Joker kissed like he flew. It was insistent, passionate, reckless and absolutely breathtaking. He tasted of the wine, like cherries and spice and something faintly earthy. Shepard wondered briefly where he'd gotten it, before the thought was chased away by the feel of his beard against her cheek. It was so unfamiliar, such a contrast to the softness of his lips, and she reveled in it until they were forced apart by lack of oxygen. She rested a hand on Joker's chest, reassuring him – or perhaps herself – that she wasn't going anywhere. There was an expanse of hard muscle under her fingers, and Shepard silently thanked Chakwas for whatever regimen she did with Joker. It was clearly worth it, and she intended to say so - as soon as she remembered how to speak.
Shepard had all but climbed into his lap, consciously keeping her weight off his legs. The realization that she could hold on to that much control dispelled most of her worry, and prompted the thought that the position held a certain amount of promise. Something in her expression must have given her away, because Joker suddenly grinned and tugged playfully on a lock of her hair. There was something so casual, so easy, about the gesture, as though the years of tension and discomfiture had been leading to that point all along.
"Now that was interesting," he said. "I think the last time I saw that look on your face, you'd just figured out how to reassemble the Collector particle beam."
"Oh, God," Shepard groaned, trying to hide her face. The worst of it was, he was probably right. How sad was it that most of the joy in her life of late had been heralded by heavy weaponry?
"Ah, ah," Joker said, catching her wrist. "There's no way you're getting out of this one. I'm onto you, Shepard. If you're trying to hide, it must be something really good."
He looked inordinately pleased with himself, and Shepard wondered what his reaction would be if she told the truth. As a matter of fact, I was just sitting here imagining having my way with you. "I-"
"Shepard!" a voice boomed from the doorway. She jumped, not having heard the door open, and that was a bit alarming. "I think I finally figured out – oh." Garrus froze midway across the room, a datapad dangling from his talons. His eyes widened as he took in her position. She started to scramble away, wondering if there wasn't some kind of limit to how much embarrassment a person could suffer in one night.
Joker's hand tightened on her wrist, and something painfully vulnerable flashed in his eyes, belying the stubborn set of his body. Did he think, even now, that she was ashamed to be seen with him? She slid her free hand through the thick hair at his nape, leaving it to rest on his neck in a gesture that was both possessive and comforting. She could feel him relax, his eyes closing briefly before he offered her a grateful smile.
"Hey Garrus," Sheppard said with forced nonchalance, as though she wasn't straddling her pilot. "What've you got?"
The turian studied them, his bright eyes unblinking as they flicked from her hand to Joker's face to the remains of their dinner. Shepard was reminded of the way he surveyed a battlefield, lightning-quick but missing nothing. "It's..." Garrus nodded once, as though he'd come to a decision. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." His teeth widened into something that was at once a smile and downright terrifying, as he fixed Joker with a piercing look. "Just remember...assault rifle," he growled, before turning and striding quickly from the room.
"I wonder what that was all about," Shepard mused. "And I can't believe I didn't hear him come in. Good thing it wasn't an assassin, or we'd be screwed."
"Yeah," Joker said, nodding. His voice was serious, but Shepard could see him trying not to smile. "Or zombies." He paused, considering. "Although, zombies do tend to do that whole shuffle-and-moan thing, so you probably would have noticed. And there's always the smell."
Shepard shook her head. "What did I ever do to deserve this? Zombies, I ask you," she muttered.
Joker's eyes had taken on a faraway look. "I think we'd actually be pretty well equipped to handle a zombie apocalypse. Between those Thorian thralls and the husks – and hey, don't think I didn't notice that flamethrower you smuggled on here. Although, incendiary grenades-"
"Joker?" Shepard interrupted.
"Hm?" he replied absently, his gaze still fixed somewhere over her shoulder.
She tugged gently on his hair, watching in amusement as his eyes refocused. "Shut up," she whispered, leaning forward to capture his lips once more.
A/N: I don't know what's worse, how long it took me to get this chapter out, or how short it is. If it's any consolation, I'm working on the next one! Also, shameless self-promotion: If anyone is interested in a post-NWN2 story featuring Bishop and the Knight Captain, you should check out 'Villains by Necessity,' co-written by myself and Vshard under the name TerrifyingSpaceMonkeys.