The ship was dark with emergency lighting on. At night, they always ran dark. Most of the crew were asleep and there was no need for excessive power use. Not that they were really saving energy or doing anything very "go green, save the planet".

In spite of all that, though, the CIC was still lit up like a Christmas tree. The consoles glowed orange and the galactic map sparkled with systems so small they looked like stars. The holo of the ship at the heart of the Center brightened the place without the overheads, and, even with all that, red runner lights still dotted the pathways.

"Weird…" Joker muttered out loud as he made his way down the bridge.

"What is?" EDI asked.

"All the lights in here," he replied.

"I do not follow."

"What's with these runners even though all the consoles are up?" That was just for starters. He wasn't even going to get into the rant about why every damn station had to be on; active, sure… but on?

"The emergency runner lights will remain functioning in case of power generator failure. They never go out."

Joker waved off the omniscient voice as he shuffled toward the elevator. He reminded himself to stop thinking out loud about stupid things—or stop thinking about them altogether.

When the elevator arrived to the crew deck, Joker rounded the corner into the mess and was surprised to realize he wasn't alone.

"Commander?" he asked. "What're you doing down here? Shouldn't you be in bed, storing up energy for that save-the-world thing we got going on?"

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, working at the counter. He leaned onto the surface and investigated what she was doing.

She was chopping a couple of apples into slices and piling them on a plate. She went to toss the core of the first apple, but Joker's protests stopped her.

"Nuh-nuh-nuh," he exclaimed, lunging to grab it. She passed it to him, confused. "There's plenty of apple left on this. Don't just throw it out." He munched around the core as she shook her head.

"I didn't exactly plan on someone coming down here to clean up after me…"

"Well, for future reference…" he mumbled, still nibbling, and motioned to himself.

When she'd finished chopping the second apple, she handed him the leftovers and then pulled out a jar of peanut butter, scooping out a huge glob onto her plate. He dropped the salvaged cores into the trash can.

"What are you doing?"

"Apple slices and peanut butter," she explained, flicking her eyes up at him as she pushed the rest of the spread out of the spoon. He fought to keep his jaw from dropping when she lifted her finger to her lips and licked the rest of it off.

"That's…"—so hot—"disgusting—apples and peanut butter? What the hell?"

She grinned and dropped the spoon into the sink, licked her finger one last time, and carried the plate over to the table.

"Have you tried it, Joker?"

"Well, no," he replied, following her to the table and taking a seat beside her.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it."

He made a face.

"Well, see, I actually came down here for some coffee…" he mumbled, watching her dip a slice in the spread and take a bite. "I don't think the two will mix."

She sucked the apple juice off her index and thumb as she stood up; she tapped his shoulder.

"Try a piece. There's no more coffee, so by the time a new pot's done brewing, the taste will be out of your mouth."

He watched her return to Gardner's empty post, slip a new paper in the filter, and scooped eyeballed measurements of grounds into the machine. She poured the water, set the brew strength to strong, and returned to him.

Her cool, blue eyes looked like crystalline blueberries and her long, red hair waved and draped like velvet curtains—heavy, thick, full of volume—around her shoulders and down her back. Her curves were proportionate and body well-toned with smooth, clear skin. She was so damn beautiful.

Joker fiddled with an apple slice, pretending he'd been considering her suggestion the whole time instead of watching her.

"You sure about this?" he asked stupidly, trying to mask his thoughts of adoration with skepticism.

"Just try it," she insisted, stifling a chuckle with another bite of her snack. He gave in, dipped the slice in peanut butter, and took a bite. "Well?"

"Those are two flavors that shouldn't be mixed," he complained. "I don't know how you eat this. It's nowhere near good."

Her only response was laughter and the shrug of one shoulder as she took another bite. In spite of his expressed dislike, however, he continued to pluck apples off the place, scoop up some peanut butter, and eat them. She didn't mention it, which was a relief for his tender pride. They sat there quietly while the coffee maker sputtered behind them, slowly filling the pot with dark drips of Citadel Select – Columbian Dark. Apparently, human coffee still had roots on earth.

The silence made him nervous when it was just the two of them, probably because it didn't happen all too often. At the very least, EDI was there; well, EDI was there then, technically, but less evident. Remember, you're not thinking about stupid technicalities anymore, his inner self told him. Oh right.

Joker casually snuck glances at her as they ate, loving the movement of her lips around the apple slices, of her tongue around her fingertips whenever she got peanut butter on them; sure, there was sexuality in his Joker-Vision, but it wasn't all perverted. He thought she was adorable, snacking in the middle of the night. And the snack? Cute. But why? If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have given it a second thought.

He inconspicuously dropped his gaze to her exposed shoulders, at the cotton, blue camo tank top she wore. No bra… he noted. Her dog tags hung between her breasts and jingled whenever she shifted in her chair. He grabbed another bite of apple and snuck another look, inspecting her tiny black shorts and long, athletic legs. Oh god, you're hot… I wonder what kind of underwear you're wearing under those things…

"What do you know about on-ship scandal?" she asked suddenly and he snapped his gaze up to hers.

"Say what?" he stammered. Does she know? Did she see me checking her out? he wondered. Maybe… she's interested? No, no, that can't be it. Could it? Oh god, please be it.

"Kasumi says a girl in navigation thinks she might be pregnant," Shepard explained. Not it, he thought glumly.

"Wasn't me," he confirmed. She gave him a look, but there was a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth.

"Not what I meant but, uh, good to know." She leaned back in her chair, taking a break from the nearly finished plate.

"Does it matter? You looking to find the culprit and commence some punishment?"

"No," she replied. "I don't know who it is and I don't really care. I just thought it was pretty remarkable. People always find a way, huh? There's no real privacy anywhere on the ship and, yet, a girl is pregnant. Is there some code among the crew that I don't know about?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna be the one to give it away, but…" he joked. "And besides, Commander, that whole 'no privacy' thing? Not so. You've got your own room away from everyone else. I have the cockpit. Everyone else is screwed so, hell, why not have a way to say the engine room's el occupado?"

"Wait," Shepard said, leaning forward and, unknowingly, giving him a good shot of cleavage. Just a little further… "The cockpit's never sealed. What privacy do you have up there?"

"Just because you never see it sealed, doesn't mean the door doesn't work. I can close and lock it whenever I want."

"Joker…" She narrowed her gaze on him, silently communicating that he should never, ever seal the cockpit.

"No worries, Commander," he mused, finishing off her plate of apples. "I'd never lock you out. In, maybe. But out? Never."

"What do you do in there by yourself, anyway?

He leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes linger on hers.

"Really?" he asked, a little resentful. "C'mon, Commander, I'm a cripple, so it's not like I'm reserving the engine room."

"You're the only one who thinks of you that way," she replied casually, and then stood. He watched her—dumbfounded—cross over to the kitchen, pour a cup of coffee, and then cast her blueberry eyes in his direction. "Cream, sugar, or both?"

"Black," he replied, gawking a little. She doesn't think of me… as a cripple? he thought. Does that mean she sees me as a man? Not just a person who happens to be male, but as a sexually capable man? As a potential partner? "What does that mean?" He had to know. He stood up as she brought his coffee to him.

"You think you can't block a time slot in the engine room because no one is interested in a cripple," she said, "but no one sees you that way but you. Maybe if you stopped focusing on how you think people perceive you and how you want them to perceive you, you'll stop being such a cynic when you get what you want."

He was blown away by her bluntness and honesty. Sure, she'd always been a sincere person, but this was a whole new level to their friendship. His fingers curled around the mug, brushing hers as he took it from her.

"Well, there's really only one perception I aim to please," he informed her. "There's really only one thing I want."

Shepard intercepted his meaning, he hoped, because her lips parted just barely and her eyes darted from one of his green orbs to the other and back again in assessment.

"It's good to have goals," she finally said, voice hushed, and then cleared her throat. "Well, I'm not condoning distraction on my ship," she warned playfully. "We still have a mission. So," she backed toward the elevator and he followed.

"I know, I know," he reassured her, offering a roguishly charming smirk as he punched the elevator button for the CIC. "I promise, no scandalous affairs when you aren't looking." Cause whatever scandal I get into, it's going to be with you.

"You're a real shining example, aren't you, Joker?"

"The shiniest."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The elevator dinged and he stepped out.

"Goodnight, Commander," he said. "Don't stay up too late." He sipped his coffee as he put his back to her, retreating to the cockpit. God, what a night, he thought. There was hope for him, after all. How many of the crew could actually claim to have shared apple slices and peanut butter with Saia Shepard, the galaxy's number one hero?