Chapter 11

Reminder:

Turian Councilor is Sparatus.

Asari Councilor is Tevos.

Salarian Councilor is Valern.

Jassal is the Flight Professor.

"This debrief tells us nothing," Shepard said as she turned to Garrus.

It was true. All of the information that the Council had given them regarding the mission had been frustratingly vague. This is what they knew: a couple of researchers in the Matano system had gone missing in a scenario that was eerily similar to Liara T'soni's, but otherwise unremarkable. Updates from the research group had grown increasingly spotty, until they had stopped coming at all.

Unlike Liara, however, these researchers hadn't seemed on the edge of a breakthrough. Although, to be fair, Shepard wasn't even sure what a "breakthrough" would look for this type of research. They were botanists researching the reproductive habits of the akmorta, a carnivorous plant native only to the Matano system. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as "boring," even to scientists, Shepard mused as she stifled a yawn.

Garrus shook his head. "Nah, it doesn't tell us exactly nothing." He returned Shepard's expectant glance with a smirk. "I mean, it tells us that researchers can find ways to make even sex sound boring."

Joker snorted, but Shepard rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Garrus. How are we supposed to prepare for this?" She tossed the datapad down in disgust.

"And I don't even think we have the whole story. I think there's something else. Look at this." She sent him a file with a few strokes on her Omni-tool. "This podunk research group studying plant sex has a grant for more than 5 million credits."

The room was quiet, and the perplexed look on her companions faces let Shepard know that she wasn't getting her point across nearly as succinctly as she'd like. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and then tried again. "I think this plant sex research project is a front for something larger. Something more classified."

That caught everyone's attention. Tali spoke first. "Well, I guess it's . . . . plausible. They do seem pretty well-funded. Especially for a botany project."

Tali looked down at her datapad with renewed vigor. "And look, this grant has gotten renewed every year for the past seven years! How much 'observing' could they possibly need to do?"

"Doesn't look like they found much new data, either. The summaries for these grants look like they've been copied and pasted each year. No updates at all."

"So what were they actually researching?" Garrus asked aloud, not really expecting an answer.

"Doubt the Council knows," Shepard said, " but their funders probably do, though. Tali, what can you tell me about the - " she scrolled quickly to the bottom of the document - "Terran Center for Botanical Research?"

Tali's fingers blurred over her Omni-tool interface. After a few moments, she responded. "Nothing. Literally nothing. They don't even seem to exist, honestly, and I did a pretty thorough search."

"If Tali didn't find it, then it doesn't exist." Shepard crossed her arms and looked at Garrus. "Soooo. . . . A nonexistent - or extremely highly classified - 'research group' has been donating 5 million credits a year to a study on reproduction of some stupid plant in a remote corner of the galaxy. And they've been doing it for the past -" she checked the datapad, "- seven years."

"But why would a center for botanical research be classified?" Tali asked.

There were a few moments of silence, and then -

"It wouldn't be." It was Joker's voice that broke the silence. "It's a front, like Shepard said." Then he turned back to his datapad, as if the matter was settled.

"So then . . . what are we walking into down there?" Garrus asked.

Shepard shrugged. "Could be anything, really. Maybe they were studying something dangerous. Maybe they were developing new weapons tech. Only thing I'm sure of is that it's nothing good - governments don't classify research projects to hell on a whim. Whatever they're doing down there, it's something they didn't want anyone to know about."

Garrus gave an unconcerned shrug. "Doesn't seem to be too much of a problem. We know something's not right, and now we're more prepared than we were a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, but it's my responsibility to make sure that we have a safe and successful mission. If I don't know what we're walking into. . . ." She shook her head. "It's just an unnecessary risk."

"Well, a little risk never hurt anyone."

"Only because we're young and in training. This is the real thing, there's real danger now, and I'll be damned if I let one of my people get hurt because I - "

Garrus interrupted with a scoff. "Awww, you hear that, Tali? We're her people. Thanks, Mother Shepard, but I still think we'll be able to handle- "

"Jesus, Garrus, what's your deal?" Joker looked up from his datapad again. "Someone's trying to avoid you getting killed and your response is to act like the biggest ass this side of the galaxy?"

"I just don't want us to go back to the Council with our fringe drooping below our necks as we tell them that this mission is too dangerous for us to handle! Just because of some . . . some . . . suspicion about grants!"

Shepard's eyes flashed. "Garrus, I don't want to reject the mission! I just -". She let out a short, harsh breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"How should I know whether we'll need extra biotic power or a tech specialist? How stupid would you feel if we got all the way to the Matano system and couldn't get into anything because we didn't plan for security to be so tight?"

"I need Tali to hack into anything we might find, and I need you, Garrus, because no one can beat you for sniping if we decide to aim for a stealth approach."

(Garrus looked somewhat mollified.)

"But then I'd also like to have Ashley along for sheer combat skills - what if we end up having to fight out an entire room full of geth? And I want Wrex there too, because . . . well, when isn't it useful to have a regenerating krogan on our side?

"Of course I still want to go on this mission, Garrus. Like, obviously I want us to go on these missions. But I can't make any of these incredibly important decisions until I know more accurately what we'll be walking into down there. "

"So then. . . . what do you want, Shepard?"

Shepard paused, and then finally answered, "I want to bring everyone. You and Tali and Wrex and Ashley and Kaidan."

". . . Oh. Well. That works."

Tali had been watching the conversation with a lazy, removed interest, but at hearing Shepard's last words, she pumped her fists in the air. "What? What? Yes! Oh, keelah, this is gonna be so much fun!"

Shepard felt a smile creep up on her face and ducked her head in order to better hide her grin. "It's not the point for it to be fun, Tali. It's so that we'll be safe. This could be dangerous and -"

She might as well have been talking to a brick wall, because Tali was now out of her chair and pacing excitedly. "Everyone! In space! On a mission!"

"It's just an idea right now. I've still got to convince the Council, and they're not going to okay an unsupervised super-fun field trip with my best friends for any reason other than safety and preparedness. And caution."

Joker laughed. "You slipped up, Shep. You just admitted that it would be super fun."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Laugh it up, y'all. Some of us have work to do to make sure this mission happens." She left the classroom still wearing her straight face, but as soon as she was sure no one was watching, she let her face split into the wide grin that had been threatening to break free earlier.

Alright, alright, yes. It would be so much fucking fun.

Anderson straightened his tie in the mirror and flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his collar. He had a holo-meeting with the Council in just a few moments. And not just the Council, either. He'd been called, along with all the instructors for the top-level Combat and Flight classes – Anderson himself, Professor Jassal, Professor Shannara T'Pasi and Professor Morlon Detus had all been called to meet with the Council on the evening before Shepard's crew was scheduled to leave.

Anderson wasn't sure, but he suspected they were all there to assess the capabilities of a few more students.

Maybe Shepard convinced them.

In light of the last presentation she'd given the Council, her suggestion that the superbly well-funded research project was a front for something more dangerous seemed eminently reasonable. Anderson could only hope that the Council had seen her proposal to bring an entire crew of possible capable squadmates as similarly reasonable.

For a brief moment, Anderson wondered if Shepard had done that on purpose - started off with that crazy plot so that her next, true plan seemed sane in comparison.

No David, his inner voice said ruefully. That's what you would have done.

Even so, Anderson couldn't have planned it better himself. He'd been training Kaidan, Ashley and Wrex until they were almost as cohesive a unit as Shepard, Garrus and Tali were. The time and effort had paid off - he was almost as confident in Kaidan and Ashley as he was with the rest of them, and he could say so to the Council without a hint of dishonesty.

His vidcom chimed cheerily at him. That'll be the Council, then. He took one more glance in the mirror, cleared his throat, then walked over to his vidcom to accept the call.

The hazy, translucent blue images of the three Councillors appeared on the 3D screen in front of him. After a few moments, three other faces appeared in the margins of the screen, looking just as primped and uncomfortable as Anderson felt. After a few moments, Anderson recognized them as Professor Jassal, the flight instructor, Professor Shannara, And Professor Morlon.

Shannara was a "retired" asari commando whose career as a spy was cut short when her cover was blown by a jealous turian lover. She'd fled, managing to evade capture from all of the groups she'd infiltrated. Rumors and legends had it that she'd been stationed in the Terminus Systems, laying low and making no enemies.

She'd stayed on the outskirts of Council Space for 200 years, outliving her enemies, their children, and in some cases, their grandchildren. She resurfaced right around the time of the Reaper War, eventually leading the team of commandos that defended Thessia against the Reapers' final (and unsuccessful) onslaught.

Her skin was darker than that of most asari, a deep indigo that seemed to blend with the navy of the uniform she wore almost every day. The ends of two of her tentacles were pierced with a ladder of gold rings that glinted in the light.

Her face was stern and severe, with a long jagged scar that stretched from her left temple across the bridge of her nose to the right corner of her mouth. The students joked that she was really a krogan in disguise, until she surprised them all by informing them that her father had indeed been krogan. A few of the brighter students had done the math, and realized that her father had been krogan at a time when it was very unlucky to have been krogan. They did not make any more jokes about her parentage after that.

Morlon was tall, even for a salarian, towering over most humans and asari at a cool 6-foot-5. His technical expertise was staggering, especially given his disarmingly unconventional salarian looks. He was almost the polar opposite of Shannara, smiling easily and speaking deliberately and slowly. He was 31 years old, well into middle age for a salarian.

He was a favorite among students, his gentle and self-deprecating humor endearing him to the GTA student population. Only the best highest-level students ever really got to see him in action. His carefully crafted avuncular persona seemed to melt away, replaced by that of a gritty, hardened ex-STG tech with a penchant for technological destruction.

Morlon had made a career out of seeming unthreatening (one does not survive long enough to be an ex-STG officer without seeming unthreatening), but he was no one to be trifled with. Before he retired, it had been said that there was no lock in existence that Morlon couldn't pick his way into, given enough time. He often said that he spoke machine better than he spoke people, but the people who knew him well knew how untrue that was. Morlon understood people better than almost anyone on the station.

Jassal looked the most comfortable of the bunch, as if being called in for emergency meetings with the Council was an everyday occurrence. Her grey hair, normally tightly pulled into a bun, was loose around her shoulders.

Finally, Anderson saw the slightly hazy blue figures sharpen and become slightly more solid-looking, signifying that the signal was strong and secure. Apparently Councilor Tevos noticed the same thing, because she cleared her throat, and then began to speak.

"Thank you for meeting on such short notice. This meeting should be brief, if all goes according to plan. As you already know, a few of your students are already participating in our Spectre training program.

"These candidates have requested the possible assistance of fellow students of theirs on an upcoming mission. After reviewing the case files about the mission, Shepard came to the conclusion that some of the intelligence may be . . . incomplete.

Shannara spoke, somewhat sharply. "If the intel is spotty, would it not be wise to send in a reconnaissance team first?"

Tevos ignored the sharpness in Shannara's voice, and responded with only a hint of annoyance. "Yes, obviously, were this a normal set of missions. Instead, this is training for our Spectre trainees, so these students will be the ones to act as our reconnaissance team. Shepard is acting as the commander for these missions, and she believes that the talents of Ashley Williams, Urdnot Wrex and Kaidan Alenko may be of use during this mission. We have called this meeting to determine whether this suggestion has merit."

Shannara nodded. "Well, Alenko and Wrex's biotic skills are solid," the asari said. "Not as strong as those of a pure biotics, but respectable, given their other training areas."

"We've had experience with Urdnot Wrex before," said Tevos. "Shepard's mission report indicated that he was most helpful. However, I am concerned about Alenko. Is he . . .stable? Emotionally? Do you feel he would be able to cope with the added stress?"

Anderson had to admit, it was a fair question. He opened his mouth to answer, but paused at the startled look on Sparatus's face.

"Why would he be emotionally unstable?" Sparatus asked.

Anderson gave an internal smirk. Ah. It seems someone skimmed the pre-meeting debrief. After a brief moment's calculation, he allowed that smirk to show on his face.

Valern answered, a disapproving tone in his voice. "He was one of the students rescued from the BAaT Training Academy. There was an …. incident with an abusive professor."

"An incident?" Sparatus asked incredulously.

Valern nodded. "New to biotics. Not used to power of amp. Emotional. Tired. Overworked. Abused. Uncontrolled outburst of biotic energy. Killed turian trainer. Unfortunate. Regrettable." Valern adjusted her collar. "But . . . displayed strong biotics."

Sparatus looked torn. Anderson gathered that he probably wanted to protest, but didn't know how to do so without seeming insensitive, especially since it seemed he skipped preparing for this meeting. But since when does Sparatus care about seeming insensitive? Not for the first time, Anderson wondered what happened behind the closed doors of the Council Chambers.

Morlon took Sparatus's silence as permission to answer the question. "I have no concerns about Alenko's ability to perform well on these missions. His tech skills are more than solid. As for his emotional stability, no concerns there, either. He's very patient. Controlled. Never seen him lose his temper."

Jassal spoke up for the first time. "I can also attest to Alenko's emotional maturity. He handles some of our more . . . difficult . . . flight students easily."

There was a faint smile on her face, and Anderson would have bet anything he knew exactly which flight student she was thinking about.

Anderson spoke next. "All I can do is agree with what's been said about Alenko and Wrex. Both very strong, and very capable. I have no concerns about how well they can do their jobs." He took a sip of water. "I can also personally attest for Ashley Williams and her skills. She's a strong soldier, and a smart one. She'd be an asset to any team, and an especially good one for this team. They've been training together for the past few months. They work well together."

Tevos turned and shared a look with Valern. Valern must have signaled his agreement, because Tevos turned, gave Sparatus the briefest of glances, and then spoke.

"The Council agrees that Shepard's suggestion has merit. Given the lack of reliable intel, students Kaidan Alenko, Urdnot Wrex, and Ashley Williams will be permitted to accompany students Azri Shepard, Garrus Vakarian, and Tali'Zorah vas Neema on this mission.

Shannara spoke first. "Does this mean that these students are now also being considered for Spectre training?"

"No," Sparatus said forcefully.

"Not at this time," Tevos said placatingly. "But perhaps in the future. Are there any other concerns?

"Will they be ready to leave on short notice? They are scheduled to leave in 14 standard hours," Morlon asked.

"They'll be ready," Anderson said confidently. They waited, as if expecting him to elaborate, but he did not. In truth, he had tipped his other students off about the possibility of them joining Shepard's crew and warned them to be ready. Highly practical, in Anderson's mind, but to the Council, it might seem like hubris. First rule of diplomacy, Anderson thought. Don't answer questions that aren't asked.

Upon realizing that Anderson wasn't planning on elaborating, Tevos nodded. "If there are no further concerns, then I believe –"

"Wait." Anderson spoke quickly now. "There are seven people traveling now. They're going to need a larger ship than the Iwo Jima."

Tevos startled a bit, as though she had not considered that before.

"Seven people could travel aboard the Iwo Jima without any –"

"Seven people, plus their armor, weapons, and equipment. And the Matano system is two days of travel away – they'll need adequate sleeping quarters."

Tevos frowned slightly, but didn't say anything. She's not convinced yet.

"This is training, sure. But it's also real. They don't know for sure what they're going into, and neither do we." Anderson leaned forward slightly. "Councilor Tevos, you said earlier that this was a reconnaissance mission. Perhaps it's time to start treating the students like a reconnaissance team."

Tevos's features softened slightly at that. "It may be a moot discussion anyway. Is there even another appropriate ship available on such short notice?"

Professor Jassal spoke up. "I'm looking through the schedule for the docking bay now . . . . hm, it seems all ships currently on the space stay are booked for tomorrow - except for a few small stealth ships."

"A stealth ship might not be a bad idea. They could quietly assess the situation on the planet without alerting anyone to their positions," Morlon said quickly.

Valern stroked her chin. "Perhaps this would be a good chance to see how the Normandy performs in action."

Anderson somehow managed to keep his emotions from spreading across his face. This is even better than my best case scenario. The Normandy was a prototype designed as a collaboration between human and turian engineers. To call it sleek, fast and powerful would be an understatement.

Sparatus scoffed. "I think not! The Normandy is not one of your human ships. It-"

Anderson interrupted. "I believe the design is the result of collaboration between human and turian designers. So not one of your turian ships, either."

Sparatus ignored the barb. "Why is the Normandy not already in use?"

"It's a bit of an awkward size. The optimal setup would be a steady crew of under twenty, and we haven't found the right captain," Jassal explained easily.

"This is all a moot point," Sparatus spat. "The Normandy has far more power than your pilots would be acclimated to. I would not expect a human to be able to pilot this ship without much practice."

"Neither would I." Jassal spoke up. "You're correct, Councilor Sparatus. The Normandy's Drive Core is much too powerful for anyone, human or otherwise, to attempt to steer without practice. But - "

"Well, that settles the matter, then! You've said it yourself!"

"Councilor, please. As I said, it would be ludicrous for any pilot to attempt to fly the Normandy's Drive Core without practice. But Mr. Moreau has been practicing using the Tantalus Drive Core on FlightSim. He wrote the program for it himself. I've even been using his program to train our upper-level Flight students."

There was a beat of silence.

And the last bit of resistance comes crashing down . . . .now. Anderson was still reeling from the lucky turn this meeting had taken, but he played it straight, ever the cool politician.

"Ah." Tevos paused. "Well, I can't see any real reason to deny them access to the Normandy. It has been flight-tested extensively –"

Valern interjected here. "And! Enhanced stealth modes could be useful. Consider - technically reconnaissance mission. Stealth mode most productive if necessary."

"Well," Tevos said again, and then paused. It seemed even Sparatus couldn't think of any real complaints. "This should be interesting. In any event, I have one more matter that I'd like to bring to your attention. And a . . . . favor . . . to ask."

At this, Anderson raised an internal eyebrow. After all, it wasn't every day that a member of the Council asked a favor of you. "Please, I'm happy to aid in any way that I can."

There still seems to be the matter of Ms. Liara T'Soni. We still haven't . . . quite figured out what to do with her yet, especially since her research has been lost.

"And especially with this mission - I believe that Ms. T'Soni's experience with research could prove a useful asset to Shepard and her team."

Sparatus made a short barking laugh. "An asset? If you recall, she was captured on her last mission."

"I'm well aware," Tevos spat.

Shannara smirked. What I believe Councilor Tevos means is that the T'soni's are a powerful family on Thessia, and she's not looking forward to explaining why their youngest child is currently twiddling her thumbs instead of receiving the best training the GTA has to offer."

Tevos looked slightly more petulant, but she did not contradict Shannara's assessment. Instead, she ran a calming hand down her leftmost tentacle, and when she spoke again, her voice was less charged. "Shepard's last reports indicated that Ms. T'soni's biotics were quite powerful - she would not be a hindrance to the team should they face danger. And especially given the nature of this mission and its focus on researchers, I would also feel more comfortable if someone with a little more experience with off-world missions was present. For guidance."

Ah. A chaperone. Shepard's not going to like this at all. But . . . Anderson did some quick mental calculations - Shepard had gotten everything she wanted from this meeting, and even a few things she hadn't asked for. A politically convenient chaperone was hardly too steep a price to pay. Especially if it meant Tevos would owe him a favor.

Anderson agreed easily. "Yes, I can see how Ms. T'soni's expertise might prove invaluable." He paused, and then added, "I'm sure it'd be clear - to everyone - that she was doing important and useful work, and that her talents were being put to good use.

Tevos gave a small, grateful sigh of relief. "Then I will let her know that she can join the crew tomorrow morning. Thank you all. This meeting is adjourned."

Anderson closed out of the conference, then turned away from his vid conference screen and opened up his terminal to send a few emails to his students, who were likely waiting anxiously by their terminals for word from him. It was the last task he had to do at the end of a very, very long day, but it was the one he had most been looking forward to.

Funny how that works, sometimes.

The punching bag hung there, unyielding as iron. As she unleashed a torrent of energy in the form of punches and kicks, she recognized that her form was probably terrible. But this – whatever it was – wasn't about form, or technique, or practice.

It was release, pure and simple.

She kept up the onslaught, almost hearing the fibers of her muscles ripping apart as she threw herself against the bag. Sweat ran in rivulets down the grooves of her forehead and into her eyes, but she did not care. It was worth it.

For these few moments, her mind would be blessedly empty, incapable of focusing on anything but the punching bag and the pain darting up her arm and the salt stinging her eyes.

A thought threatened the edges of the cocoon of peace she had crafted for herself. She angrily pushed at it, but not before it had wormed its way in, taking hold. With a sigh, she stilled the bag and rested her forehead against it.

Now that she was no longer making the effort to keep her mind clear, the thoughts came flooding back, each one more painful than the last.

It won't matter. You'll never get to go. Never.

They're right, you know. You're just setting yourself up to be disappointed.

You should be upset with Anderson. He shouldn't have told you. Having hope just makes it worse.

Especially when it's false hope.

It was at that moment that her Omni-tool chimed. She grabbed for it without thinking, and then everything was still. An unread message sat in her private terminal.

From Anderson.

She inhaled deeply, steeling herself for the disappointment that was sure to come, and reached out a shaky hand to open the message.

Her eyes widened as she read. She shook her head disbelievingly, sure that she was reading it wrong, sure that someone, somewhere had made a mistake, sure that at any moment the cold, cruel truth would come crashing down to laugh at her for daring to hope.

The cacophony of voices in her head had quieted, leaving only a small, frail whisper.

I get to go?

She reread the message once, twice, three times – each time noticing that the words on the screen did not change, each time confirming that she had not misunderstood.

"I get to go," she repeated aloud, but her throat closed over the words.

For the first time in years, Ashley Williams fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands, and wept.

Kaidan was many things, but above all else, he was a pragmatist. He knew the Council wouldn't throw resources at some pipe dream of Shepard's without it being basically assured of success.

And even besides that, he could fucking count. It was easy:

Shepard - 1. Ashley - 2. Himself - 3.

He was no cynic, but he knew that the odds of 2 humans, let alone 3 humans being considered for off-world missions with Spectres-in-training were miniscule at best.

Miniscule, he thought. Now that's optimistic. More like . . . non-existent.

Kaidan put aside as much of his emotion as he could. That means my competition - he grimaced at the thought of Shep and Ash as his competition - my competition consists of the two people ranked #1 and #2 in combat training on the station.

When he put it to himself that way, the answer felt inevitable. Who would you pick, Alenko? Hm? Two of the station's best soldiers? Or the guy who accidentally killed someone in a biotics-induced rage?

He sighed. Forget Spectre missions, there's no way you're getting off this station with that record anytime soon.

Despite his best efforts, he felt his emotions start to bubble up underneath his skin - anger, frustration, and just a hint of despair.

No. NO! No. Deep breaths, Alenko. Stay in control. Stay. in. control.

He took a deep breath and began to recite the litany that he'd taught himself.

I am better than my past.

I am more than my mistakes.

I am better than what they made me.

I am in control.

He opened his eyes and began an exercise of dexterity and control, partially to sooth his ragged nerves, but partially to keep his anxieties and despair from worming any further into the crevices of his mind .

He laid back on the armchair in his room and used his biotics to levitate a ribbon about a foot away from his face. He concentrated on slimming down the mass effect fields as much as possible and making them as targeted as possible. Instead of one large, amorphous mass effect field, he now had to retain control of numerous smaller ones, and individually manipulate each of them to achieve the most delicate of results.

The goal was to tie the ribbon into a knot using only his biotics - no hands allowed. It reminded Kaidan a little of trying to tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue right after a particularly nasty trip to the dentist.

It required intense concentration, and so Kaidan couldn't afford to let his frustration and his longing distract him. Instead he focused on shrinking his mass effect fields as much as possible, and then on thread on end of the ribbon into the loop created by the other end.

The ribbon wavered and threatened to fall as Kaidan's mind began to wander to the single bead of sweat that had appeared on his forehead and that threatening to run down into his eyelid.

No. Clear your head.

But if it falls it my eye -

Yes. It will hurt. There will be pain. And you will conquer it.

He calmed himself again, and this time, was just able to move the edge of the ribbon in place for a knot. Being supremely careful not to ruin the knot (and not to rip the ribbon into shreds), he called one final mass effect field to tug the ribbon into place and to secure the knot.

Just a little more . . . Just . .THERE!

The knot fell into place. Instead of dropping all of the fields (as his muscles were desperately screaming for him to do), Kaidan vanished the fields one by one, in reverse order. He used the last field to guide the ribbon, neatly tied into a knot, into his outstretched palm. Only then did he allow himself to relax.

Control. You have it. You've earned it. Spectre mission or no. . . .you've earned control.

He completed the last part of his litany.

I am the author of my story.

I am the captain of my own ship.

I cannot control the tides of fate.

I can only control myself.

That is enough.

He took a deep breath in and did a brief mental check. His earlier emotions were still there, but packaged away in neat little boxes that he could compartmentalize and look at through his objective lens.

He checked his watch - 2 minutes, 12 seconds.

Shit, almost twice as long as it usually takes.

See, his inner voice told him. See? Think of all that could've happened in that time, while you're still waiting to regain control. Someone could die. Someone *did* die.

There will be other chances. You weren't ready for this one anyway.

He had just finished that thought when his Omni-tool pinged. It was a message from Anderson.

Kaidan read it and his eyes widened.

Oh.

OH.

…

Oh shit.

Liara was not, as they say, a happy camper. Far from it, in fact.

And worst of all, it seemed as though no one cared even one iota about her distress.

No one had even really talked to her since she'd gotten back to the GTA, just barked instructions at her or talked over her or ignored her. It was infuriating, and in her frustration, Liara shook the blouse she was folding a little more vigorously than was strictly necessary. She then all but threw it into her suitcase, and looked around her room for anything else she'd need to pack.

Her room was largely barren, as if it hadn't been lived in in years, which, of course, it hadn't.

It also hadn't even begun to feel like home again. It couldn't - the things that made home feel like home were all back on Therum -

Don't - Don't think about Therum right now.

She took a deep breath, shook out a pair of pants, and then folded them along their edges, crispy and neatly.

It's not FAIR, her brain protested. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to.

After she'd gotten back to the GTA, all of her work had been classified - she hadn't been able to access her files, let alone publish them. When she'd screamed that she was going to need to publish in order to earn her doctorate, they simply . . . given it to her.

With absolutely zero fanfare (and zero satisfaction), Dr. Liara T'Soni become the youngest asari doctorate in GTA history.

And then they'd gone right back to the interrogation. That was the other thing, they were treating her like some sort of criminal, instead of like a researcher who'd been trapped in a biotic prison for four weeks! She shuddered to remember all the questions they'd been asking her. It had been a grueling, draining process. They'd picked her brains for hours and hours - she'd performed mindmelds upon request for hours and hours. They had not been gentle, rifling through her mind and memories, searching for clues of goddess-knows-what, and then acting like it was her fault that they hadn't found . . . whatever it was they were looking for.

And then, after all that, they'd told her that she could never speak of it again to anyone, and that she'd have to find something else besides Protheans to study.

Find a new project. As if it's like finding a new book, or a new lover, or a new . . . . pet fish! She unfolded, shook out, and then refolded a blouse.

Go to school, they'd said.

You'll have control over your life, they'd said.

No one can take your education from you, they'd said.

"Well, fat lot of good that's done me!", Liara breathed softly. "Apparently my education can be snatched from me without so much as a 'By your leave, Ms. T'soni.' "

Ah, it's Dr. T'Soni now. That was going to take some getting used to.

Going back to research now . . . .She tested the thought but found the wounds a little bit too raw and too painful. Maybe not quite yet. She still loved the thrill of discovery and the power of knowledge, but maybe a break wouldn't be so bad after all.

It was at that moment that her Omni-tool dinged with a message from Councilor Tevos.

My dearest Liara,

Good news! I spoke of my plans to have you act as a consultant for the GTA Spectre candidate students. They are confident that your skills and expertise will be of the utmost importance during this mission. Your role is an important one, and one which I am sure will be an excellent use of your many talents. Please report to the docking bay at 0500 hours tomorrow morning.

Oh, do be a dear and give your mother a ring to let her know what you're doing now, and how happy and excited you are? I'm sure she'd love to hear from you.

Liara read the note twice. Call my mother? And give her something to brag about to her socialite friends? The woman hadn't even bothered to come and visit her after hearing that she was still alive. She'd barely written a note.

But Liara was nothing if not a dutiful daughter. She dictated a quick message to her mother.

Hello Mummy,

Off to do some work consulting with the Spectre Program at the GTA. Probably out for a week or so with this mission, but perhaps afterwards I could come to visit you in the aleceata on Thessia? It would be good to celebrate receiving my doctorate with you.

I've missed you.

Liara

Uncharacteristically, the reply came almost at once.

Ah! Liara! How so very lovely to hear from you, darling. What exciting things you're doing. Spectre work - my!

'Fraid not on the visit, darling - I'll be off visiting some friends on Ilium. You're more than welcome to stay in the aleceata, of course, although it might be a shade empty.

(Just like it was growing up, Liara couldn't help but notice.)

We'll have to catch up some other time. So pleased to hear you're doing well!

Benezia

When Councilor Tevos had suggested she spend some time chaperoning and consulting for the Spectre Training Program, she'd said yes without giving it much thought.

But now that it was real, and happening tomorrow, she had to think about it a bit more. It meant that she'd have a chance for some real action. It meant that she'd have a chance to be incredibly useful. It meant that should could put that brain of hers to good use, and perhaps save some lives. And also . . . .

It meant spending more time with Shepard.

A deep blue spread across her cheeks as she remembered that she hadn't exactly made the most powerful impression on Shepard the last time they'd been together - a vision of Shepard hand-feeding her ration bars in the medical bay sprung unhelpfully to the forefront of Liara's mind - but she'd do better this time.

She punctuated that last thought with an extra firm shake of the GTA blouse she was folding. She looked down at her hands and realized that she'd been packing and unpacking the same 5 outfits for what must have been the past 10 minutes.

I thought . . .I thought I'd had more clothes that this.

You did. You just left them back in your quarters on Therum, which are almost certainly covered in lava right now.

Shaking away the uncomfortable though, Liara moved her meticulously packed suitcase off of her bed, and then lay down on top of it, face-up.

Tomorrow . . . . Tomorrow is a new day. A new day, and a new Liara.

Satisfied, she rolled to her side, and closed her eyes.

Sleep did not come easily.

Shepard was the first one in the hangar the next morning, and was slightly puzzled that Joker wasn't there, too. She'd stopped by his room earlier that morning to walk with him to the hangar, but he hadn't answered when she'd knocked. A stab of irritation pierced through Shepard, but at what, exactly, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the fact that it seemed almost impossible to find any time at all to spend with her new boyfriend (was he her boyfriend?). Between the rush of classes, missions, her CombatSims and his FlightSims – there was hardly any time at all.

She quieted the anxiety and attempted to steel her ragged nerves. They were nowhere near as frazzled as they had been before her first mission, but they were still there. Especially since this was the first mission that felt like it might have any element of real danger.

The hangar was as empty of ships as it was of people, and so it was fairly easy to find the Docking Bay for the Normandy. The news of a new, stealth ship had been a pleasant surprise, but she was still unprepared for actually laying eyes on the ship for the first time. As she drew closer to the docking bay, she heard a string of frustrated muttering. It was Liara, becoming increasingly frustrated as she pressed her hand to the Control Panel to gain access to the ship, but it remained an unyielding red.

"Liara!" Her voice was simultaneously incredulous and disbelieving.

"Hello, Shepard." Liara's voice was calm and musical, as it generally always was.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I am attempting to access the ship." Liara's cheeks turned deep blue. "The Council thought that my talents and expertise might be useful for your upcoming mission. You are investigating researchers, are you not?"

Shepard's earlier tempered annoyance flared again, and it must have shown on her face, because the azure on Liara's cheeks deepened.

"In truth, I would be glad to have something to do. I do not believe that my old graduate group has figured out what to do with me yet. Since I have no research."

Shepard's annoyance diffused immediately, and she even felt a little guilty for having let her temper snap at Liara, even though she got the distinct impression that Liara was there to act as chaperone for the Council more than anything else. "I'm sorry, Liara. They're right, a biotic with your strength and focus could definitely come in handy. I'm glad to have you on board, I just wish I knew about it earlier."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I myself was only approached about the opportunity last night."

Shepard nodded. "What research have you been doing? Since you've gotten back from Therum?"

"Not very much," Liara replied. "After the endless meetings, I tried going back to research and tried to recreate as much of my notes as I could. It was not much at all, and all of it would be completely inadmissible to use in publication." She trailed off at the end. "This would not be the first time I've wished for a drell's eidetic memory. Perfect recall."

Shepard nodded her head sympathetically, all the while privately thinking that a powerful asari biotic with the memory of a drell might be the most unstoppable force in the known universe.

"You'll have to wait a bit to access the ship. Only the pilot can release it from the Docking Bay." Shepard looked around to see if she could spot Joker. She looked up and saw him heading this way, followed by the rest of the crew, Captain Anderson, and a few faces she didn't recognize. She felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw Joker, and he returned her shy smile with one of his own.

"This ship, huh?" Joker looked almost itching to get into the cockpit.

The Normandy was beautiful. Shepard knew next to nothing about ship design, but even she could tell that the Normandy was a beautiful ship. It was smooth and sleek, and simply looked faster and more polished than the Iwo Jima had. From the look of unadulterated joy on Joker's face, her assessment was correct.

"I assume she flies as well as she looks?"

"Better," Joker answered her decisively.

"You've flown her already?"

"I mean, not technically. They called me up last night, told me we were switching ships. I got the specs for the ship, did a few test runs on FlightSim last night. Flies prettier than any ship I've ever even seen before."

"It's the best ship we could have asked for, Shepard." Tali said. "The cloaking itself will make the surveillance so much simpler –"

"Wait wait wait. Cloaking? You telling me this ship is invisible?"

"Basically," Joker said. "We can completely mask our heat emissions for about 14 hours. If we stay radio silent too, the only way anyone else could see us is if they looked out their windows."

"And even then, they'd have to know where to look," Kaidan chimed in.

Anderson nodded. "Take a quick tour of the ship, meet the crew. Commander's quarters are one floor down.. Departure in one standard hour."

Tali turned to Shepard and nodded. "We've got a cook and a medic. Both students, but better than nothing. And horizontal sleeping quarters!"

Shepard introduced herself to the cook, an apprentice in one of the smaller cafeterias, and the medic, a recent medical graduate looking to specialize in emergency field medicine. Joker unlocked the ship, and everyone spread out to explore the ship.

On her way downstairs to check out the sleeping quarters, she passed Joker and Kaidan heading upstairs.

"I'll come see you in the cockpit later," she said to Joker in a low voice.

Yeah, see you tonight." He squeezed her hand, and then they both left to prepare for departure.

Joker was ecstatic.

This ship. This ship.

The Flight Sims with the Tantalus Drive Core had prepared him for the most necessary adjustments needed for safe and accurate piloting, but nothing - nothing - could have prepared him for the absolute power the Normandy had brimming below her surface.

The feeling had started as soon as he pulled the Normandy out of the Docking Bay. The ship had seemed to respond to his thoughts and his suggestions more than his instructions, and the ride was so sleek and smooth that he almost forgot that he was sitting in a chair in the cockpit. The pilot's chair itself was roomy and plush, closer to a swiveling armchair than the economical, barely cushioned office chairs found in most other cockpits. And the view. The windows were more than floor to ceiling - they stretched so far outside of his peripheral vision that it felt more akin to floating through space than flying a ship.

Joker was having another of those deeply personal, life-defining, forever memorable moments - no matter how many missions he went on, no matter how many ships he piloted, no matter how many fancy windows he peered out of, Joker would always remember his first time piloting the Normandy.

A loud voice brought him out of his reverie. "Ahhhh. Beautiful, isn't she?"

And there's the only downside.

Gone were the days of private cockpits and quiet, intimate hours alone with his thoughts (or alternatively, alone with Shepard).

Apparently ignoring the question, Joker reached out a hand to the holo-screen in front of him and absent-mindedly began to swipe through the screens, wishing harder than ever that he was alone.

"Should I take that as a no?" Kaidan said, with a slight grimace and shake of his head.

"What? Oh, sorry. I was just lost in thought." Joker said, quickly. "Not used to talking in the cockpit," he added, a bit more acerbically than he'd intended.

"Ah, yeah, I'm sure," Kaidan returned jauntily, as though he hadn't heard Joker's tone of voice.

It had all happened so fast. Joker had been going over some last-minute ship details with Anderson with just under an hour left before they were scheduled to depart.

"And you're aware of all fueling stations from here to the Matano system?"

"Yes, sir."

" And you're sure you're adequately prepared for that drive core?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Good man. Longer trip than any you've done before - who's your Ship Nav?"

Joker had just been about to tell him that he didn't need one, when -

"I am," said Kaidan-fuckin'-Alenko, his face as cool and impassive as Blasto in a firefight.

"Alright then. Bring her home safe." Anderson had turned on his heel and exited the docking bay before Joker had even had a chance to think of a protest, let alone voice one.

He turned to Kaidan, who was already entering the decontamination chamber to the Normandy. "I'm heading to crew quarters first - meet you in the cockpit in 10," Kaidan said, looking over his shoulder.

"No wait, I don't -"

But by then, the seal had formed on the decontamination chamber, and Kaidan was miming the universal "I can't hear you" sign.

And so, Joker had gotten stuck with a Ship Nav. Great. Just great.

The Ship Navigator was one step below a copilot - they never even touched the controls except in cases of emergencies. Their major function was to make sure that the pilot was functioning at capacity: triple and quadruple-checking their calculations, reminding the pilot about general ship upkeep, etc. Some shorter voyages didn't even bother with a Ship Nav, but on longer trips, Ship Navs were trained to monitor the ship while it was on autopilot so that the pilot could get some sleep.

Well, Joker wasn't going to need any calculations corrections and he certainly hadn't been planning on sleeping during this trip. But it seems he was stuck with a Ship Nav anyway.

In truth, having Kaidan as Ship Nav for this trip hadn't been entirely terrible - he was blessedly silent, and usually didn't fill the quiet with inane chatter. Joker could think of only one time when he'd been legitimately frustrated with Kaidan's presence: Shepard had come up for one of her unannounced visits, clearly expecting to plop herself down in the copilot's seat and shoot the shit with Joker for a few hours. The doors to the cockpit had given a hum and whooshed open. Shepard had sauntered in, and Joker's heart had leapt in his chest.

"Hey Joker, I was - Oh!" She'd leaned on the back of the copilot's chair, thinking it was empty, and had been quite surprised when it pushed back. "Hey, Kaidan."

"Hello, Shepard."

"Sorry about that. Didn't know this ship had a co-pilot," Shepard said.

"Ship Nav," Joker corrected quickly. And neither did I.

"Ah yes. Well I was, uh- just doing some rounds. Wasn't staying -" and with that, Joker's heart fell back to its normal home with a thunk of disappointment - " so just, uh, enjoy the view."

And then she'd left, leaving Joker to enjoy the most amazing view with his Ship Nav warming the copilot's chair instead of his Shepard.

Kaidan's voice interrupted his daydream again. "Coming up on a fuel depot in a couple of minutes - shall we stop and fuel?"

Joker felt a stab of annoyance at Kaidan.

"No. we'll be fine. No point in refueling before we get to the Matano system, since we'll have to do it then anyway."

"Gotcha," Kaidan said cheerfully, and then was silent again.

They got to the Matano system in about 3 hours. They'd refueled.

"Alright, we should just be drifting on autopilot for the next 14 hours. Do you want first shift?

Joker couldn't help but let out a loud, aggrieved sigh. "Yep," he said, popping the "p".

Kaidan looked at him quizzically. "Joker, you know as well as I do that any flight over 2 days long requires a Ship Navigator."

Joker rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but-"

"So the question wasn't whether you'd have a Ship Nav, just about who that Ship Nav would be.

Joker didn't have anything to say there, but he was still annoyed.

"So. If I hadn't saved your ass, you would have absolutely gotten stuck with a Ship Nav who was absolutely not as cool as I am. Who would talk. A lot." He raised an eyebrow. "And who would be way more stringent about chaperoning who can be in the cockpit during off-hours." He looked meaningfully at Joker.

Joker sat, feeling guilt spread across his face. Oh. Kaidan had engineered it so that Shepard could visit him in the cockpit, and he'd be able to spend some quiet, uninterrupted time with her.

Kaidan was being a fucking bro.

"Kaidan-"

He smiled. "All good, Joker."

"Thanks, Kaidan. And I'm sorry for -" Joker trailed off at the end, searching for words.

"Being a dick?" Kaidan supplied helpfully. "Yeah, you do that sometimes." He gave a rueful smile. "Maybe someday you'll trust your friends - trust me - more. Until then -"

He shrugged, got up from his seat, and gave Joker a hearty, yet gentle clap on the shoulder. Joker realized with a start that Kaidan was the only person (outside of Shepard) who'd willingly touched him in at least the past few weeks. And then, a few milliseconds later, he realized that he didn't mind Kaidan's touch at all.

Kaidan was almost out of the cockpit when Joker spun around and said "Really Kaidan, I'm sorry. I mean it. I don't apologize often, and I'm not good at it. But I get the feeling that apologies are warranted here. You're a better Ship Nav than I could've asked for."

"It's all good, Joker. Appreciate it, though. Switch out in a few hours?"

"Sounds good. See you later, Kaidan."

Immediately after Kaidan left, Joker sent a message to Shepard. "Hey you around? Ship's quiet and the cockpit is lonely." Joker had just started to feel self-conscious about not getting a response when the doors to the cockpit whirred open.

Shepard and Joker both breathed a long, simultaneous sigh of relief.

"Hey."

"Hey."

It's good to see you," he ventured carefully. "You look…. You look nice." And she did. She looked more dressed down that Joker had ever seen her, in loose gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that wasn't quite long enough, so he'd catch glimpses of her hard and muscular stomach as she moved.

He couldn't have said why, but it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

Shepard smiled. She sat in Kaidan's chair, and brought her knees to her chest and she tilted her head back and breathed deeply. When Joker looked over at her, her eyes were closed and her head tilted back. She just looked comfortable and at ease, and Joker felt a stab of pride. He loved that she wanted to come and be near him when she was at her most relaxed. She'd brought her datapad, and they stayed like that for a while. Not talking. Just sharing space.

Sometimes he felt her eyes on him, and he flushed at the thought.

After about half an hour, Shepard got up from her chair and walked over to his, and kneeled so that her voice was right next to his ear. "So, do you have a lot to do for the next few hours?"

Joker cleared his throat. "Nope. We're on autopilot. Shouldn't fall asleep or leave the cockpit, but I'm not busy."

"So…. is kissing the pilot allowed?", Shepard asked. Her voice was deep and throaty and full of promise, and it made sending shivers down Joker's spine. The last time he'd imagined kissing Shepard in the cockpit of his ship, the fantasy had grown progressively more lurid, culminating in the deliciously vivid mental image of a naked Shepard bent at the waist over the flight controls and loudly moaning Joker's name as she came on his cock. "Ah - Yes. Kissing the pilot is definitely allowed."

She smiled, then, and leaned over and kissed him on his jaw, trailing kisses to the corner of his mouth.

Joker inhaled deeply and his eyes fluttered closed at the touch of her lips on his face. He tilted his head back and reached for her again, but that angle was awkward and he couldn't quite kiss her as fully as he'd wanted to. He moved to get up from the pilot's chair, but Shepard laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back gently. "Stay," she said.

And then she moved slowly from the side of his chair to standing directly in front of him, in front of all the flight gidgets and gizmos, in front of the huge window that was currently showing nothing but the inky blackness of space.

She turned to face him, and lifted her right leg over both of his legs. She was straddling him, pinning him to his chair while keeping all the weight on her knees. Every time she touched him, it felt like an electric shock moving just under his skin. He wanted to lean into it and moan every time she touched him because it felt that good. It felt that good. "Is this okay?" she asked quietly.

Joker stared at her disbelievingly, his heart having leapt somewhere near his throat. He tried to speak, but his mouth was bone dry. He swallowed.

"Yes," he said. "Yeah, this is more than okay."

She relaxed a bit then, and shifted forward until the V of her legs was resting lightly against his lower thighs. Joker wanted to grab her to him and bury his face in the crook of her neck, but he was afraid that might break the spell - he wasn't sure what was happening here, but he knew for sure that he did not want it to end.

Shepard placed one hand on the back of his head and used her other hand to tilt his head back slightly. Then, she leaned forward, and gently pressed her lips against his.

It had only been three days, but Joker had already missed this immensely. Her lips were lovely and soft and firm and warm, warm just like the rest of her, including the parts of her that were resting on his thighs.

Shepard trailed the tip of her tongue over the sensitive areas of his lips and then deepened the kiss, sucking his full bottom lip into her mouth and biting it gently. Joker let out a deep, quiet groan that sounded like it came from his throat, but that actually originated from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere he hadn't fully explored yet.

He wanted more.

His hands had been dangling uselessly at his sides but they moved of their own volition now, cupping Shepard by the waist and pulling her body towards his. She obliged, and walked forward on her knees until her front was flush with his and she was sitting on his lap.

She kissed him again, more insistently this time, more hungrily, as if he were a fountain in the desert. Her hands traveled down from his hair and chin to roam appreciatively over his chest and arms. She moaned in his mouth and the moan traveled through his abdomen directly to his groin.

Blood rushed into his groin then too, and Joker felt his pants begin to tighten. He'd already been half-hard, ever since Shep had asked if she could kiss him, but now he felt himself getting fully hard against the insides of her legs. It was poking her, she must feel it, there was no way she could avoid feeling it against the warmth of her -

"Fuck," he hissed. "Oh fuck, Shep."

She broke the kiss and looked at him. Joker was breathing heavily, his cock fully hard and pressing directly into Shepard. She was very still for a brief moment, and then she slowly rocked her hips against his, purposefully rubbing against the unmistakable length of his very hard cock. Joker inhaled sharply and froze. Shepard's eyes widened, and her jaw went slightly slack. "Oh," she said. She locked eyes with him and rocked her hips against him for a second time. Joker let out a soft groan, and leaned back and fluttered his eyes closed as Shep rocked into him for a third time.

It felt good. Each movement of her hips had dragged up the length of his already-sensitive cock. He could feel her warmth even through their clothes, and each rock of her hips against his cock sent concentrated jolts of pleasure pooling into the pits of his abdomen and adding to the growing tension there. He groaned and threw his head back. "Shepard," he said. "Yes, fuck yes."

Hearing her name spilling from his mouth spurred Shepard back into action. She leaned forward again to kiss him, her hands on his biceps.

Joker's hands moved dup the back of her thighs until they were resting on the firm, fleshy, round globes of her ass.

"Joker," she gasped. "Oh, Joker.."

She'd thrown her head back now, and Joker could see the swell of her breasts through her shirt, and - dear God - and the peak of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked gently. Shepard gasped again and arched toward him, a stream of "yes" and "Joker" and incoherent moaning spilling from her mouth. She wasn't wearing a bra, so the only thing between his mouth and her nipple was a flimsy piece of shirt. Joker wanted so badly to flip up her shirt and put mouth directly on her nipples, but he was shy, and he couldn't even begin to imagine how he'd recover from the mortification if she told him to stop.

She wasn't stopping now, though. She was grinding against him vigorously, and Joker could have died happy then - everything smelled like Shepard and his mouth was full of Shepard and his cock was being rubbed by Shepard. He moaned against her nipple and teased it through her shirt with his tongue. She pulled away from him with a gasp, and Joker immediately missed the feel of her in his mouth, but then she leaned forward again and her mouth moved down his jaw to his neck. She kissed the skin there and sucked gently, and then not-so-gently, leaving wet, hot, sloppy kisses down his neck.

Joker's hands tightened on her ass as she kissed his neck and kept grinding against him. "Yes," he moaned. "God yes. Shep, that feels so good."

He was panting in time with her thrusts against him. His eyes flew open as he suddenly became aware of everything happening at that moment. Shepard, his Shepard, was kissing his neck and riding against his cock in his fucking pilot's chair in the cockpit of the most beautiful ship he'd ever seen. She was panting against him now, with each rock of her hips dragging deliciously against the underside of his cock. And the best part, he realized with a thrill, was he hadn't even asked her to. She was straddling him in his cockpit and kissing his neck and dragging her nipples against his chest and riding him. And she was doing it for no other reason than because she fucking wanted to.

It was too much. All too soon, Joker felt a familiar tightening in his balls, with each thrust of her hips driving him closer to release. So good. So fucking -

"Shepard," he panted. "Oh fuck, Shepard, I'm gonna -"

And he did. It had all happened so fast and too soon, Joker couldn't have stopped it even if he'd had the presence of mind to try. So he held onto Shepard as pleasure tore through him, down his spine, into his balls, and out through his spurting cock. He moaned, each thrust of Shepard against him heightening and extending his pleasure until there was a growing pool of warm wetness in his briefs.

Shepard's eyes widened as she realized what she was witnessing. She watched him hungrily, all the while still rocking her hips against his in the most perfect rhythm Joker had ever imagined.

When the last aftershocks had subsided, Joker let out the deep ragged breath he'd been holding and roughly rubbed the palm of his hand over his face as Shepard returned to gently kissing his jaw and neck. "Shepard."

Shepard still hadn't spoken. "Shepard," he said again, and pushed her back gently so that he could look her in the eyes.

"Shepard, that was…." But he stopped when he saw the look of unbridled intensity and desire in her eyes. She was looking at him like that, like there was nothing else she'd rather be doing than grinding against him in his cockpit and making him come in his pants.

"Shit. My pants."

It was those words that seemed to snap Shepard back to reality. Her eyes widened. "Did you - Did I- Did you just have an-?"

Joker's face was red now too - he'd come in his pants in about three minutes, without even any direct contact from Shepard. Not a great advertisement for my stamina. "I told you it felt good," he muttered.

"Oh," she said breathily, and then licked her lips. "Oh." She climbed carefully off of him and ran her hands down her front, smoothing out her shirt. "I should go to bed."

"Wait." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but - "Shepard, I can't leave this room."

She nodded. "No, I know." Her eyes were still dark.

She was still aroused. His breath had evened out, but she was breathing heavily. Her nipples were still rock hard and straining against her thin white t-shirt, and her lips were still slick and swollen from all the kissing. Joker wasn't sure, but he thought if he were brave enough, he could reach out and find another set of slick and swollen lips begging to be touched and teased and licked.

He wanted to help, he wanted to help so badly but he didn't know what to say. He tried anyway.

"That felt… good," he said, then inwardly winced with how inadequate that sounded. "So damn good, Shepard." His mouth was full of cotton again, but he tried. "Someday, someday soon, when I'm not responsible for flying this ship, I want," he swallowed. "I want to return the favor."

Her eyes widened again, and a small smile curved on her lips. "Goodnight, Joker."

Joker sat back down in his pilot's chair, now feeling sated and relaxed, but also uncomfortably sticky.

Because of Shepard.

He tried to commit everything to memory - the feel of her body as she pressed flush against him, the weight of her against his cock, the feel of her nipples on his chest, the look of lust and desire on her face as she rocked against him. He shuddered and he felt his heart do a little flip in his chest.

Fuck.

Author's Notes

To anyone who's still reading this fic:

Thank you.

I know it's been quite a while since my last update, but this fic is always on my mind. I do have big plans for it, and I'm re-energized about writing and finishing it, even if I'm the only person who wants to read it.

I'm definitely in need of a beta/sounding board. If you're interested , I'd love to talk things over with you and bounce my ideas for this story off of you.

Thank you for being here, and reading this far.

Much love.

- Muffin