AN: Happy holidays, everyone! Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm taking a little holiday from writing, too, so no new chapters will appear until mid-January, maybe even a bit later. Have a great time until then and enjoy this chapter, I know you want to!
Things changed for Joker with Anderson's new orders. He'd been assigned a car for his own use and allowed free access to the HQ building. He still only had 10 hours with Jo, but at least he could get over there quickly in case of another attack.
Obviously he told his guards that he'd fly the car personally and promptly delegated them both to his personal assistants and door-openers. Both young women, intimidated and in awe of him, didn't have enough steel in them to withstand him. He'd tolerated their overbearing presence for two weeks but he was his own man, hated company and was not going to tolerate surveillance for long, he made his guards understand that very quickly. He didn't care if they complained about his behaviour to the Command. There was only one person in the world, whose command he'd ever accepted fully and willingly. Coincidentally, that person was also the woman he was dreaming about naked most of all.
With his access to Jo's audio he could time his visits to her with better accuracy. First thing he did, though, when he sat down at his new computer, was check his messages. Unsurprisingly, there were several from his family. His mother sounded almost frantic in her first message, dated about the day the news about Aratoht hit the official channels. Her second message was stoic and she said she understood that he had to do what he had to do when he'd surrendered along with Jo, she just wished he didn't have to. To his surprise, his mother added that she was proud of him for doing the right thing and that she believed he and Jo had done what they had to do at Bahak in order to save more lives. Also, she said that she was proud of Jo for her integrity and commitment. As far as Joker knew, this was the first time his mother had expressed so much interest in the political implications of his work.
His father had also sent a message on the day the Normandy crew had surrendered to the Alliance. The two of them hadn't exactly been close in the last decade, but Joker always felt that there was more understanding coming from his father towards his life's passion than from his mother. His father knew exactly what it felt like to give up the life he really loved and do something else, so he never questioned Joker's passion for flying and his pursuit of that passion. He'd been even more understanding since he returned to Tiptree to his farm and found his own happiness again.
In his message his father sounded as solemn as his mother, telling him that he and Gunny had learned from Silvia about Joker's relationship with Jo, gave him his blessing in a few words and told him how proud he was of him. Joker's chest tightened when the message ended. Neither of his parents even entertained the idea that he and Jo were some sort of terrorists, like many vids claimed.
Hilary's message was what truly got to him. He barely knew his sister, he hadn't been around when she was growing up, but the young woman looking at him from the screen had a remarkable depth and strength in her eyes. She stared at the camera in silence for a while, obviously unsure how to address the brother she barely knew.
"Many people say you and Commander Shepard are terrorists," she spoke with iron in her voice that reminded him of both his parents at once, and yet showed a side of her that was pure Hilary. "I tell them they're idiots who don't know anything. It's not like I know much, mind you, but I understand, Jeff. You can't tell us about your work. And you're flying across the galaxy, spending time in blind regions in the Terminus Systems. I know communication in those systems is bad and you have to keep silent. I know you have enemies. But what you do is important, I know that, too. If there is one thing I know, it's that my brother is a hero. I don't care what the vids say."
She nodded with such belief in her own words that Joker had to swallow a lump in his throat. The girl on the screen was growing up, becoming an adult, beginning to understand the way the world worked. They could have a serious adult conversation now. Joker had no idea when that had happened, but the realisation hit him straight in the heart: he not only had a faceless baby sibling somewhere out there, he had a sister who cared about him. And he cared about her so very much!..
"Mum said that you and Commander Shepard are a couple now, and that she likes to be called Jo. I know she didn't really give me personal permission to do that, but I'd like to think she would have, if we'd been introduced. She's pretty. I totally approve," she grinned. "So, big brother. Keep doing what you have to, finish that Reaper problem and come home. There is no other way. I decided, after school I'll be enrolling into the Academy, too. I'm going to be a pilot, just like you. We're Moreaus, we don't do things halfway. See you soon." She saluted like a real officer before ending the recording. Joker sat there for half an hour trying not to cry.
There were several hundred other messages left for him, for Jo, for other crew members, on all the accounts he had access to. Many were from the crew members who hadn't been with them at Bahak, but hundreds more came from other people. Joker knew some of them, like Captain Bailey, General Oraka, Gianna Parasini, Emily Wong, Kal'Reegar, and others. Most of them he didn't know. Some seemed to be fans expressing their encouragement, others – enemies, sending threats and venting their anger. The most surprising message came from a little girl. She couldn't be more than eight years old, was black haired, with big brown eyes and a faint white scar right above her left eyebrow.
"Hello, Miss Johanna," she spoke to the camera. "You wouldn't recognise me, but mummy says you'll definitely remember me. My name is Belinda Johanna Wells, born 2177 on the battlefield of Rodan, the lost colony on a planet I'm not supposed to know the name of. Mummy says you'll remember this scar," the girl pointed at her eyebrow. "She named me after you because you saved my life and hers. We live on Ontarom now and we're doing well. Mummy always showed me vids about you. I know that you're who she says you are, and not what bad people say. Thank you for what you've done for us, and good luck."
Joker did the math. The girl really was eight years old, and if she was born on a battlefield of some lost colony on a classified planet, Jo had probably been there on a mission and helped Belinda's mother give birth. Like previously stated: on a battlefield. That sounded just like one of Jo's missions. For a woman to name her daughter after Jo there had to be some serious life saving involved.
Joker saved the message, knowing Jo would want to see it some day. Then he had a choice. Call his parents or go see Jo. Jo won. Obviously, he couldn't tell his guards that he knew for a fact that she wasn't doing anything all day. He found that his usual gruffness, biting sarcasm and barely hidden insults worked magic on people. They left him alone and preferred to keep their own chatter around him to a minimum. He realised that it must be difficult for them because those two chatterboxes never shut up whenever he wasn't in direct vicinity.
Vega was sitting on Jo's couch, watching her with raised eyebrows, when Joker arrived. Jo was upside down, balancing her whole body on one hand, her feet in the air, her second hand on the small of her back. Joker stopped to watch. She kept her stance so still that he wondered if she was asleep.
"Whatcha doing?" He asked. She rolled over gently and landed on her feet.
"Working on my balance," she said, coming to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He pressed her hard against him and pushed his fingers into her hair, bringing her head to a position he liked. He saw such hunger and longing in her eyes that he couldn't hold back any longer. They melted into each other, kissing like it was their last day alive.
They were both completely out of breath when Jo put her hands on his pecs and pushed him away just a little bit.
"Stripper, either you get out of here right now or I'll beat you bloody and make you leave," she declared without taking her eyes off Joker. There was a small, uncomfortable silence from the couch, then Vega quietly got up and left.
"You're so mine now," Joker whispered, bringing his woman back against him. His knees were shaking with the need to be inside her again.
"Come," she tugged him after her. Joker realised that the room they were in was on a different level than the one she used to have before the attack, but it looked exactly the same, and the bathroom was in the exact same spot. That was where she was taking him. "No cameras in here," she explained, leaning back against the counter next to the basin. He just stood there and looked at her for a moment, once again stunned by her beauty.
"I want to do so many bad things with you, I can't even decide," he confessed.
"It is my greatest pleasure to make life easier for you, so I'll decide today." Jo said. He could see the devil taking over her eyes.
With that she sank to her knees. She'd done that before, many times, but the sight still did him in. Johanna Shepard on her knees before him, carefully undoing his fly, looking at what she was revealing with such hunger and love that he still couldn't believe this was real. He almost dropped to the floor next to her.
"Allow me," she whispered, pushing his pants and boxers over his leg braces and down to his ankles. He watched her with his head spinning, as she paused to look at his wood-hard erection, red and swollen, desperate for her, leaking pre-cum just from being near her. Jo looked up at his face for a moment and then kind of sobbed before wrapping her arms around his hips and burying her face in his crotch, just nuzzling against his shaft, inhaling his scent. That move sent a wave of incredible warmth through his heart. She loved him. He had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve that kind of love, or how he could ever repay her for it, but it was real, so real...
After several moments of simply holding on to him Jo moved back a little. Her eyelids were at half-mast when she moved in and started doing unimaginable things to him. She'd done this before, of course, but never quite like this. She used her hands, tongue, lips and nose to find the most sensitive spots on his body, driving the last coherent thought out of his mind, giving him the most delectable sensation.
He'd erroneously assumed that he knew his own dick pretty well, but Jo showed him in that bathroom just how wrong he'd been about that. She used dirty tricks worthy of a professional hooker (an expensive one, one he could never afford) to bring him to the edge, and when he began babbling and begging for release, she would cool him off again, only to start from the beginning. He'd never seen anyone sucking dick like that, not in any porn he'd ever found, and he certainly hadn't had any idea what it would feel like to be on the receiving end. The sheer imagination! He was probably crying at some point, but hell, who could blame him? The things she did to him, the things she made him feel… Stretching out every little shudder of delight, coaxing helpless moans from him with alternately rough and tender treatment, reducing his whole being to just one part of him, the part that became the centre of her full attention. He had no thought left in his brain, but his body knew one thing: if there was any chance she would suck him off like that again, he would be her willing slave forever.
But she wouldn't be Jo if she didn't try to torture him in the most evil of ways, denying him release again and again. When she brought him close to an orgasm for the third time, he'd had enough. Jo felt his mood changing and looked up at him suddenly with real fire in her eyes, her swollen lips still stretched around his shaft, her cheeks slightly hollowed. She looked wanton, sinful, and positively obscene. Suddenly she grabbed his hands and placed them on the sides of her head with forceful determination, ordering him to take action.
Without thinking he grabbed her by her unravelling hair, held her head in place and started really fucking her face. She tightened her lips around him, making him work for it, but her eyes showed such primal need that he couldn't hold back any longer. He pushed deeper into her mouth, virtually forcing himself down her throat. Jo stopped moving and let him fuck her. Her hands rested gently on his hips and her eyes begged him for more. She looked completely and entirely debauched.
He was so hot and hard and desperate for release that when she swallowed, tightening her throat around his sensitised head, he came harder than ever before in his whole life. He held her head firmly as he shoved himself down her throat for the last time, pressing her nose right into his pubic hair, and groaned his release, fireworks behind his eyelids consuming him. His knees buckled and the entire world stopped existing. There was only him and his woman's mouth on his dick. He didn't give her a choice but to swallow, if she wanted to avoid gagging, but if there was one thing he'd always known for sure, it was that this woman could take a lot. She could take this, too.
Coming down from the best orgasm in his life took a while. He was vaguely aware of her licking him clean and dry. He was lost to the rolling waves of pleasure so completely that she basically had to pry his hands off her head with gentle force, when he proved to be unable to let go of her anymore. His whole body was putty when she got up from her knees, but she'd expected that and held him firmly against her.
"Thank you," her red, puffed-up lips brushed his ear as she whispered the words. He simply groaned, holding on to her like she was his salvation. She was. No woman had ever thanked him for letting her give him a blowjob. He was so completely lost in Jo that it wasn't even funny anymore.
Joker had no idea how much time had passed when reality started coming back to him. His pants were still around his ankles and Jo's lips were still swollen and red as she held him in a gentle embrace, letting him come back from the heavens where she'd sent him herself.
"Oh, God," he croaked. The raspy quality of his voice reminded him that he'd been screaming earlier. God, he hoped there was nobody in the adjacent room, listening, recording. "Jo, you're killing me."
"Gotta keep you hooked, so that you don't leave me," she said with half a smile against his shoulder.
"What man in his right mind would even think about leaving you?"
"Exactly. I'm using all my dirty tricks to keep you thinking that."
Joker chuckled, finally letting go of her and looking around. Was it only him or was a bathroom the worst place ever to go down on a woman? He loved for her to be splayed comfortably on the pillows of their bed, soft and warm, relaxed, completely nude, open and wet for him. There was no such luxury around here, only a shower stall, a toilet and a counter with the sink. Even he couldn't imagine a position in here that wouldn't require him kneeling. Once again he cursed his weak bones, but he wasn't giving up yet. He had one secret weapon left, even if it wasn't ideal, not after the treatment she'd just given him, but he swore to make it up to her whenever they'd get a chance in the future.
He took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. The motion set her hair completely free of the scrunchie and it fell in white-golden waves around Jo's face, neck and shoulders. The tips of those light locks fell over her breasts covered by a plain, Alliance standard sporty bra. The garment had to go. He dragged the bra off her as well, making them both giggle like kids when it got stuck around her shoulders for a moment. Still, just a few minutes later Jo stood in front of him with her upper body free of clothes. Her hair tickled her golden nipples, trying to hide them from his gaze. He would have none of that. Joker brushed away Jo's hair and cupped those soft, middle-sized, pearly-white breasts, feeling more at home there than anywhere else in the galaxy.
Jo arched her back when he gently pinched and massaged her nipples, just the way she liked it. She knew how to play his body? Well, he knew how to play hers, too. Easily, like a violin. He ran his hands over every bit of skin he could see, discarding gentle carefulness in favour of passionate, heated digging of fingers into her flesh. She appreciated it, rewarding him with throaty moans.
Just a few minutes later he worked her pants and panties down to her knees and finally slid one hand to the holiest of all holy places. She couldn't spread her knees wider because her pants restricted her movements, but God, she'd tried. He would have loved to do this better, on their bed, using his mouth, but there was certain pride in him, knowing that he could undo his woman with just one hand. When his fingers rubbed over her silky-soft and dripping-wet lower lips, Jo started losing herself like he had lost himself earlier. With one arm around his neck, she tossed her head back and sobbed. Her eyes closed when he slid his fingers inside her, between her folds, over every sensitive spot he knew she had down there. His secret weapon, his nimble, talented hands were always at her service. Maybe he did have a superpower, like Jo always told him he did, since both making his ship and his woman fly was art for him that came naturally and easily.
Her knees started giving in a little as he saw sweat and goose bumps covering her skin, so he had to wrap his other arm around her waist to keep her standing. It didn't keep him from leaning down and licking her breast. She moaned harder, then screamed when he caught her nipple gently between his teeth and sucked, all the while working his magic between her thighs.
He rubbed her clit harder, with wider strokes, spreading her wetness around her folds, taking his clues from the way she clung to him, dug her fingers into the back of his shirt, tossed her head and undulated her hips to force his hand to maximise her own pleasure.
Her orgasm hit her all too soon. Sweaty in his arms, she made a long, guttural noise and as her body shook in tremors, her knees gave in for good. He caught her, but had to step forward to firmly trap her between his body and the counter, since he couldn't hold her entire weight and keep stimulating her in order to prolong her pleasure ride.
This was the way it was supposed to be, always. His woman, sweaty, panting, dishevelled, speechless, pleasured to the brink of consciousness in his arms.
A while later, when they were putting their clothes back on, he silently showed her his wrist with the brand new omnitool and the communicator in his ear. She gasped a little, question clear in her eyes. He nodded. They'd made it through the worst of separation.
"I love you," she declared with adamant conviction.
"Love you more," he teased her and Jo laughed, tossing his cap at him.
"Debatable," she teased back before returning to the main room.
He lay down on the couch, like almost a month ago at his mother's place, and Jo climbed over him to lie between him and the backrest. They wrapped their arms around each other and entangled their legs, still buzzing with the afterglow.
"Can you do something for me?" Jo whispered against his chest.
"Anything."
"Spread your visiting hours in larger chunks? Don't come every day, but stay longer when you do come. I can't stand watching minutes ticking away when you're here, I need to enjoy you longer." She buried her face in his neck and whispered so quietly that the listening devices planted in the room shouldn't have picked her up: "I need to rest."
"I can do that," he nodded. There were so many things he needed to ask her. Was she getting any sleep? Had she had any nightmares before he got access to the minipad? Where did she learn to suck dick like that? Who was Belinda Johanna Wells?
Another time. They should enjoy the peace and warmth as long as they had the opportunity.
