Joker woke up slowly, his eyelids desperately tried to stay closed, but something was pulling him out of the dream. At first he noticed that he wasn't on his bunk in the dorm. Yes, right. Jo's cabin, double bed, soft and comfortable. So who was crying, then?

The soft, whimpering noise finally woke him up completely. The fish tank was illuminating the room instead of environmental lights. Who could possibly be weeping like this in Commander Shepard's room?

Then suddenly a skull-splitting scream pierced his ears and made him sit up straight. A primal, horror-filled female scream.

Joker slowly looked to his left and couldn't believe his own sleepy brain when he realised it was Jo screaming in her sleep. She lay on her back, sweat rolled down her skin like water in the shower. She was trembling as if she was having a seizure. Her eyes were shut, tears streaming from the corners, and she managed to scream despite the prop that Chakwas put on her broken jaw, a prop almost exactly like Garrus'. And she did not scream like a typical girl.

He'd seen her like this on the night she got drunk on the Citadel. Back then he wasn't in bed with her, however.

She began thrashing around. He'd have expected her to throw punches, after all she was a fighter. Instead it looked like she was fending off some nightmare like it was a bat flying around her head.

"Jo, wake up," he said as he caught one of her hands. He remembered how difficult it had been for Garrus to wake her up back then, how the turian eventually had to punch her in the face. Well, Joker was not going to punch the woman he loved. Especially not after she'd had her jaw broken earlier. "Love, wake up," he caught her other hand and leaned in to touch her face. She whimpered at his touch, the scream stopped and more tears started flowing.

This is when she needs you, man, he thought to himself. Your woman needs your comfort and only last night you vowed to provide it whenever she'd need it.

"Love, I'm afraid it isn't just a dream, something tells me you've actually been there and seen what you see now, but I'm here and I need you to wake up." He kept talking at her gently, caressing her face, hands and arms until eventually she opened her eyes. For a second she looked confused, then 'the Commander' returned to her face. She snapped her mouth shut, looked at him to assess the situation and cursed. The weeping, horror-ridden woman was gone. Shepard was back.

"Fuck," was her assessment.

"Does that happen often?" He asked.

"Almost every time I fall asleep."

"Just how much sleep were you getting all this time, exactly?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Tell me."

"A couple of hours every week."

"There are a lot of sleeping pills around here," he pointed at the room. "None of them help?"

"No," she sat up, put her feet on the floor and raked her fingers through her messy hair. "The only thing that's ever helped… is you. Your voice. Or do you think I've hacked your earpiece for the pleasure of hacking?"

"Fuck," he exhaled and reached out to touch her back. "I didn't know. Sorry that I killed the link."

"Well, you're here now, and you just got me out of there. How long was I screaming?"

"Just a few seconds, but you were crying before that."

"Yeah, see, an improvement right there. It usually takes me so long to snap out of it that my throat gets raw." She smiled at him over her shoulder before lying back on her pillow. Still, that smile seemed a bit sad to him.

"What are you dreaming about?"

"Darkness. Sticky darkness, like tar. Pain. Torture. Screams."

"Whose screams?"

"I… I think they're my own."

"Are you being tortured in your dream?"

"It's… it's very hard to explain what I see exactly. Maybe one day I'll find the right words. Right now I'm just grateful that you woke me."

"You can count on me, girl. Now, you shouldn't be talking, your jaw is broken."

"Actually, I don't think it is, anymore. It can heal the rest of the way without the bandages."

"And your shoulder?"

"Almost healed."

"All hail Cerberus implants?" He said cautiously.

"Cheers," she sounded sarcastic. "Let's sleep."

"Just like that? You just swallow whatever happens, put on your game face in the morning and go out there to inspire people, command the ship and do everyone and their uncle a favour?"

"Been doing it all my life."

"Fuck. Jo, tell me one thing. Have you ever really done something for yourself, just because you wanted to?"

"Yeah. You're here, aren't you? Worked my ass off for that."

"Yes, but before? For thirty years before last night?"

"What is this, a shrink appointment at three a.m.? Because Jeff, I'm trained to withstand all kinds of psychological warfare."

"I'm not working against you, Jo."

"I know. I'm sorry, you just ask really difficult questions."

He was, he realised. Why was he asking anyway, when he already knew? Back when she was dead, he'd hacked her Alliance files and reports. He'd found that she wasn't spending almost any of her money from the day she'd joined the military. She'd dedicated her life to duty without a thought to herself. She expected enemies everywhere and opened up only to a few carefully selected friends. Of course she slapped on a smile every day, no matter how horrible her night had been, he should never have asked her that. This was Commander Shepard in a nutshell.

"Tell you what. We have some time now and I'm going to find out what you like."

"What I like?"

"Yeah. Your favourite food, music, vids, colours, whatever. You deserve to have things that you like, not just bare necessities of survival."

She looked at him for a while as if the concept didn't even compute for her. Then she turned to her side and offered him her back to spoon against. He complied and wrapped his arm around her belly.

"You're all I ever wanted," she said quietly.

His alarm woke him at the usual time, but Jo whispered to him to ignore it. A while later her alarm sounded and they ignored it, too. For once they could sleep in together. It felt so good that he hummed, pressing her warm body against him. Her butt cheeks rubbed innocently against his morning wood, making him gasp in sweet pain. Geez, if this was what his life was going to be like from now on – the hottest woman in the world in bed with him, letting him fondle her breasts instead of a morning workout – he was a goner. Or maybe he could persuade her to have another kind of morning workout with him…

She hissed a little. So, the jaw and the shoulder weren't quite as healed as she made it sound in the night?

"Mo'nin'," he pressed his lips against her neck. "Did you sleep okay the rest of the night?" When she said nothing, he cursed. "You didn't sleep at all anymore, right?"

"You're magical, Jeff, but I have a long way to go before I'm back to being a normal person. I had almost four hours of sleep tonight, it's better than usual."

"So, what's our plan for today?"

"Once we cleaned up the broken glass around here, I'll make space for your things. I'd like you to move here with me."

His head jerked up.

"But… everyone would realise what's going on!"

"Obviously."

"You'd want the crew to know?" He couldn't help sounding shocked. He hadn't thought so far ahead in this relationship. He'd thought a lot further, beyond the Reaper war even, but not about this.

"Jeff, you will not be my dirty little secret," she said firmly. "If you're not ready to tell other people, I'll understand. But sneaking around and lying will never be my choice of action. I don't know about you, but I'm proud of having you in my life."

"And what are they going to say? We're breaking all fraternisation rules here, and they'll probably be resentful."

"You're the one to talk about rules. We're not in the military. In fact, I quit the Alliance just for this very reason. And since we came to the SR2 I've never stopped any informal relationships among the crew, either. One of the techies is pregnant. Did you see Gabby and Ken yesterday? Kasumi is trying to seduce Jacob and I think Jack and Zaeed had a little tumble between the sheets. Samara and Mordin are flirting like there is no tomorrow. Hadley's hot for Goldstein. And most importantly: Garrus and Tali are in love. Terribly, awkwardly, painfully in love. But don't ever mention that to either of them or I will kill you. They don't even realise that what they feel is love, and I'm not interfering. They're both too socially awkward to do anything about it now. So you see, the whole ship is entangled in some form of informal relationships and I'm not going to forbid anyone things I do and feel myself."

Joker listened to the whole thing, but he'd only heard one phrase.

"You resigned from the Alliance for me?"

"Pretty much."

"You killed your career for me?!" He propped himself on his hand, looming over her. A sudden wave of panic hit him. All the times he'd imagined her as an Admiral, commanding armies with one word – she'd given it up for him? She'd sacrificed everything she could have been, was destined to be, needed to be – for him? He was the reason she was never going to be anything more than Lieutenant Commander? No. No, he couldn't be responsible for that. He couldn't take that kind of sacrifice, not from the woman who was meant to be at the top of the world.

"No," she shook her head, but he didn't listen to her.

"Oh my god, you sacrificed your whole future for me, why the hell did you do that?" He climbed off the bed and started pacing the room erratically. "You should have been an Admiral, you could have commanded armies, you could lead us all in this coming war, and you gave it all up for me? How could you do that to yourself and to me? You stupid woman! I never pegged you for the type to give up everything for a man. Damn, the single greatest thing I love about you is that you'd never be one of those compliant, subdued, subordinate women! Damn it, how could you?"

Jo watched him for a moment or two. When it became clear that his panic wasn't going to subside, she laboured herself off the bed, grabbed the front of his shirt and almost violently shoved him against the fish tank.

"Flight Lieutenant Moreau, stop babbling and listen to me!" She snapped at him in her commanding voice. It worked. He stopped talking and looked at her, for real this time. "I didn't kill my career for you. I left the organisation that I couldn't keep supporting with a clear conscience, and by doing so I also freed my way to be with you without the fraternisation rules forcing us apart."

He surprised her when he grabbed her arms and turned, throwing her against the illuminated glass. Her shoulder screamed in pain again, but Joker was in her face now, his green eyes shooting lightning bolts at her.

"You had everything ahead of you. You could have been anyone, could have been at the top of the world. And now you gave it all up, like some medieval housewife, for a man? I expected better from you. I needed better from you, damn it! I needed you independent, righteous, free. And now look what you've done!"

She let him press her into the fish tank. If he needed to vent, she'd let him.

"And who am I?"

"You're the saviour of the galaxy. As an Admiral you could have been up there with the greatest leaders!"

"If I were an Admiral in the Alliance, I would have been forced to represent humanity only. Come on, Joker, you're the smartest person I know. Don't you see that I couldn't keep doing what I do in the name of the Alliance, that corrupt and rotten organisation, or in the name of humanity, when my end goal is to unite all the races! I've also found out a few things about the Alliance that put a definite end to that relationship, and it had nothing to do with you. Besides, there are far greater things than an Alliance Admiral. The real top is a lot higher than that, my lover. That's where I'm headed, so I left behind whatever was holding me back."

He stepped back and scrutinised her carefully.

"Promise me you'll never sacrifice your career for me. I couldn't live with myself if I knew you did that."

Jo stepped away from the fish tank and assumed the Commander posture.

"I promise that I'll never be a medieval housewife. I promise to make my career choices over your head and to always to stay your commanding officer."

"Thank you."

"Now tell me, why did I have to promise all these things?" She truly hadn't expected him to go berserk on her like that. But he simply shrugged:

"What's the point in being with the strongest woman in the galaxy if she isn't at the top of the food chain?"

"Uhuh," she didn't know how to take that, or if she even believed him. He made it simpler for her:

"In other words: there is nothing hotter in the morning than saluting the woman you've been stupping all night."

Jo laughed out loud:

"Now that I do believe. So, are you moving in here with me or not? I can make it an order, if you want."

"Would you wear a black mask and stilettos and crack a whip when you issue that order?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"If that's what rocks your boat – yes."

"Nice."

"Does it? Rock your boat?"

"What do you think?"

She tugged him to the bed and they fell back between the warm sheets.

"Did we just survive our first fight?" She exhaled deeply. He looked at his omnitool:

"Took us less than forty hours to get into one."

"I never knew you were so passionate about my career."

"You're a wild thing, Jo. The worst thing to ever happen to you is domestication."

Jo didn't know what to say to that. She wanted to ask him how he saw himself in that equation. She wanted to say that this was an unusual way for a man to see a woman. And that she loved him even more for it.

She hesitated because the moment didn't really need words. And the next second he was on top of her again, pulling her sleeping tank top off her.

"Damn," he said, running his hands over her naked upper body with reverence. "I wish this wasn't a quote."

"What?"

"I'm staring at a goddess. She's telling me she wants me. I'm not gonna waste one more second wondering how I've gotten so lucky. She smells like angels ought to smell. The perfect woman. The goddess."

"Goldie," Jo whispered through a sudden knot in her throat. "Call me Goldie."

"You know that one?"

"I've been watching a lot of vids and reading a lot of books lately. Come over here," she tugged at his shirt to get him closer but he gently took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles:

"Don't be ridiculous, Jo. You've got a dislocated shoulder, your jaw is shattered and you're bruised all over after the suicide mission. You need to rest."
"Joker, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard from you. Come here," she tugged at his shirt again. Once again he stopped her hands. That got her curious. He wasn't worried about the leg braces he'd been wearing the other night, but he didn't want to take off his shirt? What kind of demons was she fighting against now?

He took control by running his hands over her exposed body.

"That day when you and Kasumi went to Hock's party, you wore a very short dress."

"Yes?"

"I didn't notice these scars on your legs then. How come?"

"Lots and lots of concealer. Kasumi brought me a whole bottle."

"I see. I just don't see one thing."

"What is that?"

"Where are your tattoos? On your back? Maybe on your butt? Come on, turn over, show me."

She obediently rose to show him her back: white, smooth skin without a single blemish of ink.

"I've got no tattoos," she said before falling back onto the pillow.

"But you're a marine! All of you guys end up with tattoos sooner or later. Not even a little prideful N7 tat anywhere? Really?"

"I actually had an N1 sign tattooed on me, but I had it removed."

"Where was it? And why remove?"

"Right here," she put her finger on her left breast, where a chest pocket of a male military uniform would usually be. Maybe an inch above her perky nipple. "I had to have it removed for N3."

"Can you tell me about it? Or is it the type of thing when you have to kill me if you tell me?"

"I can only give you an outline. N3 was my first specialisation course. I went for civilian infiltration."

"The what? And the what?"

"Oh, boy," Jo laughed, and they made themselves comfortable under a blanket. "You may have noticed that the N program doesn't only train soldiers. That is, N1 and N2 actually do train the recruits in combat. After that you can choose a specialisation. Among other things there is the intelligence branch, where you definitely would have been invited, if you could handle the N1 and N2. I went with civilian infiltration. It means they made me a perfect spy, Joker. A spy in political and corporate environment, not a military spy. I couldn't parade around a reception in a skimpy dress flashing my allegiance with the N school, now could I? So I had the tattoo removed and never got any others."

Joker's head was busting with questions all of a sudden.

"You said it was your first specialisation? What are others? What other branches are there? D'you really think I would have made it into that program if my bones were strong enough? They taught you to parade around in a skimpy dress? Are you like James Bond with boobs?"

"Hold your horses, I can't answer most of that, it's classified. I do think you would have flourished as a hacker at the villa, but it's not about your bones. To get a chance to choose your specialisation you have to prove first that you are tough enough to enter the program and survive the first two levels. And they are too much to handle for 90% of… everyone."

"Survive them? Some people didn't survive?!"

"Of course. Fatality is an acceptable outcome of the training there. They invite, they never force anyone. But if you enter, you submit to one rule: do or die."

"Phew. Tough."

"That's kind of the definition of the N school, lover."

"Ok, you can't tell me everything, but you did tell me once that you had to sleep with a target to advance in your courses. Tell me about that."

"That is definitely classified. All I can say is that it was necessary to get from N3 to N4."

"And what does N4 include?"

"Oh, stick around long enough and one day…"

"…you might just tell me," he laughed. "I heard that before."

"Your turn. I definitely saw a few tattoos on your chest the other night. Come on, show me."

Joker had really hoped she wouldn't force the issue so soon. He'd kept his shirt on as long as he could, but now her insistent hands tugged it off his torso.

Jo was curious about his obvious unwillingness to show her his skin. Was this really about those tattoos she'd seen on his chest? She didn't mind if he had the name of some ex-girlfriend tattooed over his heart, but his reluctance intrigued her.

He had the SR1 Normandy tattooed on his right shoulder, complete with blue flashing thrusters. Directly beneath his collar bones there were two wings, majestic, with rich feathers, spread for flight. And right above his heart…

Jo suddenly heaved, headache slammed against her temples and her insides turned to stone.

Right over his heart there was a broken N7 badge. Not the emblem of the school, but an actual piece of her armour, depicted over the background of a beautiful nebula. Pieces were breaking off that badge and being sucked to the left under his pectoral muscle, where they dissolved, faded to a lighter shade and vanished.

Jo looked at that starry nebula over his sternum, at that badge perpetually breaking apart and being sucked into the void on his skin, and she felt exactly like when she realised she was being spaced. Just like she felt when she stood on Alchera amidst the Normandy's ruins. Like she felt when she looked out of the window into the empty void. Sick. The tattoo threw her back to that day and the longer she looked, the harder it was to keep her nerves and the contents of her stomach down.

She slapped her hand on his chest and the other over her eyes to get the picture out of her immediate line of sight. She took a few deep breaths. He said nothing.

"Why?..." She croaked. Her voice betrayed her.

"So that I never forget what I did."

She kept her eyes closed and shielded. She couldn't risk looking at the tattoo again and being sucked back into the vortex of nothingness, of death. It brought up all the memories of tonight's nightmare she tried to suppress, it drove home that her grip on life was but a feeble thing, that she was a dead woman walking, that the warm and soothing darkness beyond the veil was where she truly belonged and it wanted her, called for her.

Only she didn't want to go back there anymore. Not now. She'd found love in the arms of a man and she wanted to stay with him.

"I don't want to get into a deep discussion of what you think you may or may not have done that day, Jeff, but I do have one very practical request. I'll beg, if you want. Please, please have this one removed. It literally makes me sick in the stomach."

"I know. It makes me feel the same. That's the whole point."

"Did you spend the two years staring at it, thinking you killed me?"

She kept her eyes closed as they spoke.

"I did kill you."

"You didn't kill me. You acted like a hero, giving everyone time to evacuate, and you were willing to die for us. It's not your fault that I got spaced. How could it possibly be your fault?"

"Maybe logically you're right, but I couldn't help the way I felt in those two years. I lost the most important person in the whole world that day."

"But I'm back. And that tattoo is morbid."

"That's how I felt when I had it done," he sounded strained, but then she felt his warm hand on her face. "I'll have it removed if it disturbs you so much, of course."

"Thank you. It just reminds me of things I don't want to remember." The silence between them was too heavy to enjoy, so Jo tried to lighten up the conversation: "Any other tattoos?"

"Yeah, just one more. You can look, it's safe," he chuckled and she heard him move on the bed. When she opened her eyes, he lay on his stomach, showing her his back. The tattoo was nothing more than a simple black one-inch-wide vertical bar running almost the entire length of his spine.

"What's that?"

"My iron core."

She didn't need to ask any more questions about that. She could very well imagine.

"And the wings? Why are they on your chest and not on your back?"

"They're not a symbol of my flying. Such a symbol would be better on the back, as you suggest. Those wings are the image of a goal, whatever goal I may have, and me achieving that goal. I looked at them in the mirror every morning through flight school, through everything that's happened afterwards. They helped me become the best pilot in the galaxy and overcome many things. They lift me up. Not above ground, though. Above…"

"What?"

"Opinions."

There was nothing she could say to that. She understood completely and was touched more than a little.

"So," he said against the pillow. "We have a big problem."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We're stuck on this ship for two weeks without any tattoo parlours in sight and you can't look at me without barfing. What are we going to do?"

"You mean about this?" She playfully slid her hand beneath him to feel his semi-hard shaft. "We get creative. EDI, turn off the day lights."

The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the lights from the fish tank on and Jo took off her remaining sleeping clothes. She helped him out of his boxers and proceeded to show him that her magic hands could get him stone hard within seconds. Then she came up again to spoon against him, lifted one knee and guided him inside her slick and hot entrance from behind. He groaned helplessly against the back of her neck, the scent of her shampoo clouding his brain. Why hadn't he thought of this position that one time fifteen years ago? So many things could have been different. Only right now he didn't want anything to be different. His face was buried in the fragrant cascade of pale gold that was always outside of other men's reach, his dick was buried balls-deep in a slick, hot, pulsing-tight pussy and his arms were full of sweaty, warm woman who loved him, wanted him, and wasn't doing this for money. He wished he could tell her how much she meant to him, but words failed him completely. This angel and demon in one package, this goddess, this pleading look in her grey-brown eyes killed him surer than any of her bullets could. Killed him with kindness. He was falling. Into the depth of those eyes, into the warmth of her body, and deeper, deeper in love.

Jo and Joker were holding hands when they took the elevator down to the mess hall. Most of the crew sat at the tables with their lazy, late breakfast. Heads turned towards them, when they appeared. Glances travelled down to their joined hands, conversations stopped, eyebrows rose.

"Good morning, everyone," Jo announced firmly, but friendly. "For a couple of days now Joker and I have been in a romantic relationship, and therefore we're sharing quarters." She let her glance wander over the faces. "Does anyone wish to comment?"

"Hell, yes," Garrus said. "Congratulations!"

"Congratulations!" Tali echoed him. "You both look so happy."

The murmurs of encouragement from the others seemed less enthusiastic. Most of them stared at the couple, unbelieving, sceptical or simply confused. Jack spelled it out for everyone:

"How the fuck did that happen? The Creepy and the Grumpy," she pointed at Jo and Joker respectively. "Together? How does that even work?"

Jo paused. There weren't many situations in her life anymore when she didn't know what to say. To gain some time to think she tugged Joker to the two empty seats, thus placing the two of them inside this circle of confused people. It was a simple tactic of showing that they were all one team, not facing off against each other, and it worked like a charm. As the crew rearranged themselves around the table to look at them, they were more curious than bewildered now.

"What is it that confuses you so, Jack?" Jo asked. This was a negotiation they had to deal with as a couple this one time before the whole ship's dynamic would change forever and true acceptance would settle in. Up until now there hadn't been any official couples here and everyone at least pretended to be professional. The Normandy would never be the same again after the Commander and one of the crew declared they were in a relationship.

"Fuck… How is it even supposed to work? Wouldn't you break both of his legs or something?"

"I haven't so far, it stands to reason I won't in the future."

"Erm…" The realisation of what Jo had just said ran across Jack's face as well as the others, and all of them seemed to be adjusting their universe to the image of Commander Fucking Shepard having sex with Joker. "But… But…"

"What about professionalism?" Jacob helped Jack out there.

"Right, professionalism," Jo nodded. "I think we all agree that some ground rules should be established, so let's do it right here and now. I personally don't care about anyone on my ship being in a relationship, as long as it doesn't affect our jobs. For my own part I can promise that the day anyone catches me and Jeff doing anything inappropriate together during working hours will be the day I resign as the CO of this ship. I expect nothing less from the rest of you, too. Outside working hours, though, all bets are off."

"So you're saying that you don't mind people fucking all around the ship?" Zaeed asked. As Jo looked at him, she saw a strange twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her and Joker. Like he knew something even she didn't.

"As long it doesn't affect your duties – I couldn't care less."

"As love can be selfish and distracting," Samara said. "It can also give strength and resolve needed to deal with extreme situations. And you, as Commander Shepard, are constantly facing impossible odds. I think it's only right for you to pursue whatever happiness you can find."

"But why him, Shepard?" Grunt finally spoke up. "The cripple? He is weak and unworthy of you."

"I'd be choosing the next words carefully if I were you," Joker finally spoke up. He'd been facing this interrogation silently until now, but he would never stand for anyone diminishing his qualities, even if it was a gigantic, unbalanced krogan teenager. "I'm the one who's flown the Normandy years before you were even born, I've saved the ship, the crew and the Commander more times than you can count in that peanut-sized brain of yours while you were still a peanut in your tank. I've flown us to and out of the Reaper land with 2.63 seconds left until the explosion just yesterday. There is no Normandy without me. No offence, Hadley. Grunt, you'd personally be dead half a dozen times over if it weren't for me, while your only skill seems to be talking too much. You're not even a very strong krogan compared to your predecessor, so you definitely aren't the one to talk about weakness or unworthiness of anyone. So here I am, brittle bones and all. Look me in the eye and dare to repeat what you just said."

Jo's heart was racing in her chest. Joker had clearly taken a page out of her book when it came to dealing with her krogan baby. She'd established her dominance in their mother-child relationship a long time ago, and he needed to step in to take his place on her level in this equation. That meant subduing Grunt to his willpower. And as with all creatures driven by animal instinct it could only be done by winning a staring contest.

The whole crew didn't dare to move while the two males stared at each other across the table. Jo had trouble breathing. Joker wasn't one for direct power play. Usually it was her department. The next minute showed her that, one, he was determined to do anything for her, no matter how dangerous or uncharacteristic, and two, he had a dark, dangerous side to him as well. She hadn't known about that before she'd died, but she suspected that it was a new addition, acquired during the months he believed her dead. The tattoo on his chest was hard proof of the darkness plaguing him. All the times he yelled at her or violently pushed her against walls since she came back were proof that he now had this dark, confrontational, reckless and violent side to him. In this stare-down between him and Grunt Jo felt the one thing from Joker that took many recruits at the N school too much time to learn. The undertone to his voice and expression that told his opponent: I will have my way or die, because you can kill my body but you will never be able to break my will.

She doubted Joker was dong it consciously, but that was the same attitude with which he'd grabbed and owned her on the night before the mission. He made her his with the same determination with which he was about to make Grunt his bitch. That attitude didn't simply make her hot for him. More than that, it resonated with a deep part of her own personality.

Grunt suddenly leaned over the table and sniffed at his human opponent. With a dismissive shake of his head he declared:

"You smell like her. If she thinks you're worthy, it's her problem."

He left then, stomped away to return to the cargo bay, but everyone knew who'd won that round. Joker righted his hat and looked around.

"Anyone else has got anything to say?"

Thane was smiling gently in his enigmatic way. Chakwas bit her lip trying not to. Garrus looked down at his hands, shaking his head a little and stealing glances at Tali. It was Donnelly who broke the silence:

"So, does that mean you'll be vacating your bunk in the dorm?"

"Suppose so, yeah."

"Mind if I take it?" Gabby feigned innocence. "I'm tired of leaping up and down from my bed."

"And it makes no never mind to you that it's right next to Donnelly's?" Joker poked and both Gabby and Ken started blushing. The tense moment broke when everyone started teasing each other about changing the sleeping arrangements in the dorm to everyone's liking, speculating about more couples that could go public now that the Commander declared it an official possibility. Jo leaned over to whisper in her lover's ear:

"You're responsible for what you've tamed. He is now your krogan baby, too, I hope you realise that."

Joker only rolled his eyes with a groan, but she could tell he was kind of proud of himself.