Author's note: I have been working on this for weeeeks. I hated everything about the original, but now I'm happy with it enough to drop it on the community. This was also written for kmeme, I can't remember the exact prompt but they wanted a show down after purgatory, and I'm here to provide. Though I did want to take this further, so while it's M rated, this chapter isn't. It'll turn into a full length fic eventually. So yeaaah. ALSO, dialogue featured in this is also featured in some of my artwork on tumblr. So if it sounds familiar to you, it's because I'm also that artist.
I own nothing, I claim nothing. Mass Effect is the work and property of others not myself.

Edit: Found the duplicate paragraph! Fixed other small things.
As for reviews thus far, thank you! Chapter 2 will be on its way!

Can I change your mind
"So if the answer is no, can I change your mind?"

Joker eyes darted about the dark club, trying to look anywhere but his Commander, but he failed miserably.

His mind was still reeling from her instigation, too numb to process anything more than the sight of her leaving his side to join Vega and a handful of marines at the opposite end of the bar. The same marines he'd pointed out to her just seconds ago before she'd dropped the proverbial bomb. No, he wasn't ready to begin processing that yet, that hadn't really happened. Nah, he'd just drunkenly imagined his commander poorly coming onto him in a dingy corner of a night club. He had totally just hallucinated that disappointed expression on her face as she'd stalked off, the way her hands clung to the insides of her jumper pockets.

He'd suggested the jumper, not the jumper exactly per se but the sentiment. And that's what counts, right? But he hadn't expected her to wear it. And she filled it out just like he imagined she would when EDI sent him the confirmation email, picture and all. That boxy shape, zipped halfway down, drowning in shapeless, unsexy folds.

Yes it was exactly what he'd pictured the Commander to look like in the unisex piece, what he hadn't foreseen was just how much he liked it.

He quickly caught himself staring at her reflection in the bottles adorning the walls just behind the bar. Bits of black and red flashed back and forth as she spoke with Vega. She didn't have any trouble talking to the opposite sex he thought, bitterly. She made everything she did look so effortless. He scoffed into his glass, drinking down a large mouthful of the tasteless swill that passed for a beer on this station. Joker tried to block it all out, particularly the parts where he'd mentioned alternate realities, what had he been thinking? Fixating on the glass in his hand he tried to think of something else, Earth then. The one thing he missed about Earth had been the beer; there was nothing more manly than that right?

His thoughts began rewinding back to several weeks ago before the shit hit the fan.

It'd become something of a weekly ritual for him back on their home planet, Vega would visit the hangar when his shift ended, and Joker's handlers would release him from his liaison duties with EDI and the Normandy, every Thursday like clockwork. They'd hit the bar just down the street, some trashy hole that would make the Afterlife blush. In exchange for a round of drinks, Joker would entertain the marine with exciting tales of the Normandy's exploits, all his daring rescues, everytime Shepard walked through the airlock with a bloody nose slung over someone's shoulder. Vega had been intrigued by his retelling of the Collector's attack, and by Jack, the biotic. Something about her being his kind of woman. The man was crazy, but the good kind who knew how to take a bit of abuse.

It was there in that dark booth that Joker was finally confronted by the marine about Shepard. It had been an awkward night and an even rougher week, the bar was empty for the most part and the liquor that sat between them scarcely made it to their empty glasses without a little of it ending up on the table. It wasn't like Joker to get blind drunk, but he'd had a helluva time back on base. He was finding it difficult to work on the Normandy while being treated both like a fragile flower, and a crazed madman who shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a star ship. Between asking him every half hour if he'd be more comfortable sitting somewhere else, or just plain leaving, he'd had it. And so there he was with his crutches in the seat next to him, drinking down some amber liquid that smelled a bit like turpentine. Drunkenly the marine sniffed indignantly, leaning forward into the table.

"You know she asked for you again today."

"Sorry?" Joker asked, obviously distracted.

"The Commander, Ace."

Joker looked up, the rings under his eyes from a lack of sleep, anxiety, and now inebriation slid unfocused from Vega to the glass the latter had started to fill.

"The Commander?"

"Yeah, she was real worried about you too when we landed. Said not to arrest you too, but they had no choice, right? She was relieved when I let her know there were no charges. For being a rumoured badass, she sure worries a lot. It wasn't what I'd expected."

Joker hadn't known what to think about that, at first it annoyed him that the Commander was wasting her time in the detention center worrying about everything besides her own trial, though now that he was privy to the bit about her worrying about him his stomach did a bit of a weak flip flop. He slammed the bitter liquid down, hissing through his teeth. When he didn't respond right away Vega had continued, pouring the pair another shot.

"Right, they started letting her have visitors about a month and a half ago, no one has dropped by save a few soldiers. Asked me why you haven't dropped in."

Joker balked, the glass raised halfway to his open mouth, but he couldn't finish the action. Slowly he'd lowered the glass to the table letting that tidbit sink in. It wasn't news to him that Shepard was allowed visitors; it had just been his choice not to go. He still hadn't gotten over what'd happened in the Bahak System. A part of that had been related to the sheer death toll, a more wounded, quivering, shameful part of him knew it had to do with her sneaking off on her own without debriefing or telling anyone about it, then falling off the grid for 2 days. When the shuttle arrived back on the Normandy he chewed out the pilot responsible for the drop, alarmed when he'd heard that there was a good chance the Commander had left the prison aboard an unmarked transport ship and from there just vanished.

It'd meant a lot of extra digging, searching asteroid belts, following dead leads, 2 sleepless nights of scanning and panicking.

He hadn't just been upset, he'd felt completely homicidal. And shortly after the rescue and jump through the relay she went and got the pair of them arrested along with the majority of the human crew. To say he was feeling uncharitable…well, that was putting it lightly. He took a mild swallow and stared down the silent marine beside him.

"Someone must have visited her, it's Shepard after all."

"Nada, not even her mother. Rumor has it she won't even speak with her own kid over a vid call. No idea why, guys down in the mess think it's because she believes all that bullshit that's travelling around."

Joker's blood ran from hot to cold faster than the showers in the Alliances' communal bathroom. He momentarily forgot his temper with the Commander and tried to focus on Vega, bless the man he was still talking. His airs for social graces were as infantile as the Commander's herself.

"I tried to talk to her but she wasn't having any of it. It's tough enough even as a kid to make your parents believe in you and see your side of things. I guess there just a huge difference in explaining crayons on the wall and the destruction of an entire star system."

Yes, this man certainly lacked subtlety. But he was right in a sense; he'd at least been able to put the first few pieces into perspective, something he'd been procrastinating himself.

But did the Commander also think she was wrong in her motives, or her choice? They never really talked about it when she returned to the Normandy, but he knew of the risks that came with letting that relay continue to exist, what she'd done and why she'd done it.

The time she'd given everyone to prepare at the cost of over 300,000 batarian lives.

He was still haunted by the memory of that moment, as she stood behind his chair still trembling, shaking her head low and mumbling into her chest about how she'd tried to warn the colonists but she hadn't had time. The distress call had been cut short. He'd never seen her so shaken, not after Ashley on Virmire, not when she hauled his ass out of the burning SR-1. Even when they'd destroyed the collector base she'd been…steady. He couldn't see her expression but he could hear her strangled breaths, the fear palpable.

It wasn't very long after they released their non-human crew that the Alliance commandeered the Normandy and Shepard was put in handcuffs. Anderson had at least remained discrete, the first 24 hours had been rough, listening to Shepard give multiple recounts of her 3 days off the Normandy and the eventual collision of the meteor into the Mass Relay, and later Joker having to confirm just as often how valid the time stamps were. No, there hadn't been time for talking.

Who could stay strong all on their own after that? It was easy to forget Shepard was human too. And bully him; here he sat free as a bird feeling sorry for himself while she sat back at base in what was as good as solitary confinement. He finished his drink as quickly as his stomach would let him and paid a fair share of the tab, trying to ease a small part of his nagging conscious. He needed to get out of there, the night had done nothing for him and from the look of the exhausted man next to him the feeling was mutual.

Neither left the bar that night in high spirits. They'd hailed a cab to take them back to the alliance base, leaving without a word to one another as they split ways. Vega for the barracks and Joker aimlessly in the direction he assumed they were keeping the Commander. It took him awhile to find the right elevator. Even in his uncharacteristic inebriated state he tried to remain cool, thankful for his reinforced braces and crutches that made it possible to pass off his unsteady footing as proof of his 'disability'. Entering the brightly lit security platform Joker awaited the scan to complete, squinting into the bright checkered beams that ran across his body. He had never been to this building before, not that he could recall. Nothing but empty court rooms and the detention center, maybe he'd return when the time came to pass judgment. Would he be tried as an accessory to Shepard's crimes? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to bite back the nausea that was creeping up on him.

Joker spent 15 minutes alone in a room after clearing security that looked eerily like a hospital waiting area complete with actual, honest to God, paper periodicals. He had picked one up and examined the pulpy pages with feigned interest. The guard said it was because of prison security, and cheaper to replace. Aboard ships and stations much of his own work revolved around passing datapads, aero-gel displays, and relying on the extranet, Joker almost forgot what it felt like to hold something with actual substance. He weighed the news journal in his hands and flipped through a few of the pages. It was a sign of how long he'd been in deep space, he couldn't recognize any of the actresses or entertainers. He was suffering a drunken aging crisis when the hiss of the door opening broke his tenuous concentration. Tossing the magazine back onto the table he rose to his feet with some difficulty as they lead a young woman in by the elbows.

The first thing he noticed was how…odd she looked, to him. He never spent much of his time just standing around, and much less of that time was in front of the Commander. She was…well, much less tall this way, less imposing. Her hair had grown out in the 3 months they'd been there and she seemed defiant in the way she refused to properly comb it back. The mussed, sleek brown curls draped over themselves and her forehead in a way that reminded him of those ridiculous, cheesy illustrations of infants with a bow and arrow. At any rate it made her childish face stand out even more. Any other time, any other situation he would have mentioned it. Probably with a little more sarcasm than he'd originally intended; hell, knowing his luck he'd probably stumble over words and just blurt out how unattractive he found her. Her pale face lit up momentarily as the guards let her walk forward on her own to sit in a seat kiddy corner to him.

"Joker." Her voice hoarse, she cleared it. He looked down into her hands, her wrists turned up to the ceiling on her knees. Instead of greeting her properly, or even inappropriately as he'd come here to do, in an angry fashion, his voice seemed to fail him.

"What's with the chains?" He choked out, entwining his own hands, something she'd tried to do herself, but found herself unable to. Cuffs, designed for biotics and dangerous individuals. He was disgusted.

"They're just for when I have visitors, makes the Alliance look like they're trying. How's our girl?" she asked with an incline of her head. Unexpected; he half anticipated her to ask about news of the crew, maybe they weren't holding her in some dank cell under the base. Maybe it really was like Vega said; a single furnished room to herself; house arrest.

"She's fine, retrofits. Ya know?"

"Right…"

"Ee'y-up." He quipped back, finding this visit more sobering than he'd originally predicted. Joker didn't have it in him to kick her while she was down; he'd resigned that sentiment the moment they made eye contact at the door.

Her piercing blue eyes found his, and examined him from hat to hip.

"Nice uniform."

"It's just for show," He examined her own jumpsuit, it was blue as well, but there were no indications of rank or service history. In fact it looked similar to the jumpsuits the engineering crew in the hangar used when they were draining fluids from the underside of the ship. "We're in the same boat after all…"

Joker didn't know what else to say and allowed the silence between them to crackle with tension, the still air punctuated by small movements and shifts in posture.

He came here to berate her, charm her, comfort her, all in the span of their allotted 20 minutes. But he was frozen and running out of time.

"This isn't right, Commander." He spat out suddenly, and almost as soon as he spoke she cut him off.

"It's not Commander anymore, just Shepard." Even though her tone lacked the spark he knew her to possess, she was terse, beaten but clear. He had seen it in her dress, the way her hair had grown longer, even in the rumour mill, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. It wasn't until she said it herself that he could fully accept the fact that she'd been stripped of her rank. He raised his gaze from beneath the shade of his cap, right into her line of sight, right into her eyes and found himself unable to look away. It'd given him a solitary thrill, at the very least it ripped the wind from his sails. For as down and out as a soldier she looked, Shepard hadn't completely lost the fire in her eyes. Her shoulders were squared now, her posture became more rigid and she stared straight through him. He couldn't help the impish half grin.

"Was it something I said?"

Her face brightened, rewarding his cheek with a very un-shepard-like smile. She bit her lip to contain it, returning just as quickly to the sober demeanor he knew her for. But a ghost of that smile could be seen when she ducked her head down, and later in the crease of her eyes when they'd said their goodnights.

"It's what you're not saying, Joker. Thanks, I think I just needed to see you to be sure."

And like that she'd disarmed him. The commander, frank to a fault; if he were Alenko he'd probably be blushing and shitting his pants simultaneously just from receiving such a…flattering remark. Joker didn't need her to elaborate or explain herself in detail, she didn't even need to say a word; like that Shepard flawlessly made him feel like a king.

Joker had left the detention center that night in much higher spirits, her honest expression filling his thoughts and dreams for weeks along with a renewed vigor.

He'd thought about that night many times in the months before they left earth, compartmentalizing every detail to re-examine at his leisure, applying them to different contexts and backdrops. The daydreams never progressing past a touch on the shoulder, and sharing a joke, but none-the-less it felt good. It hadn't been until the week before the Reaper's invasion into the SOL system that he'd started having less than saintly dreams and aspirations of his CO.

The first had started innocently enough as a nightmare.

He'd been having one of his reoccurring dreams about his Academy days and the flight simulation practice decks, alone inputting some obscure figure, pulling up alongside simulated mass relays and docking procedures.

Shepard would appear at his side not a second later after his brain got bored of the monotony.

As always.

She would beg him to get up, telling him there was a fire and that they needed to go.

Joker argued like he always did, complaining about the simulation being 90% of his grade and that he needed his peace.
But she was incessant.

Then they'd appear seamlessly at the Normandy's helm and a wave of panic would strike him, followed by self-hate. Why had he waited so long? What was he trying to prove?

Shepard would continue to dig her gloved hands into his arm trying to get him up, but this time when he looked down he saw her hands were bare, white against tan. Instead of wearing her hardsuit she was in that stupid Alliance issued jumpsuit, the sleeves were tied around her waist revealing a black turtleneck beneath it. She looked like she did on the day they allowed her to observe the retrofit process from a nosebleed window in the Hangar. He'd seen her briefly but she hadn't seen him. This wasn't right; this wasn't how this memory went.

Joker nearly died of a heart attack in sheer terror. She was in danger from exposure without that suit, where was her breathing apparatus, her helmet? When he protested this, wildly searching her face for some sort of understanding, she reached down to begin helping him up.

Holes had started appearing in the backdrop and their bodies hung there on the bridge like two poorly cut photographs glued hastily onto a collage. Bits of ship and light spread like fractals, all sharp edges, and there in the very back the planet of Alchera.

And like every other night she forced his arm around her shoulder, her grip not as punishing as it should have been. He deserved so much more than a bruise. She should have broken his arm.

He found himself sitting in the escape pod, knowing the dream would be over soon. He was used to the spin; every time he reached out for her his hands would hit metal or invisible structures separating them.

But this time his hands connected with something, the sleeves of her jumpsuit around her waist. Joker pulled them but she stood firm like a statue, it made no sense. She was just one woman she couldn't survive the atmosphere without her suit. She'd never come back to him like this. When she didn't bend to his will he pulled himself up to her, hanging onto her shoulders. She was smiling at him now, glancing up through her lashes and biting her bottom lip, just like she had back in the waiting room.

He'd never see her again.
She was dead, they were both going to die, and gravity was ripping her body from his hands.

He would never see that smile again.

Their lips met briefly before he awoke straight up in bed, soaked to the sheets in sweat.

Bemusement had been the first sensation, replaced later by morbid curiosity.

But the day dragged on and he couldn't stop thinking about it. The dream was already burned into the center of every inch of his brain. Joker thought about in his down time, even worked up a whole humorous spiel to tell her about it. However that was before the invasion. Now?

No. He shook his head. Why was he still thinking about any of that. He'd been over this to the nth degree; it just wasn't worth the variety of heartbreak, disappointment and embarrassment. And anyway, going back and time and analyzing those things, trying to retrace every thought and instance, it just wasn't like the movies. For all he knew he had been in love with her since day one.

Love, his heart convulsed painfully beneath his ribs. That was an awfully big word for how often it got thrown around. No he couldn't call it that, infatuation maybe, silly school yard crush definitely if he was looking to make himself feel better. He spent the good part of 2 years watching her, being her eyes and ears aboard the Normandy, and yet he'd been too wrapped up in rules, regulations and self doubt he hadn't even considered it.

He wasn't going to lie though, it wasn't that he never 'looked' or appreciated the Commander as more than an inspiration to the crew. Just as he was sure many people 'looked' and 'appreciated'. It was, however, that no one but Alenko had ever really acted, and boy.

Joker smirked into the rim of his glass. The poor guy, he almost felt sorry for him.

Shot down twice if scuttlebutt was accurate.

Just the idea that great big hero, second human Spectre, Major Alenko had been turned down gave him a ripple of sadistic pleasure. Or, it would have, if he knew whether or not Shepard had been genuine in her quest to suss out his feelings for her.

If that was what it was. But he knew the Commander; at least he thought he did. Shepard was blunt and unyielding, and at times satisfyingly gullible, which made her words this evening impossible to dissect. Had she been looking for a one night stand? Or…

That thought made him a lot angrier than he imagined. Still, she was considerate and didn't push the crew's buttons, or overtly tease anyone just because she could. Which was why she hadn't pushed him further than she did.

Even when he'd mistakenly burned himself about spending his entire life on ships she hadn't commented. At the time he thought it was because being brought back to life had put a damper on her sense of humor or that she'd actually agreed. Then he learned she was simply just that nice.

It made him feel like a complete tool.

None of that mattered now though; he mentally chastised himself as he finished the remainder of his beer. He did not date crew, especially not his superiors. It was never a good idea, and Shepard should know that. To him, joining the alliance was a damning declaration of chastity; part of it was the possibility a sexual encounter could leave him more miserable than satisfied in the morning, but much of his hesitance came from watching those around him flounder.

Relationships within the Alliance never worked out for the better.

His and Shepard's family were a testament to that fact. Kids with both parents in the military, you pick up on the long absences, whispers of infidelity, the arguments; God the arguments. Even with his mother in private sector long after she retired and his dad deployed it was a nightmare of a childhood. Date your own people and you're doomed to become just another miserable, bitter statistic.

But EDI, well, EDI wasn't Alliance. She wasn't even human.

He pondered that possibility seriously for a moment. Yeah that'd work out just fine. And she had that beautiful, shiny new chrome body now. Much better to look at than her original blue display, and convenient too. For all the Alliance knew, EDI was just a VI; she wasn't technically employed by the Navy. They couldn't split the pair of them up if word got out. After all she was still part of the ship. Sure he'd get a few dirty looks and cease getting invites to professional dinners, other women might look at him funny. They'd probably rethink promoting him, but he could live with that. Didn't he deserve at least that much?

And EDI would never leave him or outrank him, bark out insane orders and usher them into dangerous, life threatening situations every other week. She'd never walk onto the bridge smelling like burning flesh and petrol, or seemingly go days without properly washing and combing her hair because it 'wouldn't matter'. EDI was smart, funny, and beautiful. God she was Gorgeous. Aesthetically she sang to the shallow man in him and he wasn't even remotely ashamed. She was something straight out of the vids, and he was the lucky, lucky protagonist. When she'd first strolled onto the deck she'd taken his breath away, but something hadn't felt right, like she was missing some crucial element. He spun at the bar to watch the crowd, his lips sputtering as forcibly released a large breath.

EDI certainly wouldn't dance like that, he almost snorted as his eyes found that one crazy marine he'd been talking about before, laughing throatily at the poor guy's expense.

She certainly wouldn't tip her drink over like that Asari trying to catch the attention of her date, nor would she play with the front of her zipper to the rhythm of the music, or trip over doorways when she thought no one was watching.
She wouldn't give a certain member of her illustrious crew her individually packaged spacer dessert if they asked. She didn't stand behind him while he cracked wise, or join him in humming a familiar tune over the radio while she sat in the navigator's chair typing up reports, or fixed the console's hardware, and laugh at his poor impressions of country singers. Joker became suddenly aware his eyes were glazing over.

Not good. He spun on his heels, ready to pay his tab.

As he passed a credit chit over the counter he turned to the raucous cheer behind him.

Vega was animated about something or another, as he led the small group of soldiers in a toast. Shepard, he told himself quietly, wouldn't join in. And as he'd predicted she stood and took their jabs good-humoredly when she didn't participate. Her voice was low over the thrumming base, he didn't catch what she said but Vega seemed to accept whatever 'it' was and did a double take, eyes landing on the pilot. Shepard turned as well. His heart caught in this throat.

Yes, he definitely needed to leave, get some fresh air for all the good it'd do. He ignored his name being called as he maneuvered through the crowd at the door, hobbling with purpose into the too bright lights of the city. He'd been about to hail a cab and hit the Normandy on his own when he recognized a voice following him across the deck. He almost ignored his name being called behind him until it came at a shout.

"Joker!" The familiar alto bellowed. He cringed and stopped dead in his tracks, not in the mood to take any of her orders; he just wanted to get back to the ship.

Best to just get this out of the way.

"I've been calling you since you left the bar." She pulled from her sweatshirt pocket and held out a rough folded piece of leather. His wallet. Well, he felt silly.

"EDI didn't see you leave; I told her I'd make sure you made it back to the ship alright.

His chest puffed out in knee-jerk reaction, full of resentment.

"I can get back to the ship just fine by myself. And who said that's what I was doing?"

She paused, surprise flickering across her face momentarily before she stalled entirely.

And now he felt like a jerk.

The night was certainly going to hell faster than he thought possible.

"I mean yeah, a cab, just…let me drive." He muttered, raising his arms in defeat. The last thing he wanted tonight was a firsthand demonstration of Shepard's hazardous driving. What was he even doing?

'No, no, Joker you needed time away from all this'

His internal monologue screamed at him as they boarded the small craft, Shepard looking like she wanted to say something about their arrangement. She turned slowly to him as he buckled the belt across his lap.

"Sure you don't want me to drive?"

"God no." Ah, there it is. The ol' foot in mouth.

His hands expertly began flying across the steering console, becoming airborne with far more speed and agility than the Normandy could ever hope to achieve. It was a great deal different than flying a starship, hell these things practically flew themselves these days, there just wasn't enough to do once they merged into outgoing traffic. Nothing but talk; or preferably sit in silence until they reached the docks.

"Can we talk?" Her voice was hollow, and he knew that tone well. Not from Shepard, but from his mom. He knew a 'talk' was coming no matter how hard he lalala'd or held his hands over his ears. He said nothing.

"Look I'm sorry, I was out of line back there."

Releasing a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding, Joker relaxed around the shoulders "Hey," he countered with amusement "No more out of line than I was with that…Terrible line. We're all on edge these days, we say stupid things, we joke around; it's how we cope." It was how he coped, he corrected himself mentally. Shepard's way of coping apparently revolved around ignoring meals up in her hidey-hole on the top deck building model ships like she was someone's estranged uncle that they saw twice a year on holiday.

Joker had been in the process of switching lanes when Shepard spoke again, so softly, into her open palm that he missed their turn off entirely. They drove straight into oncoming traffic, horns screeching in protest as they ran a red light.

"Never said I was joking, or that I hadn't meant it; just that I was sorry."

"Commander," He breathed harshly,

"Forget it Joker, you're right, this war is turning our heads." She laughed into her palm, biting the skin around her nails loose. Right, he needed to be watching the road, not her lips. But it was hard, she was still talking, and he was annoyed he couldn't gauge her careful tone. It was apologetic, rough but controlled. He felt like they were back in the greeting room back on Earth, he knew if he looked over right now he'd see that same tense posture, that same controlled fire. His hands gripped empty space. He shot her furtive glances, noting how Shepard tense she was, nearly at the edge of her seat now, maybe they'd get to the Normandy before-

"I didn't mean to back you into a corner; I got selfish and took advantage of the situation, No EDI, no Normandy, no crew. I –."

Joker's breath left him in one heavy sigh, his whole body shifted as he pulled them up and out of traffic, weaving through cars as he leaned forward in his seat to scope out a good place to park. If he was going to stomp on the heart of his CO he couldn't do it in the middle of rush hour. Joker also didn't need a second set of eyes to know that the woman in the seat next to him was burying her face in her hands in an exasperated fashion. The civilian quarters of the city were in a night cycle and the light of the presidium non-existent, the low lighting made this feat harder than it looked. Eventually he spotted a parking ramp and took advantage of the hour and lights to bypass the tunnels and fly straight to the roof.

"Shepard," He started, trying to make out her features in the darkness, the engines dying down as Joker switched off the ignition. From the light of the dash he noticed she was sitting calmly in the passenger's seat with her face resting in her palm, leaning against the doorframe. She was so eerily composed now that they were parked he was starting to get angry, the disparity was maddening. Why did it feel like he was in high school about to turn down the prettiest girl in class as though she were the very nice but also very gross half cat half velociraptor troll that sat behind him in calculus? The universe could be so cruel.

"Commander, look. I don't know any other way to say this; in fact I've never been a situation where I've had to say this. This can't happen." His voice was nearly reaching hysterics, this was the time to laugh, but even he had to admit the situation had reached the peak of absurdity.

"Joker, just turn the car around. Let's just go back to the ship." Shepard's breath came out in an uncomfortable whoosh.

His voice was increasing in volume.

"Why, so we can just go back and pretend that this didn't just happen?"

"No!" her's was as well "Partially yes, mainly because you're starting to get bent out of shape about this! And frankly I would like to forget about this nightmare. So just turn the car around, please." She reached over to turn the car back on but he swat her hand back.

"Commander would you- just—Stop. Alright look it's like I said, any other time, any other place. Another galaxy another universe, there are regulations in place for a reason-!"

Shepard's body shifted as she breathed out a frustrated laugh, rubbing her fingers against her closed eyes.

"Rules? We're in the middle of a war where you could die, where we all could die tomorrow, and your reasoning is to lecture me; sit me down and forcibly read me the Alliance regulations handbook?" Her voice was bitter, mocking, and when she finally turned to him in the light of the dashboard he could clearly see disgust. His temper was starting to boil, he'd never shouted at a superior officer in his entire career, not unless he counted the time he'd ripped on Shepard when the Collectors had kidnapped the entire crew. But right now he didn't see his CO, he saw the reason for his guilt, his anger and his pain of 2 and a half years personified sitting in front of him and clearly mocking him.

"Joker please, coming from the man whose extranet bookmarks would make an Asari stripper blush…That's rich. " she shifted in her seat to regard him with a closed off expression, "So don't insult me with excuses, Be honest. Reject me like a man. I'm a big girl, I can take it. So tell me what's really on your mind. You break more regulations in an afternoon than any other soldier onboard the Normandy."

And I let you. She hadn't said it, but he could tell by the way she regarded him that she was thinking it. Her condescending tone was it, he'd had enough.

"Speaking of insulting! What gives you the right? You really want to know what I'm thinking?" His voice echoed in the small cab, his right arm turned to brace himself against the back of the seat, his body slowly but purposefully turning towards her. He was deadly serious, angry, and he wanted to give her no way out. Just short of locking the doors he did the only other thing he could, he held her there with his voice.

"I didn't have the wonderful Mister and Misses Shepard as my mom and dad, I wasn't hand picked out of a crowd because I happened to survive, you got lucky Commander. Everything in life was handed to you out of pure luck. You were the exception to the rule, as always!"

Shepard seemed to grow larger with that insinuation, he could almost feel the fury rolling from her hunched shoulders. "Hey! I get what you're trying to say here but that's a load of crock!" She gestured towards him turning full in her seat now with her knee bent to face him head on.

"Is it?" He countered; glad his voice wasn't the only one raised to the ceiling. Good, it made it easier to hate her right now. Perfect life, perfect Shepard, he'd lost all control of this conversation and the night in general. One second she was hinting at a…a something in the dark corner of a bar, now they were screaming at one another on the roof of a parking garage about his scruples and how unfair life was. Good God, they were just like his parents already.

Now that hadn't been the correct train of thought.

"If I recall correctly the only reason it's you sitting here today and not Kaidan is because you shoved him out of the way of that beaco—"

"You're out of line, Lieutenant!" She screamed, her hands coming into contact with both the back of her seat and the dashboard. He knew he hit a sore spot there, he knew damn well that Kaidan outranked her now. "Don't you dare!"

"Or what? You're just upset because you can't have your way, because I'm not dropping myself before you like Kai—"

"Enough! Now I'm upset because I'm starting to regret ever opening my big mouth!" It was a wonder, Joker thought, watching her nearly rise to the ceiling, that Shepard hadn't pulled a she-hulk and tore her way out of the car. He was starting to feel a little out of his element here.

And wow she was angry, and frightening. Mostly angry. He hadn't seen her this mad since the time the relief pilot nearly tore a hull in the ship docking at the citadel trying to prove a point: that Joker wasn't 'all that', she'd yelled for an hour straight. His eardrums would never be the same; he was beginning to feel a similar sentiment coming on.

"I'm more embarrassed than insulted you even said that. You have no idea…" Her features contorted behind her knuckles, eyes sealed and lips pursed.

Joker's voice cracked, "Try me."

"Because I was running out of time!" She gasped, looking startled, but she never lost her pace. "It wasn't pretty, and I'm sure as hell not proud, but you both seem determined regardless of what's appropriate! What else was I supposed to do? " Shepard paused for a moment to drag her nails back and forth over her scalp.

That…hadn't been what he'd expected. And now that he was certain the pair of them felt equally like jackasses he began to relax a little. His chest started to rise and fall slowly, regular breathing patterns returning. He watched her recover, his hands falling to his legs to partake in a nervous tic of his, bones aching from the tension that captivated his entire body just second ago.

Now that he was starting to unwind, his focus was wandering. She'd been talking about EDI, right? Running out of time then, to what?

Ah, no. His mind warned him. Don't do it.

The feeling in his chest was close to bursting and on the verge of hysterics. Shepard never showed this side of herself to anyone, the human side that was. He saw there what others refused to see; A tired woman with months of pent up frustrations over the war, mounting casualties and a council who collectively had their heads shoved so far up their asses they were in danger of creating a massive black hole. She could be just as bumbling as the rest of them, screw his previous misconceptions of Shepard never trying for anything, she must have been using everything in her to ignore the fight-or-flight response rising in her gut this very second.

"Shepard." His voice was softer this time, hoping the worst of it was over, hoping she'd climb down to meet him at his level. But just by speaking she was off again, making less and less sense; he was worried he might have missed something.

"I just, damn it! - Everyone has problems! " Her hands were working at the speed of light, trying to convey the urgency that her words were already adequately supplying.

"Shepard cal—"

Joker swallowed her words with difficulty; he was now officially out of his element. All the humour and cracks at either of their expense couldn't help him out of this one. It was becoming difficult to concentrate. Now that his fears and doubts had violently been quashed by her abysmally loud voice, he couldn't remember what they were even yelling about, or how they'd even gotten to this point.

A soft ringing filled his ears, and when he finally looked up he almost wanted to laugh at her tortured expression, how mused her hair looked, the light filtering around her making it tower twice its size with curls poking out in every direction. He was dazed, wondering how could she make the air light up blue around her like that, ah. It was just the city lights, the car headlights, starlight, she was a great view. Had a great view! If she just shut up and looked outside.

"Shepard." His brain clamped down on a million jokes and, he panicked, the urge to lay a heavy hand upon her head to smooth out that mess. She wasn't being herself and neither was he. Shepard never lost her cool, not like this. "Calm down."

"I didn't bring this up tonight because I thought we could fool around, or because I have something to prove. And contrary to what you believe, I didn't expect anything! I just didn't want to greet another morning with one more piece of unfinished business!"

He was, well, speechless.
Yeah this was starting to feel a lot like being home, except he didn't feel the sense of impending doom that usually filled these silences. Right now he was too fixated on watching her deflate. Her hands were still balled into fists, bracing herself forward resting the trembling, flexing digits along thighs. Her left knee was awfully close to his hip, he could just reach out and…

"Joker!"

His eyes shot up, he'd thought the loud short breaths he'd been hearing were coming from his Commander, but the tightness in his chest told Joker they were coming from him. Certain she'd gotten his attention this time she sighed deeply, the breath causing her full lips to separate at the seams. He swallowed hard.

"Just turn the car ar-…around."

Wordlessly he reached through the darkness and cupped her face in his hands before she could start talking again, pulling her forward to meet him halfway. He'd originally intended to flatten her hair down in some mad bid for peace, just to have her calm down. But how in the world did it come to this?

He was almost impatient, pressing their lips together fiercely with the light of the steering console to guide him. A contented anxious sigh escaped the spaced between their lips, his hot breath fanning back into his face. He'd wished he'd had some sort of way to travel back in time to remedy the way he could smell the liquor on his own breath, so cheap he was almost mortified. Shepard hadn't seemed to care all that much, if her leaning forward tentatively in her seat to press their lips together more firmly was any indication.

The brim of his hat knocked her square in the forehead, pushing it to cover his eyes. He could feel her smiling awkwardly, and Joker reached up to situate it higher up on his head to compensate for their sudden intimacy.

He still wasn't sure what to make of this, or what he felt about them. While a large part of his brain was eager and fully supportive of the way her hands came to restlessly tangle themselves in the front of his uniform, a less enthusiastic and terrified part of his mind loudly called repeatedly for him to stop.

This was his CO, this was Shepard.

He didn't know if he wanted to call this love, he wasn't even sure there was a word for what he was feeling.

The yearning went far deeper than banal lust, or attraction. He just didn't feel the same way for her that he did for the girls in his extranet vids. If he'd had to describe it on the spot he'd have to say it was a painful feeling, the good kind, the kind that wrenched his stomach into tight nauseating knots until he thought he was ready to puke.

His blunt nails dug into the base of her neck, dragging back and forth through the short brown curls, searching for some sort of tether hold. His brow creased in concentration, his mind reaching out urging Shepard to move forward so he could feel more than just the tips of her fingers. He ducked his right arm around her and gripped the back of her sweatshirt pulling her gently forward. Their lips separated as Sheppard grabbed the back of his headrest and nearly ended up in his lap before curving her inner thigh along the back of his hips, balancing between the two front seats.

"Joker" She inhaled sharply, he wondered for a moment if it'd been just as long for her as well, if not longer. Two years dead, half of a year in pursuit of the Reapers, and another six months in prison. Her lack of breath was unbearably endearing and he recaptured her mouth with his own, urging her lips apart, his tongue meeting resistance at her clenched teeth.

"Jeff." She tried again, his hands sliding back up her face, anchoring her to him. His eyes open to regard her with annoyance, their lips brushing. It was barely a whisper but she had his full attention, scared for a moment he'd gone too far. He followed her as she sat back a ways, unwilling to let go for anything. He had had his chance to stop but now he couldn't remember why he wanted to. He might not have had a name for what this trice was; all he knew was that he didn't want it to stop, whatever it was. He could be brave enough for this.

Her forehead rested against his, her skin fevered, or was that his own? She ducked her eyes away from him breathing deeply. The Commander Shepard; winded by a kiss. That sadistic thrill was starting to return, a gleam in his green eyes as they were drawn to her swollen lips.

That full pout, Shepard and her wide blue eyes, he wanted to see them but she refused to look his way. She seemed to be struggling with something, the way her hands clenched and unclenched around the fabric at his shoulders.

"I-I'm not trying to—"

He cut her off with another hungry kiss, heaving her forward by the front of her jumper earning him a surprised throaty yelp. He laughed easily against the base of her throat.

"Shepard, shut up."