Neither of them slept for the rest of the night. Joker had a lot to absorb, while Jo lay tucked into his side, drained by her confession. Her hand lay on the nebula tattoo on his chest and Joker put his hand over hers. He had a lot to think about, a lot of information to sort through and he definitely had to adjust his view of Jo as a person and as a woman, but the God's honest truth was: he'd never felt closer to another person before that moment, even to her. No one had ever shown him all their vulnerability, all their weakness and humanity like she had tonight. He would spend the rest of his life finding out more and more new and fascinating things about this woman, but now he had all the puzzle pieces he needed to really know what she was all about.
He felt a little overwhelmed and humbled, but at the same time incredibly calm and grounded. Reaching for the sky all his adult life, he couldn't have imagined how pleasant, how satisfying and gratifying this feeling would be. They were together before, but now they were one. For the rest of his life? Absolutely, without any more stupid doubts and insecurities. There was peace and understanding between them that didn't require more words. They were together before, but now that the strongest walls between had finally fallen, their "togetherness" seemed palpable. Joker knew he was committed to it forever, no matter what he would have to do.
Jo had never felt this out of control and happy at the same time. Now that her man knew all there was to know about the demons in her head, he had more power over her than anyone else in the galaxy. It had been scarier than she'd imagined to let go of the last resistance, to let him in fully, to let the chips fall as they would, to trust all of herself to fate and to a man. It was scarier than jumping into the ocean without knowing how to swim (oh, the good old boot camp days!), scarier than any suicide mission, even scarier than looking into the Illusive Asshole's eyes and seeing no soul in them. She'd never had something of value to lose before, but tonight changed everything. Her life was no longer only her life. There were two of them and she knew it would screw with her head on missions in the future, but she would never give up this intimacy between them, no matter what.
James still felt bad about causing a fight between Commander Shepard and her friend, Admiral Anderson, but she didn't mention it again. In the next days, the last few days before Christmas, James noticed something different about her. He had no idea what had happened the night after the argument, but the relationship between her and Joker seemed... cemented, for the lack of a better word. It was noticeable in the subtle way they looked at each other now, with deep understanding and intimacy beyond anything James had ever known in his life. The trust and acceptance in their eyes was elevating even to an outsider. Whatever happened that night, they'd become one soul. The Alliance brig was the unlikeliest of all places to find such an example of true and deep love and even though James felt like a voyeur once again, he knew he was privileged to witness something so rare and wonderful.
To escape the cabin fever he was developing despite his best intentions, and to have a chance to talk to Joker outside of Shepard's room, James took a day off and went to see the Normandy. He hadn't been there since the day the Admiral brought him to Earth and after he'd heard from Shepard how she felt about that ship it seemed even more magical to him than before.
The Normandy looked disturbingly like a cut-up patient on a surgery table. Her airlock and the loading ramp were like gaping holes, panels were open on the inside and on the outside, wires and tubes hung freely, tools and machinery everywhere made clear: she was not space-worthy right now. The Alliance was digging deep into her bowels before they would put her back together.
Joker's guards stood at the airlock, gossiping in their usual manner. The rest of the working team, being relatively new, didn't know him but the two girls gladly let him inside.
When James walked in, Joker was sat in his chair with a sullen face and jabbing the interactive screens with something like barely suppressed fury now and then.
"May I be of assistance?" The VI's sexy voice addressed the pilot and he almost jumped out of his skin:
"No, you can't. I'm still mad at you." He punched some button. "I knew this mute button will come in handy again one day."
James decided not to approach Joker right now. The man seemed to take it personally that Admiral Anderson had flown the Normandy, only for some odd reason he was taking his anger out on the ship's VI. James had no idea how that would help, but the man was clearly a genius at his job and probably a little too attached to his baby. It wasn't uncommon. Many soldiers gave their favourite rifles names. A pilot's relationship with his ship was probably a lot deeper than that.
James went on a little tour through the ship by himself, curious about the changes. In the back of the CIC he saw crates with stuff that didn't seem to belong in this chaos of technical improvements. One of them was stuffed with ship models, the other one with personal items and every-day junk.
"What's all this?" He asked the bronze-skinned girl working on a console nearby.
"Oh, that's from the Captain's Loft," she said, never taking her eyes off the screen. "Personal stuff. Nobody knows what to do with it while they work up there."
James frowned as he looked at the crate. He noticed a hunting knife on top of the pile. Not a trademark Systems Alliance Marine Corps Kabar knife he would have expected someone like Shepard to have, but a really mean survival knife one could skin a bear with. As a weapon-loving man, James had to inspect it. The handle was made for a smaller, female hand, but otherwise there was nothing remarkable about the piece. Just like the famous owner of the knife herself, who was all about true lethality and not flashing showmanship, the knife was simple but deadly. Too bad, really, James thought. She deserved more beautiful and special things than this.
Still holding the knife, James turned to the young woman he spoke to before:
"I'm James, by the way," he gave her one of his charming smiles.
"Oh," she looked up. "I'm Samantha Traynor, communications specialist."
"How is the work going?"
"I know it's a strange thing, but I'd have to say: depending on the ship's mood. Sometimes we get done in a day what we planned a week for, sometimes the progress is moving backwards."
"I heard the VI was moody," he chuckled.
Traynor stole a quick glance around and above, as if looking out for the cameras.
"More than just moody. Sometimes I have a feeling that it likes or dislikes certain people. Yeah, I know, silly," she shrugged it off like a disturbing feeling she couldn't explain.
"Who does it dislike?" He inquired, hoping to hear a certain Major's name.
"The oddest thing," Traynor shrugged, still typing away on her keyboard. "Major Alenko seems to be getting the brunt of it. It's revoked his authorisation codes and locked him in the elevator so many times that he now walks around with a screwdriver to open a panel and bypass the wiring manually."
"Maybe it's just Joker disliking him?"
"Hm. Maybe." The girl was already deep in her work again and James knew when he was being dismissed. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the lowest button. Last time he tried that, the VI had refused to let him into the cargo bay. This time it obliged.
"Hello, EDI," he said experimentally when the cab started moving.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Vega," the sexy voice greeted him.
"Where is Major Alenko?"
"Major Alenko is currently in the med bay on the third level."
"Are you fucking with him on purpose?"
"I am unable to answer your enquiry. Please, clarify."
James could swear the voice tried to sound innocent while it was really, really not. The door opened and let him out in the cargo bay. He almost stumbled on a mechanical dog roaming the floor, cursed and jumped over it. Who would bring their mech dog to work? Those things were annoying at best, a workplace hazard at worst.
As he looked around, he couldn't find any resemblance between what he saw now and what he'd seen of this room on his first visit months ago. The previously empty space was now stuffed full with crates and tech. The gym was gone, replaced my consoles. James' eyes widened when he saw the man at the main console in he middle.
"Esteban!" He exclaimed, approaching the other man.
"James Vega," Steve Cortez turned to give him a little smile. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Joker's chatterboxes told us all about how you heroically saved Commander Shepard's life!"
They shook hands. James had no idea he would find an old acquaintance on the Normandy's retrofit team.
"Would have come sooner if I'd known you were here."
Steve showed him around a little, and when he returned to getting the shuttle bay ready, James hung back to look at the armoury in the corner. The weapon collection seemed like something straight out of science fiction. He saw a few older models mixed with several rifles and SMGs that bore the legendary N7 logo, but right next to them sat unique pieces, modified to the point of being illegal or unheard of in the rest of the galaxy. Some of it was pirate stuff from the Terminus Systems, and one rifle (at least he guessed it was a rifle) looked like it was made partly from organic material. Fuck, he thought to himself. Working on Shepard's team sure had its perks!
"You like?" Steve came up from behind him.
"I love!" James couldn't hold back his excitement.
"You're gonna love this," Steve pointed at a stack of crates next to the bench. James saw an oddly mixed collection of weapons, armour, com devices and medigel. Steve chuckled at his questioning look. "That's from Commander Shepard's bed."
James turned around to face his friend directly:
"Did I hear this right? Bed?"
"Yes, bed," Steve nodded. "As in, inside the pillow, inside the mattress, under the mattress, under the bed frame, in, on and behind the nightstand. You know, bed. I don't know what to do with it. The rest of the weapons were cleaned, catalogued and safely stored upstairs by whoever took care of the armoury when the crew was on board, but this stuff... I'm not sure if the Commander wanted it this way or if the Alliance is going to have my balls for not logging it in."
"She'll be back," James felt a sudden need to reassure himself and Steve. Dissolving Commander Shepard's personal collection would mean erasing her traces on her own ship. Now that he knew how strongly she felt about it, he was all about leaving her stuff the way she left it. "I'd leave it the way it is."
"You're the expert, being around her all the time and all," Steve shrugged, briefly looking down at what James was holding in his hands, before returning to his console without comment. James followed the look and realised he was still holding Shepard's knife. He was about to go back to the CIC and put it into the box, but then reconsidered. People were treating Shepard's privacy with no respect here now. What if someone wanted a souvenir? What if the Major wanted one? Shepard wasn't allowed any weapons right now, so until she was released her knife would be the safest in his care.
He went back to the CIC to talk to Joker about some Christmas plans. He expected the VI to give him some sort of trouble during his stay, but it remained perfectly civil to him. James left quickly after talking to Joker. It wouldn't be good to jinx it and have the technicians realise that the VI 'liked' him.
"Where are we going?" Jo frowned when Vega showed up in the evening without her dinner and told her to follow him.
"To my room," he smiled and Jo didn't like the small smugness on his face. She considered wiping it off, but felt too lazy to bother.
"Keep dreaming, Romeo. The only way for you to get me inside your quarters is if someone's throwing grenades at me."
"Don't be like that," he grinned. "Aren't you tired of these walls? It'll be fun, we'll just have a dinner."
"I've been told that your room looks exactly like this one, how does that help me escape these walls?" She grumbled, but the kid's excitement and enthusiasm only reminded her that she was technically not that much older than him. If he could be thrilled about something, she should be able to put her grumpiness aside for one evening.
She should have known something was up when she followed Vega and found no guards outside her room. Vega opened the door to his room and suddenly Jo's senses were overwhelmed.
"Merry Christmas!" Vega declared with a huge smile.
The room looked indeed like her own, except it was sparkling. There was a small Christmas tree in front of the window complete with decorations, lights and an angel on top. The walls and bookshelves were also decorated with lights, pine cones and branches, red bows, golden bells, little Santas and deer. The smell of rich dinner and pine tree assaulted her nose before her eyes could adjust to all the bling. Then she realised that Joker was already in the room, wearing a distinctive red and white coat and a thin spring on his head that dangled a mistletoe above his face.
He grinned widely when he saw her and opened his arms, inviting her over. Jo could still barely breathe when she stepped into the room.
"What is this?" She gestured around and at the mistletoe. "You expect me to kiss you or something?"
"That would be a good start," he cocked his head. "Have you been a good girl this year? Tell Santa the truth."
The only reason Jo even knew what the mistletoe was for was because of vids. She'd never celebrated Christmas in her life. Even on those rare occasions when her friends in the Alliance tried to, she always found a way to avoid the celebration.
Joker and Vega had clearly conspired behind her back about this and she didn't know if she was mad at them or not.
"I'll kiss you because you're the sexiest motherfucker in the Council Space, not because of some plant," she said eventually.
"Shut up, Ebenezer," Joker rolled his eyes, barely containing a laughter. "It's time to change things in your life and look at this: this year you have people who want to teach you what Christmas is all about. So let us."
He stepped to her, the mistletoe merrily dangling a few inches above their faces as he meshed their lips together in a deep, obscene and breathtaking kiss.
"Mmh, yeah," he licked his lips when they broke apart. "You've been a good girl, I can tell. That's why there's going to be presents after dinner."
Jo couldn't say that she hated Christmas as a concept, she truly didn't care about it so much, and she didn't suddenly start to care just because two men insisted on her sitting through an abundant dinner in a room decorated to the last inch. However, she definitely appreciated the break in her routine. And she definitely appreciated the easy camaraderie that filled the room, taking the three of them away from all trouble of the outside world. She'd needed that more than the food and drink.
"Now," Joker leaned back and rubbed his belly when the dessert was gone. "I really wanted to give you that stability dampener you wanted for your assault rifle, but you're not allowed any weapons or even parts right now, so I had to improvise." He got up and waved her and Vega to go after him to the tree, where a few beautifully wrapped boxes sat. Jo followed her beloved to sit on the floor. Joker handed her and Vega a box each. Hers was a lot bigger than Vega's.
She was still busy with the wrapper when Vega opened his and took out a very odd item. It looked like a piece of metal shrapnel, complete with ripped edges and burn traces, encased in a crystal dodecahedron.
"That's a piece of the original Normandy," Joker nodded at Vega's present. "A real souvenir, not fan shop crap."
The way he said it made Jo think that there was some history between the two men regarding souvenirs, though she didn't know about it.
"Is that from the memorial wall the boys made?" She asked and Joker nodded.
"Garrus saved a few pieces in a crate. I managed to snag one before the Alliance tossed them into garbage."
"But didn't you want it for yourself?" Vega finally found his speech. He was clearly moved by Joker's gesture.
"I know where she's buried," Joker said solemnly. "Don't need a souvenir. But I would like you to have this. At least it will be with someone who appreciates her."
"Thank you," Vega swallowed hard, closing his big paw over the crystal. Even Jo was a little surprised by Joker's thoughtfulness and the idea to have the shrapnel encased in crystal just for Vega. She didn't realise the two men had become so close.
"What are you waiting for?" Joker nudged Jo in her side and she finally ripped the paper on her present. Inside the box she found a tiny tree. A real one, with glowing pink leaves, just like those trees from Thessia they saw together in the Council gardens on the Citadel, only very small, like a bonsai.
She remembered how ten years ago she was sent to China to learn kung fu and spent some time caring for little bonsai trees in one of the schools she'd visited. She'd loved them, and since then all kinds of plants.
"It's called shi'iola," Joker said a lot gentler and quieter than when he spoke to Vega. "Apparently it needs a lot of light and water, and I kid you not - music. I don't know how the asari plants get music when they grow in the wilderness, but there seems to be a consensus about it. It's even in the instructions about how to care for it. Read for yourself." He pointed at a little card stuck underneath the flat pot.
"Thank you," Jo didn't even try to hide the emotion when she kissed her man. "You always know just what would make my heart beat faster."
When it was Vega's turn to give presents, he gave Jo a datapad with some of the mail she was getting (and the Alliance was stopping her from reading) from her friends all over the galaxy. Joker got another datapad. It contained a security camera feed from one of Jo's early interrogations, one that she'd made particularly difficult for the Alliance officers, but also especially funny to watch. It contained full three hours of endless source of cackles and roaring laughter for both men, even though they only watched a few minutes before Jo interrupted. She was pleased to be such a wonderful source of amusement for them, but didn't want her reputation to slip to that of a comedian. Those Alliance officers surely weren't amused.
"I'm sorry, Vega, I had no chance to find something for you," she said, once Joker put the vid aside. "But I do have something for you, my love, which I would get you if only I was allowed extranet access for half a minute. It was supposed to be your birthday present, but the occasion calls for it now."
Both she and Joker looked at Vega, who tossed up the dodecahedron and caught it deftly:
"It would be a present to me, Commander, if you finally agreed to use the cafeteria, the gym and the gardens freely. I doubt anyone would bother you there anymore. If you say yes, I'll authorise extranet access for half a minute."
Jo knew that he was taking a big chance. The Alliance was very strict about shielding her from any contact with the outside world. Heads would certainly roll if anyone beyond this room got wind of this. She knew that he only agreed to do this because she'd never asked much of him and he really wanted to be of service.
"Ok, I'll use those places," she agreed and instantly received Joker's omnitool to use. When she gave it back less than half a minute later, Joker's eyes widened in excitement.
"No way," he licked a little drool off his lips.
"Yep, that's the original first edition of Fornax, featuring the legendary asari stripper Int'iala," Jo said, more to Vega than to Joker, because her man definitely knew what he was looking at.
"But it's impossible to find! I would know," Joker said, never taking his eyes off the pictures on his screen. "I searched the whole extranet for it! It was taken off all servers when the legendary Int'iala finished her stripping career and became an ambassador to the volus. It's illegal to distribute this edition. How did you get it?"
"Nothing too illegal. But I did have to flash all my authorisations to gain access."
Joker looked up at her with dreamy spark in his eyes:
"Oh, babe, you know just what would make my cock weep."
"It's what I live for," she laughed, pleased. She could see how appalled Vega still got at Joker's vulgar and somewhat disrespectful way of talking to her, but she knew - and Vega had yet to learn - that Joker's words sometimes needed to be translated. This particular statement meant: You know me better than anyone in the world and let me be myself, you support whatever passion or vice I have, and I worship you for that.
Jo wouldn't have said she was a believer now, but the Christmas evening was a success. The three of them spent it talking, laughing, eating, playing music to Jo's new bonsai tree and seeing first hand what made Int'iala so legendary. It was a night among friends, just like some nights on the Normandy. Jo missed her friends terribly and was glad to read their messages while the boys were torn between Fornax and Jo's interrogation footage. It struck her when she realised how close Vega had gotten to them. She was considering the kid a friend now, not just a fanboy and wannabe-guard. Vancouver symbolised everything that was evil and monstrous about humanity to her, but even here she could meet people she could call friends.
It was business as usual for all of them after Christmas. The dreary routine kept up despite the fireworks on New Year's Eve and Joker's birthday in mid-January. The Defence Committee kept stalling Jo's trials, setting up a date and pushing it back again. Slowly other news started to flood the news channels, and the human short attention span was Jo's salvation. Without any new scandals to uncover, the journalists were moving on to other topics.
Jo was trying her absolute best to not go stir-crazy. She knew the faces of pretty much every permanent resident or a frequent visitor to the HQ, knew who went for walks in the park, who ordered what in the cafeteria. By mid-February she'd found that her little asari tree liked Rimsky-Korsakov's "Sheherazade" most of all. She'd read countless books, beat Vega countless times in poker and in hand-to-hand, she even caught herself snapping at him and Joker now and then. They hadn't done anything wrong except being able to come and go pretty much as they pleased. Jo loved her freedom and independence and despite some gruelling training she could only take so much of being incarcerated. She was too strong-willed to abide by someone else's orders forever. She was the one in command and she wanted it back more than anything.
On the other hand she knew what it would take to become free again. The end of the world. Deep in her heart she knew: given a choice, she'd stay in the brig forever, if only it kept the Reapers away. The longer she stayed inside the room, the less time remained until their arrival. No matter how she fought it, the nagging thought ate at her day and night: would this be the day?
Shepard had been restless for most of February, going through her exercises like a madwoman, but it didn't seem to help very much. James could understand the itchiness, he really could. He felt the same. Thus he wasn't surprised when one morning she addressed him:
"Hey, Vega, remember you wanted me to ask you for whatever I might need?"
"Sure thing, whatever's in my power."
"I need exercise."
"Didn't we go through five rounds of Beat Vega Bloody just yesterday?" He chuckled, even though he didn't really think it was funny how easily she could wipe the floor with him. For fuck's sake, he was twice her size, it was embarrassing as hell! But at least the other guards knew her reputation and didn't expect anything else but his failure. Not because he was weak, apparently, as he'd been told. Just because she was Shepard. He definitely understood their notion, though.
"I don't mean playing footsie for amusement, Vega. I need some real action."
He swallowed.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Just get me into the big gym when it's filled with officers."
"I do not like the sound of that." She had been authorised visits to a small, more private gym, to keep her from contact with too many people. Technically James could get her to the big gym as well, but he really didn't like the way she sounded just now.
"You don't have to like it. Just get me what I need before I start taking it out on you for real. We both wouldn't want that, trust me."
He swallowed again. Yes, he was aware that beating him was easy for her. It was still insulting to know she considered sparring with him playing footsie. Not that he'd mind at all if she decided to really play footsie… Digressing. Don't go there.
"All right, I can arrange that."
He did. He picked the time of day when he knew the large hall would be filled to the rafters with officers. The moment she stepped in heads turned and conversations started to quiet down. To make it happen faster she clapped her hands twice and barked:
"Attention!"
James jerked to stand at attention before he even thought about what his body was doing. He cursed at the knee-jerk reaction, but smirked when he realised that half of the room had done the same.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Shepard assumed her commanding stance, even though there were quite a few higher ranking officers than her. "I assume you all know who I am, so you must realise by now that I have a problem. I'm growing soft and fat in my cell. I need a sparring partner. Someone who can hold his or her ground against me for real. Is there anyone here who can rise to the challenge and wipe the floor with Commander Shepard's ugly visage? Or do you maybe know someone tough enough to win against a little blond girl?"
The silence rung in his ears as people exchanged glances.
Then a man stepped forward. He was buff, almost as heavy as James. Unlike James, however, he wore a serious scowl when he looked at Shepard.
"Second Lieutenant Wells," he growled. "I'll take my chances."
"What did I do to you?" Shepard asked him seriously, like she actually wanted to know.
"You're a terrorist, Shepard, you work for Cerberus and we all know how Cerberus operates. You bring shame on all the Alliance. I hope they lock you away forever, or give you up to the batarians."
"Good. At least you won't hesitate to demolish my face. But I won't fight by the rules, Second Lieutenant."
"Of course, rules don't apply to you, right? Self-justice is what we call your style, so nothing new there."
She didn't taunt him further and he had enough sense to stop talking after that. The ring was freed immediately for them and forty seconds later Wells lay unconscious on the floor, his head resting in a growing pool of blood. Two bloody teeth lay near his mouth. The spectators stared at Shepard with deepening coldness.
"Anyone else who might be a tougher challenge?" She asked it seriously, without mocking or taunting anyone. She needed her release and it looked like it wasn't coming. "Fuck, I knew it." She climbed out of the ring and the officers parted for her like the Red Sea.
"Shepard," James called, trotting after her towards the corner with the punching bag. "Hey, at this rate no one would ever dare to spar with you, I'm sorry."
"Yeah. I need the krogan king right now."
"Yeah, I can't help you with krogans inside the brig, so tell me, what else can I do for you?"
She turned around sharply and kicked to the side. Her foot hit the boxing bag, the seam broke, the middle of the bag folded neatly around her boot for a moment before the whole bag split in half, tore clean off the chain it hung on and flew several meters to hit the wall, sending the sand flying in an arch.
"That's what I need, Vega. Someone who can take that and give back as much."
The officers stood still for a few long moments, looking between her angry face and the broken sandbag. They were shocked, even scared. Most of them were big guys and strong ladies. None dared to challenge her after Wells.
"That's what I thought," Shepard looked at them with pain in her eyes. She'd scared them and she didn't know what to do about it now. "Might as well start punching walls," she shrugged. "The best chance I have at getting somewhere."
She turned and started her way out of the gym and James followed her. But when she almost reached the door, someone grabbed her elbow and pulled her aside.
"Shepard," the man said. "I might know someone who'd be able to give you what you need. He's not a krogan, but he's a mean fucker. I'll talk to him. Be here tomorrow, same time."
Shepard looked the man, a Colonel, down and up with something like a tired hope.
"Hope he fares better than Wells did," she shrugged, freed her elbow and continued on her way.
