Shepard jerked awake. Her groan of exasperation was loud inside the covers she pulled up over her head. For the third time that night she sat up, hands clasped around her own shoulders. Nothing but the low rumble of the ship and her own breathing filled her ears. The floor was cold under her feet. Shepard got dressed. As she pulled on an undershirt and slid her hoodie on over her shoulders, she paused to watch the fish in the aquarium. Her favourite was an eel-like creature. Its colourful ribbon of a body slowly wound through the plants.
She touched her hand to the glass. "I wish I was more like you," she said. The eel's round, lidless eyes stared back at her. "All you worry about is your next meal, and since Kelly comes up here now, even that's not much of a concern anymore." She reached up and scattered some freeze-dried food on the surface of the water. The fish all rose up to the gleaming surface. They had no dreams to suffer from, or for.
The cargo bay was a change of scenery, albeit a little bland. But, perhaps bland was good. Nobody tended to lurk around it much at night which made it the perfect place to pace. Shepard's nervous energy drove her into doing countless laps. There was little point in counting them anyway; she only wanted to tire herself out. Make it so her brain would stop its demented show reel every time she closed her eyes. The Reaper IFF box was out there, waiting. Perhaps getting that would be the catalyst to a dreamless sleep.
The hiss of the elevator door opening stopped her mid-step. Garrus stepped out. His three-fingered hands stroked up and down the long bladed fringe atop his head. At the sight of him, she grit her teeth. She didn't want to be annoyed with him, but his initiative in taking the shot at Lehyra could have cost them all. Would have, if Jack hadn't been so on the ball.
Upon spotting her, Garrus lifted his head in surprise. "Oh, Shepard," he said, straightening up in surprise. "I, uh, didn't expect you to be here."
"Hello," she said through pursed lips. "What are you doing, skulking around the cargo bay at this hour?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he said as he came to a stop a few feet in front of her. He looked to the floor, his mandibles parted in a weary smile.
"It's my ship," she said with a sigh and crossed her arms. They stood in silence for a moment. Garrus' deep-set blue eyes were dilated wide and the rumble that issued from high in his throat hinted at some extreme stress. Shepard caught herself standing stiff, leaning forward, teeth clenched. She must've looked ready to lunge at him, and with a deliberate shake of her shoulders, she made an effort to dial it back a little.
The noise in his throat quieted. "How about this… I'll tell you my thing if you tell me yours."
"Okay, that sounds like a fair compromise," she said. "Shoot."
"I'm here because…" he looked up, with the plates on his forehead pulled together. "I keep having dreams." He shook his head and waved his hand. "It's not realistic, I know, and this might sound strange to you because… they're not targeting quarians, but…" he trailed off, seeming at a loss between expressing himself and downplaying it all. "I keep dreaming about seeing Tali's face mask in one of those pods we saw."
"The Collector's ship, huh? That's… strange. Go on."
"Sometimes it's that. Sometimes it's her suit getting punctured by one of those things. Spirits know what horrors they're covered in. It's not like I can headshot a virus, I mean… she'd probably die in less than a minute."
"Probably," nodded Shepard.
"Was that meant to help?" he asked, his hard tone catching her by surprise.
"Garrus, you know me," she said. She shook her head. "I'm not big on sugar-coating. There's not much I can say to that," Shepard said with a shake of her head. "What can I say? Don't worry, it'll never happen?" The disappointment and fear in his eyes made her sigh. "You know as well as I do that those fears make sense, and that's the worst thing about them. They're more than just nightmares." Her head throbbed, and rubbing her temples did next to nothing. "That's why we're not able to just roll over and go back to sleep."
"We?" Garrus tilted his head, a new noise low in his long throat. It took a while to place it, but the strangled rumbling sounds he was making reminded Shepard of a cat, purring. Cats sometimes purred when stressed or in pain; she wondered if turians were the same. "That's why you're here?" he asked. "I'm not the only one being kept up at night?"
"No, mine are pretty awful, too."
"I told you mine," he said.
"There was a corpse on that Collector ship that looked a lot like Joker. I can't forget it," she said. "I get dreams where they either shove him into one of those things, or they…" She closed her eyes. "It doesn't matter."
Garrus nodded. The silence between them felt different somehow. He tilted his head. "I remember you staring at those people for a while."
"I wish I hadn't. We almost lost the Normandy today," she said stiffly. "I was trying to grab the thing in her hand when you took your shot. We would've lost everyone."
He paused for some time and looked at the floor, somewhere off to the side. "I know." He cleared his throat. "I was thinking about that earlier. I didn't take that shot lightly. I…" His eyes met hers for a moment. "I would have lost Tali today, too." The turian looked tired. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but his metallic carapace didn't hold its lustre like usual. He looked flat, dull almost.
"I don't know what I would've done," said Shepard. "To tell you the truth, Garrus, I feel like I have a bone to pick with you over it, but I think I'm too tired to be angry right now."
"I know you do," he said, his brow plates raised. "Maybe it's a strange thing to say… but I'm glad you're too tired."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not that tired. Speaking of strange things to say… I sometimes feel like your initiative is a good thing that I'm getting in the way of," she said. "I worry that I'm holding you back."
Garrus' mandibles fluttered. His pupils contracted into pinpoints. "I don't think so."
"You did a good job leading those men on Omega. You focus a lot on how it ended, but… you forget, my first squad were all eaten by a Thresher Maw. My failure on Akuze galvanised me. Taught me to take charge properly," she said. "At times, I wonder if I'm keeping you from doing the same."
The tall turian shifted his weight. From the way he held his head, he looked as though he was again caught in a conflict between thoughts and words. Garrus' eyes dilated once more. "Sometimes, I dream that you get carried off by a swarm of those bug things," he said as his gaze lowered to the floor. "It's… hard to put into words."
Shepard nodded. The prospect wasn't pretty. "I see."
"Tali and I both have had that same nightmare." Garrus hesitated, his eyes flicking as he studied her face. "Shepard… I don't try so hard to protect you and Tali because I think you're incapable," he said, and his shoulders drooped. "I try because I care. The only way I do manage to get back to sleep after one of these little episodes, aside from skulking around for a while, as you put it… is remembering that you're in charge. You're the one calling the shots, and you're our best hope against everything out there." He looked off to the side, his mandibles vibrating. "I took that shot when I did because… I was scared that if I didn't, you wouldn't be here anymore to call the shots yourself."
She touched his arm. "You know I'll do my best."
His long fingers rested atop her hand. "I know. That's why it doesn't matter what they throw at us."
They stood for a moment with his fingers curled around her hand. Purring rose up again from somewhere deep in Garrus' chest, its particular timbre unfamiliar. His eyes were the easiest features of his face to read, and were full of such softness and sincerity that she had to look away.
"You and Tali must be close if you're sharing dreams," she said. "Even if they're bad ones."
He showed his long teeth in a grin. "You and Joker must be close if you're going to cafés. Even if they're also bad ones," he said with a soft chuckle. Shepard resisted her instinct to pull away when Garrus squeezed her shoulder, and allowed the touch a little while. "I just wish we all had a chance to do things like that more often. I know Tali wants to go places other than the Main Battery and the Engine Room sometimes."
"Anywhere you have in mind?"
"I… want to take her to the physical set where the Fleet and Flotilla series is shot. She's crazy about that show," he said as his mandibles flexed with a laugh. "I wasn't so sure about the standalone vid, but the series is alright. I figure I could name drop you to get her and I up there… With everything going on, who knows how long it'll be around for."
"You gonna do the pose?" she asked with a grin. "Tell me you're going to do the pose and get someone to take a Holo."
"Are you volunteering?" he asked. "It would be easier to name drop you if you were actually there."
"I don't think you want me as your third wheel, Garrus," she laughed.
"Bring Joker."
Shepard smiled, closed her eyes and shook her head. "I've never seen Tali's face before, but somehow I can imagine exactly what expression she'd pull."
"Oh, I'll tell you something you apparently didn't know about Joker," he said. "He's a fan."
"Of Fleet and Flotilla? Joker?" Shepard covered her smile of disbelief.
"When we first started playing poker down here, those two would sit next to each other and make constant in-jokes about it. It got so annoying that I watched the whole thing just so that I could understand what they were saying." His rasping laughter made Shepard's stiff shoulders relax and her aching leg somehow not hurt as bad. "Then I ended up enjoying it. I used to wonder why none of that ever set off Jack, but I guess it makes sense now."
She pictured Jack curled up in her room in the hold, watching the romance drama unfold, face lit up with a smile she would never let anyone see. "I should thank her," mused Shepard. "She really had our backs today."
"She did."
"I think I'm going to try and get back to sleep." Shepard straightened up and lifted her head high. "Prepare yourself, we're going to go for that IFF… Once we have it, it'll take some time to figure out what to do with it. Maybe we can give Joker and Tali something to look forward to, huh?"
"I'm only too glad to end my skulking around a little earlier than I thought." The turian stood a little taller himself, which was saying something given that he towered over the somewhat petite Shepard. "Don't let the Collectors nip you, I think the adage goes… Pleasant dreams, Shepard."
"No dreams at all, Garrus."
"Mmm… yes. No dreams."
/ / / / / /
Grunt waited in front of the airlock doors. To his right, the orange light of the dying star Mnemosyne filled the cockpit. Out past Joker's seat, winds whipped clouds into thick streams of gas. The Normandy shook everywhere and it was hard to stand. Shepard talked to her mate for a moment, holding the back of his seat for balance. Grunt couldn't hear what she was saying, but the ship stabilised.
"What just happened?" Shepard asked.
"The Reaper's mass effect field is still active. We just passed inside their envelope," Joker replied.
Its machine corpse looked like a Charrdokah Tick with holes in it. Shepard looked back at him like she expected something. She smelled spicy, like she always did when near her mate, but also like determination. A little like coffee, too.
"How old did the Cerberus scientists say it is?" he asked her. Grunt liked the idea of getting onboard a dead Reaper. He could see how it worked, find out good ways to break it from the inside and his three-fingered hands flexed at the thought. Warlord Padresha Banadar's memories lived inside him as if they were his own. When he closed his eyes, Grunt stood in her armour. Her delight when tearing apart the salarian-made machines flowed through him, and he grinned. Nothing like a Reaper could ever die, but if he punched it in the right place hard enough, maybe it would learn how.
"They don't know exactly. The datafile I got said they estimated it's been hanging out there for millions of years. Millions."
"Hmm," he muttered in reply. "Something fish-like is happening." Shepard did something with her eyebrows. She liked it when he used human expressions. Shepard gestured for him and Garrus to follow close behind as she went through the airlock doors.
The stink of blood was a little muted because of the low temperature. A thin layer of frost covered the walls, like on the Collector's Ship. The place seemed in pretty good condition except for the decapitated guy near the airlock. Shepard moved from station to station and took time to listen to records left by the scientists. Grunt became preoccupied with a high-pitched whine that vibrated in the walls and his skull. He shuddered. The noise made his spine tingle in a way he hated. As they approached a door at the far end of the lobby, the sound intensified. The floor rumbled and shook as the door retracted. The stench of rot billowed in. Grunt flexed his arms and lowered his head. Underneath the smell of decay, he detected the pungence of desiccated husks somewhere out there, probably hiding on the catwalk they stepped out onto. Shepard talked on her earpiece to what sounded like Joker, but out of every few words spoken, it seemed like one was missing or backwards. He tapped the device sitting just inside the opening of his ear canal. Every now and then, his translator malfunctioned in this way. Maybe I need a new one? Anyway. Grunt busied himself with scanning the horizon for signs of movement. Whatever the bigger plan was, his was to stick close. It's weird we can breathe inside a Reaper. I guess Cerberus has been here for a long time?
Groaning and wails split the air.
"Here they come!" he roared.
The platforms crawled with husks. Grunt plowed through them, bellowing in rage as they bounced off his armour, were crushed beneath his feet and blown apart with his shotgun. Shepard pushed on ahead. When he could spare a moment, he admired the precision and purpose behind the way she lifted the scope to her eye. She wasted no time, never hesitated as they made their way through hordes of the screaming, groaning things. She didn't miss a single shot, and one by one, a row of advancing monsters had their heads explode. Shepard's armour glinted black and green as she lowered her rifle and charged forward. His chest swelled with pride. One day he would be just like her, only a lot taller.
Garrus hung back. The turian spent most of his time with his tiny eye up to the scope, very unlike Shepard. Having such a small field of view must make it difficult to see the expressions of his prey. How boring is that? As husk after husk fell at a distance, Grunt flexed his arms and stamped his feet, waiting for the next wave. Maybe Garrus' technique had something to do with his being so uptight all the time. How could he get relief from all the rage coursing through his veins without seeing the fear reflected in his prey's eyes? There was such a thing as being too efficient. Grunt's scales itched with the need to ram into something, but there were no enemies left. He launched into a sprint, following close behind Shepard, whose abrupt stop almost made him trip. She made herself small, her back against a stack of barrels, and peeked over the top.
"How many is that for you, Garrus?" She asked, her teeth bared. No, not bared - smiling, he reminded himself. Humans had such rubbery faces and it was hard to remember what all the different shapes meant sometimes.
"Twenty-three," came his reply over the earpiece.
"Oh yeah? Feeling a little bloated from breakfast still? I'm at thirty-four already, c'mon, get with it."
"Stop taking them down so fast, I have nothing to do," grumbled Grunt.
Shepard jerked her head toward the far platform, where pale hands were clawing at the lip of the catwalk. A sensation like sweet fire set his blood alight and every nerve flared to tingling life with the need to stomp, crush, rip and tear. He thundered towards the enemy, anticipation screaming in every muscle.
A husk exploded in a shower of thick black fluid.
"Thirty-five!" Shepard crowed.
"Your sloppy shots may have taken out a few more, but I'm more precise. That should count for more points." There was a sour note in Garrus' voice and Grunt laughed even as he hurled a writhing husk far below them.
"What's it matter how precise you are, if I end up getting more?" She teased.
"Oh, call me when you get three off of one ricochet. Everyone knows the head is harder to get," said Garrus. The turian was such a snob, but he had a point.
"Yeah, that is true. Garrus gets more head," said Grunt as he jammed a fresh thermal clip into his shotgun. Neither clan nor krantt had anything to say for an unusual amount of time. Grunt paused to rub the side of his head against his pauldron, trying to adjust his earpiece.
"...Well, I don't know, Garrus. Do you?" Shepard cackled.
"Sadly, and it isn't Tali's fault, but I think out of the two of us you're actually likely to get more."
"That doesn't make any sense. Garrus gets more head. Shepard gets more centre-of-mass."
"Hmm," Garrus replied sceptically. "Does Joker know how to give 'centre-of-mass,' Shepard? Or have you not had the time to find out?"
Grunt all but jammed his finger in his earhole. Those damn implants were so small.
"I am listening, just so you know," Joker's voice chimed in. "Never question a man's ability to give centre-of-mass, Garrus. Some cultures consider that an act of war."
"Can I get a new earpiece?" asked Grunt.
"I'll look into it for ya, big guy," said Joker, followed by the sound of his mic flicking off.
Shepard stepped through an airlock-styled door at the end of a hallway and motioned for him to follow close behind. A dark rectangle lay on the floor, wires sticking out of it at weird angles. Shepard held up her fist, and he stopped in his tracks.
"Is that what we're looking for?" he asked. Shepard bent down, passing her Omnitool over it and tapping away at her arm. "Maybe we should have brought Tali along… she knows about technology."
"I know about technology, too, Grunt," she said over her shoulder as she fussed with the metal slab's connectors. One by one, wires sparked as they disconnected from the device. "It looks like some of the people here were trying to figure this thing out." Shepard brushed at its surface, etched with designs of some kind. "Here," she said, handing the heavy block to him. "Keep hold of this. Let's get to that field generator. We're going to need to get out of here quick when it goes down, and I don't want to be lugging that around."
Grunt stomped the ground in acknowledgement and tucked it under his arm. A missed shot sparked off the metal flooring in front of them. It wasn't like Garrus to miss.
"What is a geth doing here?" asked the turian, looking up from his scope in surprise. Grunt peered into the distance. The hose-like neck of the geth split apart like the mouth of a Thresher. It pulled back from its own scope too, and ran off somewhere ahead. Studying Shepard for signs of a reaction and seeing nothing, Grunt fell in behind her again. Geth were less fun to tear apart, but still fun.
"I don't know, but it stole your target," Shepard said at last as she broke into a run. "Eyes up, Garrus. It's got a nicer rifle than you." As she ran on ahead, a weird electrical sound came out of her armour as Shepard faded into the background. Light bent around her, and she seemed to vanish before his eyes. He hated it when she did that; it made following behind her a real chore. Some ways off, her crouched figure reappeared behind a metal panel of some kind. "Looks clear from here… but you know how these things usually go. I'm betting it's some kind of ambush."
"Generally when you make a bet there needs to be some chance of it going the other way," Garrus said with a dry laugh.
Despite being millions of years old, the Reaper's mass effect core looked strangely a lot like all the other technology Grunt was familiar with. As his clenched fist sunk into the softened skull of a groaning husk, he wondered at how a machine so old could work so well even after such a long time. Did the scientists clean any of this? Fix any of it? The device suspending the mass effect field looked a lot like a relay, but small.
"I'm stepping through now… Remember, as soon as this thing loses stability, we run," instructed Shepard.
All hell broke loose.
/ / / / / /
"It's your call, Shepard," said Jacob with a restrained sigh. "But I think this thing is bad news. I won't tell you what to do, but I think it's a security risk."
Miranda, however, didn't hold her own sigh back, pacing on the other side of the table like a leopard. "Yes, it is," she conceded. "It is also your decision, Commander. I don't like it."
"It's completely inert. I had a quick look at it in the airlock earlier. Its power supply and main CPU are completely disengaged. The thing's onboard clock isn't even working, let alone anything else," Shepard reasoned. "It'll sit in the AI Core until I decide what to do with it."
Jacob nodded, the set of his jaw relaxing as he looked down at the centre of the table. "If you say it's not a threat, then I believe you."
Looking from him and back to Shepard, Miranda's doubtful look persisted for a few seconds longer. "I maintain that Cerberus would get a lot out of examining it, but if you think it's safe."
"Thank you. Until that IFF is installed, it's business as usual, more or less, and I understand the device is going to take some time to figure out," Shepard declared, pushing away from the table. "In the interest of efficiency, I want you two to devise a two-pronged training exercise for the entire crew. I don't know what we're going to run into on the other side of that relay, but I want us all to be sharp when that time comes."
Miranda tilted her head, intrigued. "What did you have in mind, Commander?"
"I want you to find us some kind of derelict station we can rig up with defense drones. Something to get everybody moving. I'm sure Cerberus has a few of those tucked up their sleeves that will suit our purposes just fine," she said as she folded her arms behind her back. "I want everyone whose boots might touch the ground on the other side to be there, and that includes the both of you," she said.
"It'll be done, Commander," Miranda replied.
"As for the crew remaining up here…" Shepard paused, jutting her jaw in thought. "I want to put the Normandy through her paces. Set up some defenses in an asteroid belt. Something that paints targets with a similar time-to-impact as a Thanix Cannon… With all these improvements we've got over time, I think she's due for a combat-level shakedown."
"This'll take some time to organise, but I'll keep you posted," said Jacob.
"I know you will," she replied with a curt nod.
Neither of them like the idea of activating this geth, she thought to herself as she turned on her heel to leave. Miranda's officiousness had not gone unnoticed by Shepard, and from the way Jacob looked at the woman, it hadn't passed him by, either. At least Jacob acknowledged activating it is my call to make. It's too useful an opportunity to waste, and like hell am I just giving it to Cerberus technicians. She straightened up as she passed by several crewmen in the hall. Doubtless, Garrus was already telling Tali all about it. In fact at some point, Shepard was fairly certain she heard some kind of screech emanating from below her feet - but, maybe it was just her imagination. I suppose I'll have to face the quarian music sooner or later.
The first order of business was some form of pick-me-up. Chattering regulars stood in the corner of the Mess and as Shepard passed by them to attend to her socially acceptable caffeine addiction, the orange glow of her Omnitool caught her eye.
From: Moreau, J
Subj: Should I cycle the airlock codes?
Body: There's a geth onboard? On a scale of 1 to spontaneous suit decompression, how mad is she?
Shepard poured herself a mug full of the steaming black coffee and went to sit down.
To: Moreau, J
Subj: RE: Should I cycle the airlock codes?
Body: I haven't been down there yet. I'm in the Mess, delaying the inevitable. Bringing a peace offering with me, though. Kind of. Sort of. Hopefully it'll work?
Whatever this blend was, it wasn't too bad, this time. It definitely beat the last batch.
From: Moreau, J
[CC: Department Heads]
Subj: Airlock Codes
Body: What's up everyone, new primary airlock code is 0169832, don't tell Tali.
Her quiet chuckle seemed loud in the relatively muted atmosphere of the Mess. The geth couldn't do anything at all, but even so. I wonder how many geth I've personally dispatched? A hundred? Two hundred? More? I'm not worried. The steady vibrations of the ship almost lulled her off to sleep. It had been a long day, punctuated by throwing herself into the open airlock of the ship with explosions and chaos at her heels, as last mouthful was cold, and Shepard took a bleary look at the time - not that time had much meaning these days. There was really only 'off' and 'on,' anything in-between was just a set dressing.
Shepard rifled through her personal locker in search of a small lavender tin. This little ritual was one she hadn't made time for in a while. As she filled a fresh mug with hot water and plopped a tea bag in, she rubbed at the sore muscles connecting her neck to her shoulders. They were tight, and tough as tyres. Maybe more caffeine wouldn't strictly help that, but there was something to be said for a good cup of Earl Grey, anyway. Slight bustling caught her attention. Shift change was soon. Or had it already been? A mouthful of tea worked to assuage her guilt at putting off the conversation with Tali. It wasn't so much a desire to avoid conflict as it was a desire to avoid conflict in the moment.
Maybe twenty minutes passed as Shepard sat at the table with her mug clutched in one hand and occasionally scrolling through e-mails on her Omnitool. The harsh glow was unpleasant to look at for long.
"No wonder you never sleep. What is that, your fourth?"
Shepard grinned upon recognising Joker's voice, a pleasant little flutter settling in her belly. "Only my second," she replied.
His eyes rested on the little tin next to her hand. "Earl Grey, huh? You're always drinking that stuff when you go for tea. You ever try anything different?"
"Rarely. I like it," she said and shrugged. "Once I find something I like… I tend to stick with it, you know."
"Oh yeah…?" He asked as he sat down across from her. "You, ah… tried anything else recently you wanna stick with?"
Shepard tapped on the rim of her mug. "Hmm, you know, I picked up this nice sharp blend I'm quite partial to." She had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to keep from smirking. "Turns out I didn't even know I had it. It just kind of appeared in my cupboard one day next to the beer. I don't know, it could definitely be my new favourite, but I've only had it once so far."
"So why aren't you having it instead of that, then?"
"I would, but it's not really the time or place, here… on the table," she said. "Really delicious, though."
He blinked. He squinted just one eye. "Yeah, we're not talking about tea, are we?"
"Were we ever?" she asked, placing her mug back down. "So. I have a proposition for you."
"Where and when?"
"I haven't explained it yet," she replied, keeping her voice low as she leaned forward on her elbows.
"Uh-huh," he said, and touched the bill of his cap. "You don't need to. Whatever it is, I'm there." he added. "Unless it's a dance party, then you're on your own. Or if you want me to make speeches. Or sit through speeches. Other than that, though… I'm your guy."
In another, more private place, she might have kissed him for being so sweet, but she touched her boot to his in a subtle, deliberate gesture instead. He tapped back. Joker fidgeted with the tea tin and read the label on the back. He was good at looking casual, much better than she was at it for sure, but the soft look in his eyes was still just the same as when he'd lain beside her a few nights before. A sharp, sweet aching filled her chest as she longed to feel him that way again - yet, she only rapped her fingernails on her empty mug.
Flirting with him over tea was all very well and good, but trying to find a moment alone with him to talk about these fireworks deep in her breast was as annoying as ever on a starship. Something was even more challenging about it now. Now, there wasn't even a ghost of plausible deniability. It was no longer a case of a fanciful what if or just a maybe so. Now it was a truth she shared with him, a truth she saw traces of in his easy smile.
"Normandy to Shepard, come in," he said, softer and more sing-song than he'd ever say at the conn. She touched a finger to her nose as she cleared her throat.
"Off in my own little world for a moment. Yes. There are a few things going on right now that need time to prepare, so I thought you might help me with something. That peace offering I mentioned before in the email? I'm thinking about giving out some staggered shore leave…"
"Oh?"
"Garrus says he wants to take Tali to the Fleet and Flotilla set."
He chuckled. "Of course he does. I told him it was a good way to make her blow her helmet apart. You know, in a good way. Not a literal way."
"You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?"
"That depends," he said and grinned. "What's in it for me?"
"Don't be so mercenary," she laughed. "He said it might be difficult to get in there without name-dropping me. So I offered to go along with them, and if they do the pose, I'll take a Holo for them," she said with a wave of her hand. "Or maybe you can do that part, I don't know. Come with me? That way I'll have someone to talk to if he starts licking her helmet or something."
He tried to hide his glee; adjusted the brim of his cap and gave a long look off towards Gardner's counter, but she saw through his little too-cool act. "Eh, If you want? I've seen a little of it," he said, still watching Gardner stir something in a mixing bowl.
"Hmm," Shepard puzzled, "That's a funny way of pronouncing, 'I know every episode back to front.'"
"I don't," he said and crossed his arms. "It's alright, it's not my favourite or anything, though."
"It would be fine if it was, you know," she said, offering him a soft smile.
"Yeah. I know it would be. It isn't, though."
"Methinks the pilot doth protest too much," she said, smiling just a little wider.
"Pfft. Yeah, yeah, alright, Shakespeare. Nothing gets past you," he grumbled. "Can't a guy just like a good story?"
"I'd never have guessed
Your precious, guarded secret
To watch love unfold," she said, and leaned her chin in her hand.
He peered at her through narrowed eyes. "Listen, just because I can't pull poetry out of the air like you can doesn't mean I'm not… kinda romantic, in my own way," he sniffed. "And so what if I am?"
"Yes, exactly… so what if you are?" she echoed. The way his lip pulled to the side in a mildly embarrassed grin, how he kept his arms folded and avoided Shepard's gaze told her a lot - He was playing along with her, sure; but someone, somewhere, somewhen had given him a real rough time about the kinds of things he enjoyed. Looking at him, she was reminded a little of herself, long, long ago. It was strange that a man as accomplished as he was held on to such a silly insecurity, but then again, Joker was full of such hangups when it came to intimacy, and being a pilot on top of it all didn't help. Tempted at first to reach out or move to sit next to him, she restrained herself - making a big fuss about it was the last thing she would have wanted. There'd be another way to reassure him.
"Anything interesting happen since I got back today?" she asked.
"If it did, you'd already know about it," he said. "But, uh… we flew by an ion storm a lightyear wide," he added, the somewhat spiky edge to his tone lessening as he spoke. "I watched the gases interact. Looked a little like… uh… oil in water, kinda?"
"A shame I didn't get to see that," she said. "Ion storms can make for one hell of a lightshow."
"I took a sensor-holo if you wanna see," he said with a shrug. " … Ah, you know, scientists love that kinda stuff. I'm always getting emails from astrometricists and whatever… I'll show you when you're not busy disemboweling whoever needs it the most."
"Tell me about it. My disemboweling arm hurts like hell," she said with a sigh, rolling her stiff shoulders.
"I guess being a straight up monster-murdering machine has its drawbacks. Who knew?" he asked, smirking as he unfolded his arms.
"With all the noise over the geth, I didn't get a chance to see you after I came back," she said. "I missed being up there today."
"Heh. Yeah? Well, 'up there' missed you, too. Didn't think it could ever feel lonely, but…"
"Ah, you just missed having someone get all your old vid references," she said and winked at him.
"Not just that!" he said with an air of mock offense. " … Also old song lyrics. I can't mumble my way through 'em with anyone else. No one else listens to the good stuff."
"It is very good! You know… I got my taste in that from my parents" she said, squinting as she tried to pierce through her mind's cloudy, distant fog to get at old memories. "They both used to listen to a lot of the same stuff you do… there was always music on when I was little. I used to sing along to it."
Joker tilted his head, a look of curiosity settling over his features. "Yeah?" he asked, then paused. "So, uh. I've never asked before. I know they died, but… I sorta didn't wanna make you talk about something you didn't wanna talk about?"
"I don't mind telling you. Well," she began with a sigh. "They never told me what happened to her. I was around ten, I think? She died in what I think was some kind of accident." Shepard cleared her throat and continued on. "Anyway, my dad was a shipwright. On the same day, the containment field on a ship he was working on failed. A section of the hull detached and crushed him. I know what happened to him because I was there… in the office, watching the drydock from the window." A second or two passed in silence. Blinking, he looked across at her, his eyebrows raised. Shepard played with the fabric of her sleeve, and gave him her best good-natured smile as she added, "Well. It was a long time ago, now. Ask a sad question, get a sad answer."
"Yeah… I don't know what I expected."
Shepard shrugged. "It is what it is. The memories I have of them now are few and far between. I remember a yellow kitchen with pine trees outside, sunlight through big houseplants… but most of all, that old music…" Warmth filled her chest as their eyes met. "It's so nice having a reason to enjoy it again."
"You don't need a reason to enjoy good music, Shepard," he said with an incredulous grin.
"No… that's true. But I needed one to enjoy that music again. There was a time where just hearing the opening few bars of Tiny Dancer would have me in punches."
"In… punches? Not in tears?"
"Not back then."
Joker looked down at the table. "Anything in particular I should avoid? Punches or tears are actually really bad for the equipment up there."
She shook her head and smiled. "Mmm, no. I look forward to the next time I can lean on your chair and listen to something with you. I think it's about time for some new memories… don't you?" She dropped a fresh tea bag into her empty mug. "Time for my fifth, I think."
"Ah, see, I knew it," he said with a grin.
Shepard faced the counter and poured herself some fresh hot water. When she turned back around, blowing steam from her mug, she sat down next to him. He looked to either side of the Mess, and seemed satisfied with seeing only Gardner wiping down the oven top. Joker's warm hand slid down her forearm and entwined his fingers with hers. The soreness in her shoulders melted away. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment properly and commit the details to memory. The dull rumble of the engine, soft hiss of the air exchangers, the gentle heat and pressure of his shoulder. At the sound of the elevator doors parting open, he unwound himself from her. She took a mouthful of hot tea as if nothing had happened.
"What do you think I should do with the geth?" she asked quietly.
"I hear the airlock is lovely this time of year," he snorted. "If I was you, I'd have done it already. Which… you know, why haven't you?"
"It could have shot me, but it didn't… and I don't suppose you noticed what's on its arm?"
"Yeah, I think VernerAfterburner probably has some stiff competition for president of the Shepard fanclub… I dunno. Maybe you should turn it on. Offer it your autograph or something." He shrugged. "After all… you won't be stood in a room with it. It'll be stood in a room with you." He grinned. "Just do me a favour, make sure I'm not nearby when you flick its lightswitch, okay? I'm happy with the number of holes my body currently has."
"Hold on, let me jot that down in my Omnitool…" she said and lifted her arm, pretending to type. "Make sure Joker is right next to me when I turn on the Terminator for the first time… got it," she said and nudged his shoulder. "Alright, next piece of advice I need from you. Real life or death stuff, here, so pay attention." Shepard stirred her tea. "I'm not going to get much out of going to this show set with you three unless I do a little homework… Am I better off watching the vid, or the first episode of the series?"
The way he brightened up made her heart sing.
"Ah, well, if you haven't seen any of it before, I'd probably say episode four in season three is a good place to start. Like, to jump in, I guess. Sorta a weird number I know, you might think the actual beginning would be better to start from, but the first season's a little rough and I wouldn't say it's representative… The start of the third season might be confusing for you… Lotta the previous seasons' arcs are all finished by the fourth episode though. It starts going in a new direction then, and if you like it, you can always go back and… what? What're you grinning like that for?"
Shepard shook her head as she leaned on her elbows. "Nothing. I'm listening."