The landing pad was completely covered in snow, but the thrusters of their Kodiak melted it before Joker gently landed in front of the magical winter wonderland. The house seemed different from the picture he'd shown her. There was little to be seen of it to begin with, since it was all covered in a meter of snow and the white stuff drained the entire scenery of all other colours. But Jo recognized the structure. There was a woman looking out of the front window. When she saw the shuttle land safely, she disappeared only to come out of the door. Mrs. Moreau was a little shorter than Jo, she had earlobe long, straight, light brown hair, Jeff's nose and mouth, but very different eyes, round and deep brown. He must have gotten his colouring from his father.
"I'm not scared of a Thresher Maw. But I'm scared of getting out there," Jo said.
"Don't be ridiculous," Joker grabbed her by her hand and tugged her towards the door. It opened and let them out right into the middle of a huge puddle amidst all the snow. "Great. That's why I prefer clean and neat space docks."
"Jeff!" Mrs. Moreau called out and hurried towards the opened shuttle, wrapping a jacket tighter around her.
"Mum," he stepped out into the fresh air and grabbed the woman into a tight hug. She seemed a little surprised, probably wasn't used to hugs because of his bones, but she returned it immediately. "Mum, this is Johanna Shepard. Jo, please meet my mum, Silvia Moreau."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Moreau, and just let me express my gratitude for letting me stay at your home."
Mrs. Moreau looked at Jo carefully, then addressed Joker:
"This is the girl you spoke about? Your Shepard?"
"Yes, mum, don't look at me like that. Stranger things happen out there, you know."
"I'm sorry," she turned to Jo and extended her hand. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just heard so much about you and seen you on the news so many times, I pictured you somewhat older. Please, come on into the house. It's an honour having you under my roof. And please, call me Silvia."
"Thank you very much, Silvia. Call me Johanna."
"Very well."
Jo carried her and Joker's duffel bags when they fought their way out of the puddle and through the snow towards the house.
"Your Shepard?" She whispered to Joker behind his mother's back.
"Sue me," he waved her off, but she noticed a little pink on his ears.
"Jeff, what do you think you're doing, having Johanna carry your bag?!" Silvia suddenly exclaimed, after she looked back at them.
"It's not like…" he began, but Jo interrupted him:
"Silvia, I'm the brawn, he's the brain. It's okay."
"You're still a woman and he should treat you as such, no matter how weak his bones are."
"Yes, but..."
Joker quietly wrestled his bag away from her and stomped after his mother. Jo shrugged. Silvia led them inside the house and closed the door tightly before the cold air could invade. The inside of the house was very warm and Jo immediately felt the effects. Her cheeks flamed up, her fingertips began tingling and a very cold feeling inside her chest began pulsing as she inhaled the warm air. This feeling of the eternal cold of open space wanted to stay, but the heat of the house threatened to chase it away. For a moment Jo felt dizzy and swayed, but leaned against a wooden doorframe before the Moreaus could notice. She had never been to a home like this. Growing up on the streets among people who slept behind dumpsters, on concrete floors in a warehouse, in cardboard beds under bridges or – if they were lucky – with twenty other people in a ten square meter room, she never knew real homes with stoves and fireplaces and paintings on the walls and a grandmother's sewing chest by the sofas.
"Go get your bags to your room, and I'll finish making dinner. Johanna, I hope you like omelette," Silvia said.
"I like everything," Jo said with gratitude, wrestled the bags back from Joker and followed him around two corners into a medium size bedroom. It was almost a shock to her when the doors didn't slide open. Instead Joker actually pushed a handle and opened them. The floors were made of wood and the walls were painted crème beige. In fact, old-fashioned wood was everywhere, the bed was made of it and so were the book cases and drawers.
"The whole interior is so warm…" Jo marvelled, looking around. "Wood and warm colours…"
"Yes, my mum always had a nostalgic fashion sense in decorations." Joker let Jo take in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"I've never seen wooden book shelves."
"Nor doors that have handles, I presume," Joker grinned.
"That, too." She walked to the window with curtains – curtains! – shielding the glass, and looked outside. "The snow. Not a level three hazardous ice storm, but a normal snow. Don't remember the last time I saw one of these…"
"Back on Earth?"
"Yeah. It's been years. I wanna go out and make a huge pile and then throw myself into it!"
"Nobody's stopping you. In fact, I'll join you," Joker opened one of the bags and tossed a warm jacket at her. Jo was already pulling it over her arms as the two of them raced each other towards the front door.
"Where are you going?" Silvia stepped out of the kitchen. "I'm almost done with dinner! And you just got here!"
"Outside, mum! Snowball fight military style!"
Outside they saw a few neighbourhood kids around their Kodiak. Even on Benning it wasn't every day that a battle scarred high grade military standard armoured personnel carrier landed in someone's front yard.
Jo didn't even bother to zip up the jacket, she just threw herself into the white, cold mass next to the landing pad. It crunched under her weight and gave in just enough to swallow her frame. For a few moments Jo just lay there, looking up into the sky, crunching snow in her hands and breathing deeply. Joker was standing over her, grinning widely. The kids, ranging between five and seventeen years old, looked at them both with interest. Silvia Moreau didn't get visitors all that often, especially not with such flashy rides.
Eventually Jo stretched out her hand and Joker helped her out of the snow. But as she was still brushing off the white stuff, something suddenly hit her in the back.
Jo turned around sharply, instincts taking over for a second. Behind her she saw the kids standing around, and one of them, a boy of probably ten, hiding behind his big brother's back with a sly grin on his face. Jo immediately relaxed.
"Oh, it's like that?" She exclaimed and bent down to grab some snow. The boy giggled with delight and ducked behind the Kodiak. Jo threw a snowball and it hit the shuttle wall, not far from a girl's shoulder. The girl shrieked and grabbed some snow to throw at Jo in return. All hell broke loose. All the children, eight in total, joined in, throwing snowballs at Jo and Joker, and the two of them quickly constructed a barrier to hide behind.
"Finally a battle that I can participate in!" Joker cackled, throwing snowball after snowball at the two elder boys. Those two had practised aim and got them both several times, even though neither had the same dead-on aim as Joker. Jo, meanwhile, didn't press the snowballs hard, or sometimes not at all, so that they fell apart before they even hit anything. She threw at the smaller kids, especially girls, and they laughed, shrieked, ran around with delight, not hurt by the potentially very hard icy ammo, but still enjoying being a part of the battle.
Jo didn't have to take any of the snowballs thrown by the children. She could have evaded them all without effort, but for their benefit she allowed several to hit her above the waist and even spectacularly took one right in her face. The boy who threw it, the same one who started the battle, yapped in fear, as Jo bent over, covering her face with her hands, pretending to be really hurt. The battle stopped and everyone looked at her. Joker carefully tried to help her, but she didn't let him. The kids gathered closer and the boy stepped right in front of her:
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, lady…" he said in a trembling voice. Jo took her hands off her face, showing him that there was no damage and that she was actually grinning like mad. She launched at the boy, grabbed him and threw him over her hip, like in basic training, right on top of a pile of soft snow.
He yelled with joy, and other kids laughed, jumping into the same pile after him. The adventure was complete. Everyone was laughing themselves silly, and the clear voices of the children carried across half the settlement.
While the kids were still in the snow, Joker grabbed Jo's jacket front and pulled her into a kiss. They both had red faces, snow was all over them, their hands cold, their hair wet, clothes in disarray, but it was a perfect moment, tranquil and pure.
When the kids were finally out of the snow and Jo and Joker were done kissing for now, Jo helped the little ones brush the snow off their clothes, so that their parents wouldn't be cross with them.
"Are you visiting Miss Silvia?" The smallest one, a girl of about five, asked her.
"Yes, I am. I'm Jo, by the way. What's your name?"
"I'm Harriett. Nice to meet you."
"Jo is a boy's name," another girl said.
"No, it's actually short for Johanna, and that is definitely a girl's name," Jo smiled.
"Is that a real military standard Kodiak?" One of the bigger boys asked Joker.
"Sure is."
"Can we look inside?"
"Sure, go right ahead," he said and kicked the Kodiak's side. The hatch opened. It looked very cool, even though Jo knew that the hatch didn't open from the kick, but from the transmitter in his omnitool.
The boys herded right into the cockpit, while the smaller ones just walked inside the shuttle's main room, touching everything they could, telling stories they heard on the news about space battles and quoting some war vids.
Jo leaned against the doorframe and watched them. Harriett tugged at her sleeve:
"It's going to snow all night, my dada says. Would you like to come to my place and make a snowman?"
"A snowman? I love making snowmen. Maybe I'll come. Where do you live?"
"Over there in a house with blue roof!" She pointed at a house down the road.
"Tell you what, Harriett," Jo knelt down. She already knew that a snowman thing would attract another herd of kids. "Why don't you come to our house, right here, tomorrow morning, and we make a snowman right on the sidewalk, so that everyone who passes him can see?"
"Okay!"
"And don't forget to tell your parents where you're going, so that they don't worry. See, Jeff over there is Missis Silvia Moreau's son, and I'm Jeff's lady-friend. Bring your friends, too, it's more fun together."
"I will!"
The boys meanwhile were begging Joker to take them on a joyride.
"Some other time, boys, save some fun for another day. We and the shuttle will be here for a couple of weeks."
They looked a little disappointed, but encouraged by a half-promise he made. Jo noticed Silvia looking out of the kitchen window with a small smile.
"Jeff, I think dinner is ready," Jo called into the cockpit. The kids didn't want to leave, but they didn't press the issue with half-strangers. Some of them remembered Joker from his last visit over two years ago, but he still wasn't a familiar face.
"You're very engaging with children, Johanna," Silvia said, placing a plate with omelette, bacon, tomatoes, cheese and bread in front of her. She seemed to know a soldier's stomach.
"Yeah, I didn't know that," Joker nodded, inhaling the scent of his own food.
"Neither did I. Never had use for kids in my life, but they're so… I don't even know."
"I believe pure and innocent are the words you're looking for," Silvia smiled gently, sitting down as well.
"I suppose. We don't see many children where we go, at least not normal children, healthy and happy like that."
"It must be tough on you."
"That's why we're on vacation right now, mum. We need to recharge the batteries, so to speak."
"Where did you leave the ship?" Silvia asked.
"A private port up at the Uzula district. They're going to hide her from the public."
Silvia nodded and for a moment they all ate in silence.
"So. Talk to me, young people," she said eventually. "How did the two of you happen?"
"Mum!" Joker swallowed some air and coughed.
"It's all right, your mum deserves to know what kind of woman is in your life right now," Jo said. She looked all correct, beautiful, enchanting, charming, young with her rosy cheeks, delicate, with narrow shoulders and small white hands gently bent over her empty plate. Practically every mother's dream. "I confessed my feelings to him about three months ago, but until about three weeks ago he kept rejecting me. And then he couldn't anymore. We were going on what seemed to be a suicide mission and…"
"And we happened," he interrupted her.
"Suicide mission," Silvia said, her voice empty.
"Yes, that's what we do, mum," Joker said sternly.
"For which there is no excuse," Jo interrupted him. "And I'm sorrier than you can ever imagine for putting your son in that position."
"Johanna, don't apologise. I know what you do is important, and I understand that Jeff's talent can help you survive and achieve great things. I know that you died saving his life once already. I'm grateful for that. And, most importantly, for loving him."
"No, Silvia, it is I who has to thank you."
"For what?"
"For your son, of course. I've been across the universe, met thousands of people, and never encountered anyone like him."
"Ladies, stop crying immediately. You're making me want to puke."
Silvia got out of her chair and walked around the table to get the dishes. As she took Joker's, she leaned down and kissed him on top of his head, ruffling his hair. He tried to weasel out, but not seriously. The tips of his ears became dark pink. Jo noticed that he'd taken his hat off upon entering the house after the snowball fight. Apparently there were rules about hats in this house.
"I'm your mother and I can cry whenever I want," she stated. "Why aren't you shaving anymore?"
"Mum, because my girlfriend likes it that way!"
"You had that beard before you ever met me," Jo protested.
"So you don't like it?" He teased back.
"Oh, I do. Very much. You wouldn't be you without it." Jo got up and began helping Silvia clean the table.
"You don't have to do that, dear," the elder woman said, but Jo shrugged:
"I've never been in a real family home in an actual kitchen. I wouldn't even know how half of these things work if you don't let me help you. That's what I wanted to do on our vacation. You know, something normal people do every day."
Silvia looked at Jo attentively.
"It's true, then? No family, no home back on Earth?"
"Yes, street rat almost since birth."
"Well, if you really insist, you can help me put the dishes into the washer over there."
"Gladly."
Joker left the women in the kitchen and went to the bedroom to unpack some things. They didn't bring that much with them. Soldiers most of their lives, they always travelled light and learned not to need much. His mother's house seemed stuffed full with little things, unnecessary things that never made their way onto a space ship. Every soldier had one or two trinkets in their footlockers, but a house full of them seemed entirely too decadent, even to him. Books, pictures, vases, curtains, rugs, cushions, painted plates, souvenirs and much more. He tried to imagine what it must look like to Jo, but failed to grasp the concept of someone never having been in a regular family home.
Once Joker was gone from the kitchen, Jo noticed the temperature drop several degrees. Still, she put the dishes into the dishwasher as if nothing was the matter. He had assured her that his mother would like her, but Jo had no such illusions. She knew she was about to be confronted and not in any pleasant way.
"So, Johanna," Silvia said very quietly, making sure nobody outside the room could hear her. "How did the two of you really happen?"
"Silvia, I realise right now that you'd better call me Jo. All my friends do that, and Johanna sounds way too official." Jo examined the buttons on the dishwasher calmly, setting the program. It looked small and innocent compared to the one in Gardner's kitchen, which was meant to deal with dishes from 25 people at once.
"If you insist," Silvia leaned her hip against the kitchen counter next to Jo and crossed her arms on her chest. "Jo, I need to know what you want from my son."
Jo straightened up and wiped her hands on the towel she'd seen Silvia use for that purpose earlier. She faced the other woman head-on.
"I'm the woman who loves him and he loves me back. What do you think I want from him?"
Silvia's eyes narrowed, but they were interrupted by Joker coming in.
"Mum, are you pumping Jo for information?"
"I see you once every couple of years, if I'm lucky. I want to get as much as I can out of this visit," Silvia said. "You never tell me anything, so I have to dig."
"If your mother is half as skilled at interrogating as you are," Jo smiled at him. "Then I'm in real trouble."
Joker stepped in and handed his mother a photo album, an actual hardcover book with pages filled with printed pictures.
"Here you go, show Jo all my childhood pictures, like you always wanted to, and let's get this embarrassment over with quickly."
"You offer this voluntarily?" Jo teased.
"I removed all the really embarrassing ones."
"Silvia, you wanted to show me his childhood pictures?"
"No. It's just something his father and I used to say: come on, Jeff, smile, one day you'll bring a girl home and we'll show her these pictures, so you wanna look good."
"I see. Well, then, come on and shock me."
Silvia put on a pair of antique glasses and they sat down around the kitchen table. Jo wondered why the woman hadn't had her sight corrected, like the rest of humanity, but judging by the doors with handles, printed pictures and wooden bookshelves Silvia Moreau was stuck in another time, probably 300 years ago. They'd spent a couple hours looking at the pictures, sharing stories, talking over tea and cookies.
"You know what's funny?" Jo took a sip of her already cold tea. "Jeff hardly ever told me anything about his life before the Normandy, but everything you tell me about him sounds exactly like the man I know."
"Really?"
"Yes. Stubbornness, sarcasm, defiance and an unbreakable will to fight. I see that every day." She turned to Joker: "Life didn't make you who you are, you've always been you." She leaned her temple against his and for a moment they both forgot their surroundings in a moment of perfect love.
Jo wondered if Joker even knew that his mother was a far better actress than he was giving her credit for, or if he knew how much effort she was making to seem polite around Jo. It was obvious that he was spectacularly wrong: his mother didn't like Jo at all. She might have accepted the fact that her son had landed under her command while serving in the Alliance, she might have respected Jo's achievements and was grateful for saving his life that one time, but the moment their relationship became romantic, Silvia Moreau's grudging acceptance turned into fierce disapproval. Jo was not the kind of woman Silvia wanted her son to be with, and Jo would have lied if she said she didn't understand. She understood perfectly where Silvia was coming from. It still didn't mean that Jo was going to give in to this mother's wishes. It was Joker's choice to make and he'd made it.
"I see you're both tired," Silvia said after observing them for a while. "Go to your room, I'll be heading to sleep soon, myself."
Joker nuzzled against Jo's cheek and whispered to her: "You go ahead, I'll be right there."
She nodded and left after wishing Silvia good night.
"Mum, if you hear screams in the middle of the night, don't worry. Jo is having nightmares. I will deal with it, if it happens."
"Nightmares? About what?"
"Oh, let me see, death, imminent destruction of the galaxy, suicide mission, take your pick."
"You're right, stupid question. Well, then, I shall not be worried if I hear screams."
"Thanks," he turned to leave, but she held him back:
"Are you sure about her?"
"In what way?" He asked with a little frown of confusion.
"Are you sure she is what you need?"
"Let me see. A hot woman who sees me for who I really am and accepts me fully, who likes everything about me, who would do anything to take care of me… Yeah. I'm pretty sure."
"She's going to get you killed, either literally, or figuratively, when she dies."
Joker didn't comment on his mother's semantics. He knew that there was no 'if' about Jo's death. There was only a 'when'.
"Then so be it," he said solemnly and left.