A/N: *pokes head out of hiding place tentatively* *posts new chapter* *ducks back into hiding*

There's No More Rides For Free

When Joker slowly started to regain consciousness, he quickly came to a conclusion that would not have required being on Shepard's crew to reach — the situation they were in was absolutely FUBAR.

He slit his eyes, ignoring the dull numbness in his arm indicative of medigel application, and tried to take stock of the situation. He was in what looked like the back of a Kodiak shuttle, cuffed to one of the armrests. His other arm was wrapped in a splint and bandage that extended all the way to his elbow, which he thought was probably nice of them.

"How's it looking back there?" The voice came from the cockpit, and he felt someone shift on the bench seat next to him.

"Shepard's still out. Think Moreau's coming around. I'd shake 'im but I'd probably break 'im."

"Keep Shepard out. I don't wanna deal with that bitch unless I have to."

Joker lifted his head slightly, opening his eyes more. There she was, her head slumped forward on her chest and hands bound behind her back. One shoulder on her uniform was torn, bearing the glossy sheen of recent medigel application, and there was a bit of blood lingering on her forehead from another glossy area that looked like it may have come from the butt of a gun. He wasn't an expert, of course, but he'd seen Shepard show up with gun-shaped bruises before. One of their attackers was next to her, gun held lightly across his knees but his hand tense on the stock.

That was his last straight thought, before someone pushed the barrel of a gun against the side of his head. "Morning, sunshine," the man sitting next to him drawled. "Cooperate and I'll do my best not to pull this trigger."

"Yeah, that's all sorts of comforting," Joker replied, though he froze in place. "Mind . . . you know . . . putting that down? I mean, what am I going to do, break my arm at you? Again."

The man thought for a moment, then lowered and holstered his gun. "Just don't try anything."

Joker huffed. Right. Like he was going to try something. "What did you do to her?"

"Shepard? Just keeping her sedated. Our employer wants her intact." He glared at the pilot pointedly as he added, "Though he was less specific about the spare."

"That's ... comforting." Joker cleared his throat as he glanced back across at Shepard. "How much longer are you gonna keep her like that?"

"Few hours. Now shut up."

Joker eyed the man's sidearm, frowned, and sighed heavily, resting his head back on the frame of the shuttle.

Alenko was going to have a fit, of that he was sure. Someone was probably going to get biotically shoved off something, probably the Executor. But ... they'd track them down. They had EDI and Liara ... it was only a matter of time.

But if it was as hard to find as Cronos had been ... it'd taken them nearly a year to find it, and that had been with Liara working on it as much as possible. They didn't have that sort of time, not with Shepard ... well, not with her knocked up.

She probably wouldn't try to escape, not with him stuck there. He didn't have any illusions about his role - he was to ensure she didn't try to rip apart the facility. And as long as he was there, she wouldn't do a damn thing.

But they'd have to. It'd be hard, since it was only them, and she wasn't at her best and he was, well, himself. Even if Kaidan pulled all hands on deck for this round, it wouldn't be enough to find them in time. They needed to get out and contact the Normandy, that was that. And if they couldn't do that, they'd have to go to ground. Easier said than done, for them, but . . .

Joker closed his eyes, keeping his head resting back on the wall. He'd think this through along the way. There had to be a way to get a message to her once they arrived ... he'd just have to figure out how.

#

Shepard was dimly aware of a dull ache somewhere in her back and head, but for some reason it didn't particularly concern her. Wherever she was, she was lying on her back, on what felt like metal. That didn't particularly bother her either.

What bothered her was the voice she couldn't quite place as she struggled to swim back into consciousness. It was familiar, but not familiar enough to merit an immediate recognition, especially in her state. Was she ... was she being drugged? That concerned her, as apprehension welled in her stomach.

It was about then that she realized that one of the babies must have been pressing on her bladder, and that suddenly became the most pressing secondary concern. The first, of course, being where she was and who was holding her.

She remembered enough to know that was what was going on.

"The tests are positive."

"You're absolutely certain." A pause. "And the genetic match?"

"As suspected."

"Excellent. Wait until she regains consciousness and explain her situation." Footsteps retreated, and she struggled to remember just where she'd heard that voice before. A door slipped closed, and the first voice spoke again.

"She should be coming out of it shortly. Be prepared."

As she regained more and more control over her own body, more soreness started to surface. Despite all her efforts to remain still, she couldn't resist the low groan that escaped her half-parted lips

"Good morning, Shepard," someone said, rather too cheerily for her tastes. She darted her tongue out to wet her lips.

"You have to earn the right to use my name," she said, voice rough.

"Very well, then, major. How are you feeling?"

Shepard finally slit her eyes open and glared at him. He was a squat, balding man in a lab coat that looked a size too big for him, an old Cerberus insignia on the sleeve. A name tag read "Dr. E. Couzier." "I've been abducted, one of my marines is dead, one of my friends may be and I'm strapped to a medical table. How the fuck do you think I feel?"

He made a note on a datapad. "You're in a bad mood, obviously."

"Go to hell. Now why am I here? What are you looking for?"

"I wouldn't worry - you'll be well taken care of. Now, I don't like to resort to threats. But that friend of yours who was with you ... we have him."

"And you'll do bad things to him if I step out of line. Yeah. I get it." At least if they were telling the truth, he was safe for the time being. "I want proof that he's alive."

Couzier shrugged, then drew a datapad out of a pocket and held it up, then switched it on.

::Hey, Marrakech, it's me.:: It was Joker all right - he only used her first name if shit was really serious. ::They've got me locked up somewhere back here, not sure where. I've managed to avoid pissing them off so far, but you know me - can't keep my mouth shut for too long. I give 'em a few days before they start breaking my legs or something.::

::You done yet?:: A rough voice interrupted.

::Do I look done? Look, Shep, we've got this, okay? Just gotta stick it out a bit is all. And I think I know -:: His voice tried to speed up before the recording ended abruptly. Couzier tucked the datapad back into his labcoat pocket. Shepard released a held breath, letting her head fall back on the table.

"I can personally attest that he is unharmed, and that any wounds he sustained in the firefight have been taken care of. As for you . . ." He studied his datapad for a moment. "You will be monitored and examined every few days for changes to the pregnancy-"

"Is that what this is about?" Shepard snapped, for the first time pulling at her restraints. As she suspected they didn't move, and only made the several armed men in the room swing their guns up towards her. "So what? I do all the heavy lifting, then you sweep in and what? Make 'em work for you? Use them for genetic material?"

"My employer's motives are not my concern," Couzier replied airily. "You would have to ask him."

"Then tell him to get his ass down here. I've got some serious questions for him."

Couzier chuckled as he tucked the datapad back into his coat. "I'm afraid he has both already left and expressed no interest in speaking with you. So your curiosity will have to be abandoned."

She half-glared at him. "So I'm being held for no real reason."

"It isn't as if you're in the legal system. There is no such thing as habeus corpus here, I'm afraid."

Shepard restrained herself, settling instead for another solid glare.

"Get her up and into the room. There's no reason for her to be out here."

"Yes, sir." Couzier started towards the door, and Shepard cleared her throat.

"Can I keep the datapad?" she asked hesitantly. Couzier paused, then turned and tossed it to one of the guards. "Appreciate it."

Couzier made a noise that may have been acknowledgment and left through a door on the other side of the room.

At least two weapons were trained on her as the head guard or whomever undid her restraints. When he grasped her arm to pull her to her feet, Shepard jerked it back.

"I may not have much say here," she said, threat inherent in her tone. "But do that again and I will break your arm."

The guard stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "On your feet then."

Part of her hoped they'd take her elsewhere in the facility, so she could figure out where they were and how large it was, but they merely motioned her towards a door opposite the one Couzier had entered. When the guard pushed the latch, it showed a small, cell like room on the other side. She was quickly prodded into the room, handed the datapad, and the door was closed behind her. She listened for the chime of the lock and heard three.

"Son of a bitch," she murmured.

The bladder issue quickly rose to the forefront of her mind, and she was thankful to find a small bathroom off the main cell. Once that had been taken care of she sank onto the bed, staring down at the tablet in her hands. She turned it on, and replayed Joker's message. Joker, she knew, was trying to do more than just insist they'd survive this. They had known each other since they were in the same high school on Arcturus - they knew each other.

Glancing at the camera in the corner she turned her back on it, studying the datapad closely. The back panel - which hid all the connectiony bits and needed to be accessible - was just the smallest bit ajar. Enough that someone wouldn't notice it unless they were looking.

Making sure it was out of sight of the camera, she dug a nail under the panel and pried it off, finding a folded scrap of paper. Joker had gotten into the habit of carrying paper during their time with Cerberus, to give messages to Shepard that he didn't want Cerberus to see. It hadn't changed since, apparently, and she decided she could no longer rag on him for it.

S - yeah so THIS sucks idiots left me alone for a few mins hopefully I can get this note to u there's a terminal in my cell dont know if u'll have one Im going to try + hack into the network I wont be able to get a message off probly but we might be able to get r/o for this place + I might be able to get urs online under the ladar we should be able to bust out of here in 1 wk mayb 2 theyll probably be watching u more closely sides they cant hurt me if theyre using me as leverage. Fuckers. I'll see what I can do. -J

Shepard shook her head, then eyed the small terminal on the far wall. He must have scrawled it out in a few seconds to resort to no punctuation and shorthand, especially if the end of the message was any indication.

She had little doubt that Kaidan would tear apart the galaxy if he had to. The problem would lie with their ability to find them - to date, they had found precious little information on Echidna. Hell, they still didn't know who the leader was - he was as faceless as the Illusive Man had been during the hunt for Saren. Shepard thrust Joker's note into a pocket on the pants she'd apparently been changed into while unconscious and let herself collapse back on the bed with a sigh. Even Liara had found nothing.

No, they would have to try and escape on their own. There was no guarantee that Kaidan would find them before the twins were born, and she didn't want that to happen. She couldn't risk . . . almost protectively and completely unconsciously she rested a hand over her stomach. She couldn't risk that happening. Whatever they wanted with her children it would not be sunshine and butterflies. And that even depended more so on who was behind the organization to begin with.

No. They would need to get out themselves, even if Joker would slow them down. The thought to just leave him behind of course never occurred to her - he was her oldest friend. She'd work around it as usual. And besides, she had to rely on him now — the extent of her tech skills had been spotting the slightly-open panel on the datapad. She was complete shit with tech, even if Garrus and Kaidan had tried desperately to teach her how to at least throw an overload or hack a terminal.

She couldn't do a damn thing. And that . . . That did not sit well with her.