." I admitted. I then cleared my throat. "Listen, um…I sort of wanted to apologize for the way I've been treating you since I got on this ship. I know I'm a bit of a tangled mess and it can't be easy."

"You aren't the worst I've treated." Chambers said, still not making eye contact. I shook my head.

"Still. I don't want you to go around thinking that I hate you. Cuz I don't. So, I was wondering if I could make it up to you." She turned to look at me. Her blush seemed to have faded a little bit.

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about I buy you a drink?" I offer. "I think it's a requirement that all weigh stations like this have a bar with good alcohol and a few bar brawls."

"I don't want to get in a fight!" Kelly said. But then she smiled somewhat. "Might be funny to watch, though." She tapped her chin in thought. "Ok. Give me a few minutes to get out of my Cerberus gear. That might set off…alarm bells."

…

The spaceport bar had a slightly Hawaiian feel to it, and we were sitting at a corner table away from the fun. If you looked to our right, you saw the ships docked and then the vast expanse of space out in front of you, and a few suns rising and setting in the distance. It was kind of breathtaking.

"You know, I never really got a chance to be on a lot of ships." Kelly said. "The Normandy's only my second assignment. First major one."

"Yeah?" I ask. "Well, I've been on more ships than I can count, and I still get butterflies when I see a view like that." I chuckle. "Not the tiki torch. The space…stuff."

"Did you and your sister travel a lot?" Kelly asked.

"Yeah. All the time." I said, taking a sip of my drink. It was, on a scale of 1-10, a sold 6 in terms of quality. Not bad for a spaceport. "'Course, we split time between Mom and Dad."

"Were they divorced?"

"Only by ship." I said. "They were sickening, and in a way sort of helped morale. I mean, Dad put up with some shit from people now and then but never seriously. In fact, he was so devoted to Mom that it sorta…created this family-like vibe on ships. If someone could be that nice and that devoted to someone, then maybe we try it too. Y'know?" I take a sip.

"Do you miss him?"

I stare at her. This could go one of two ways. I either shut down, and she pushes because that's what she's trained to do and I'll snap and scream at her…or I take another route.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

Give her an answer, and nothing more.

"I can sympathize." Kelly said. "Losing a parent must be hard. But I bet you're glad to be with the Commander again."

"Janey?" I ask. "Yeah. I am, I guess."

"That's good. And it'll be alright. You know you can talk to me if you need to, John. *Hic*"

I smile, and raise my glass.

"Of course. Here's to a good friendship, hey Doc?"

We clinked glasses.

…

"Whu-jgb-guh-hrg-YOU SLEPT WITH HER?"

"What? NO!" I growl, ducking under the pistol that has been whipped at me at an alarming speed. "I just gave her a kiss goodnight and then escorted her back to her quarters." I narrow my eyes. "And that's all. Who the hell told you that I slept with Chambers?"

Sis points to Miranda, who holds up her hands in defense.

"I heard it from Mr. Moreau. I thought I'd better cross-reference with the Commander and then get your side." Miranda said. She was clearly being sincere, but it still pissed me off all the same.

"Janey, there are several things wrong with 'Mr. Moreau's' theory. One, I might be a piece of shit in some regards but I would never take advantage of someone that was as drunk as she got last night. Two, isnt there video recording on every floor of this ship?"

"That would be unethical-"

"Can it, Miranda. EDI!" I shouted up to the ceiling. "Am I telling the truth?"

"Affirmative. According to video logs, upon escorting Miss Chambers to her quarters, John Shepard returned to his quarters. He came out later to play cards with Zaeed and Garrus in the mess kitchen, but then returned to his quarters for the remainder of the night."

"Thank you, EDI." I said testily. I glared at both Shepard and Miranda.

"Look, I dunno what you two think of me. Disagree with my methods? Fine. You knew exactly what you were getting when you didn't kick me off this ship like I told you to. And now I'm stuck, because I know about the Collectors or whatever the shit and I can't leave because I 'know too much' or some crap like that." I said. "But hear this. I would never lay my hands on someone like that. That's…" I sigh. "That's not what I was before, Janey…and that's still not who I am. Even after everything else."

Jane's expression softened.

"You're right. You were like what you say you are back then. And I guess I have no reason to doubt you now. I'm sorry." She said. But then her eyes narrowed. "Who told you about the Collectors?"

"Gardner." I said. "Though Miranda cut him off before he got to whatever the good stuff was. Which, by the way, if I'm down with this mission, I gotta know. What the fuck is going on?"

Sis and Miranda exchanged a look. Miranda reached under the desk, and tossed something to me. It was a lighter and a pack of cigars. I looked at them, and then at the two women in front of me.

"You're…inviting me to smoke?"

"When we're done telling you the truth, you'll be glad I did."

"I'll be glad to know the truth, too." I said.

"Well, I can tell you, Bro. But you won't like it."

"Sis, goddammit, just tell me what the fuck is going on!?"

She told me.

I didn't like it.

A/N: A darn ladykiller, John is.