"There's nothing left to lose

The fight never ends

I can't face the dark without you"

Without You – Breaking Benjamin

Shepard sidled up to the bar next to Joker. Her forearm brushed his as she signaled the bartender, but he didn't flinch away. She knew that the pilot was pathologically averse to physical contact, because he was afraid of getting hurt - both physically, and emotionally. The fact that he didn't shrink from her touch was a vote of confidence that she didn't fail to recognize.

"What'll it be?"

"A shot, and a beer," she replied, shouting to be heard over the music. Noticing Joker's almost empty glass, she held up her index and middle fingers. "Make it two." She turned to face her pilot as the server hustled away.

The first thing Joker noticed about Shepard was how tired she looked. The skin under her eyes was swollen and bruised. Her hair was disheveled due to her habit of anxiously raking her fingers through it. Her shoulders were rounded just a bit, as if bowing under a heavy weight. She was cracking under the burden of their mission. If the war dragged on too long, he feared she might be crushed entirely.

Shepard saw Joker's eyes skim her appraisingly, and then shift to a spot over her shoulder. Rotating her head, she saw EDI seated at a table nearby. She quickly banished her reflexive scowl, but not before Joker spotted it.

"You don't approve," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Of what?" she replied, playing at ignorance. His expression said he wasn't buying it.

"EDI and I. You don't approve."

No, she didn't approve. Nor did she understand. EDI was cold, rational, and largely indifferent to human emotion. Okay, so maybe she did understand. But she still didn't like it.

"I think you could do better."

Joker scoffed. "Like who?"

Who, indeed? Her heart raced as she contemplated the consequences of honesty. Shepard had been alone her whole life. No family, no friends, no intimate relationships. At first, by fate; later, by choice. But now, as Bailey had opined, it was the end of days. If she made an ass of herself, she likely wouldn't have to live with the humiliation for long. Fuck it.

"What about me?"

Joker could not have been more surprised if Shepard had announced that she was going to throw down her weapons and try to engage the Reapers in a round of kumbaya.

"Uh, I've never really considered it, Shepard," he lied. "No offense."

Shepard picked up her shot glass and tossed back the liquid, hoping to use the alcohol as an excuse for the flush blooming on her face. The man enjoyed every variety of porn in the known galaxy, and had a crush on a robot. And he'd just announced that he'd never - not even once - considered her a potential sexual partner. But...no offense. Sure. Well, she'd come this far. Might as well go for total annihilation of her pride. Clearing her throat from the after burn of the booze, she managed to choke out, "And now that you're considering it?"

Joker was perplexed. He'd thought at first that maybe Shepard was teasing him – mocking his interest in EDI. But her inability to meet his eyes proclaimed that this was no joke. As the bar's strobes cast her profile in light and shadow, he thought that she looked scared, vulnerable, and already resigned to rejection. He chose his next words carefully, in an attempt to soften the inevitable blow.

"I've served with you from the day you took command. I'd follow you into hell."

"But not into my quarters." This was said so softly that it was barely audible over the pulsing beat of the music.

"Chain of command, Shepard," he improvised, knowing the excuse would fall flat. Neither of them had much use for regs, even in the best of times. "In any other universe, I would rock your world."

Shepard didn't respond. She hadn't really expected anything different. Even with the end in sight, it was hard to let go of one's fears. She knew that as well as anyone. Everywhere, people were coming together, seeking solace wherever they could – Tali and Garrus; Chakwas and Adams; and, apparently, Joker and EDI. Despite the hollowness in her gut and the lump in her throat, she was happy for them. They all deserved whatever joy they could find in the time that they had left.

Nodding, she threw some credits on the bar, and turned to go. She'd barely taken a step when his fingers encircled her wrist. "Shepard." She heard the entreaty behind the words, imploring her to understand. The hell of it was, she did. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

Without raising her gaze from the floor, she gently extricated herself from his grip and slipped into the crowd, quickly disappearing from view.

Joker was staring, transfixed, at the flaming surface of Thessia when Shepard burst into the cockpit. "EDI, I need you in the war room. Joker, stash the Normandy somewhere safe. I'll let you know where we're going as soon as I know."

EDI departed, and Shepard turned to follow when Joker noticed warning lights flashing on his display. When he saw what the readout was, he called, "Shepard! Wait."

"What?" she demanded, impatiently.

"Why don't you hang out for a minute? Take a breath?"

She looked at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "Joker, Leng got away with the data. We need to get it back! Now!"

"I know. But according to your armor's metabolic scans, your stress levels are through the roof."

Shepard scoffed as she turned to go. "It's a little late to pretend like you care, Joker."

He shot out of his seat as fast as he was able, staggering from the momentum. "That's not fair, Shepard!" he hissed. "I do care about you. You know that!"

She spun to face him, the anger expanding quickly now. "Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it, Lieutenant." She knew she wasn't being entirely fair. Joker had earned his status as her friend, even if he was unwilling to risk becoming something more. But they'd just lost the asari home world, as well as their only hope of stopping the Reapers. And she'd had to listen to Liara's abject weeping all the way back in the shuttle. She wasn't all that concerned with what was fair, at the moment.

Joker stepped closer, not rising to the bait, but not backing down in the face of her rage, either. "The last time I talked to Anderson, he told me to take care of you. The guy leading the resistance on Earth is worried about you! And the truth is, so am I."

"I can take care of myself." She wasn't entirely confident about the truth of that statement anymore, but she didn't see anybody else volunteering for the job. She snuck another glance at the worry writ clearly across her pilot's face. Or did she?

"I know," Joker said, softly. Beseechingly, he stretched out a hand, realizing too late that the majority of her body was encased in armor-plating. Her eyes opened wide as he allowed his palm to settle against her cheek. "But I want to help."

"I'm fine," she insisted, but there was no conviction behind her words. She was captivated by the warmth emanating from where his hand gently cupped her face. The gesture was intimate, and surprisingly comforting.

"The hell you are," Joker replied, his face now mere inches from her own. "You're not eating; not sleeping. You're half dead already. And it's my fault."

"What?" She had no idea what he meant by that.

"When the Collectors attacked the Normandy, you died because I wouldn't…because you had to rescue me." Grief and guilt supplanted the concern in his expression, and her heart broke for what felt like the millionth time that day. She wondered if there could possibly be anything left besides miniscule shards.

"Joker." His name drifted on an exhale. She mirrored his posture, caressing his left cheek with her right hand. She succeeded only in smudging his face with soot from her glove. She was stellar at this intimacy thing. How had he ever resisted her charm? "I couldn't leave the best pilot in the fleet behind, now, could I?"

"You should have." Misery accented every syllable.

"No. Never." Hazel eyes bore into hers as she slid her hand from his cheek to grip the back of his neck. She leaned forward slowly, ducking beneath the bill of his omnipresent cap. Her gaze fell to his lips as they parted, and she felt more than heard the sigh escape before she covered his mouth with her own.

Joker's hand slipped to Shepard's nape as her lips skimmed his, light as a feather. When he didn't recoil, her kiss grew more arduous, and his fingers clenched involuntarily, tangling in the knot of her hair. She moaned softly, the vibration quivering across the surface of his tongue. He urged her lips apart, and she complied willingly, clasping both arms tightly around his neck while trying not to crush him under the weight of her suit. His hands futilely sought purchase on the slick surface of her armor, silently cursing the barrier between them. She angled her head in the opposite direction, allowing the briefest of separations, just enough time to gulp in a lung full of air, but before she could surrender to pleasure once more, the comm crackled to life.

"Shepard?" It was Miranda. "The crew is gathered. We're waiting for you."

She withdrew slightly, chest heaving. Joker's face was flushed, his lips swollen, his hat askew, and his eyes full of longing. She wanted more than anything to ignore Miranda, ignore the mission, ignore her goddamn life and just claim this one scrap of selfishness. But she knew that she couldn't.

She grasped Joker's face between trembling palms. "Come to my quarters tonight? Promise?" She was aware of the desperation in her voice, but made no attempt to disguise it. She was terrified that if she relinquished this moment, it might never be reclaimed. It was a defeat she was unprepared to admit.

Joker blinked, trying to regain his senses. Kissing Shepard had aroused feelings that he'd fought long and diligently to deny. This endeavor was ill-advised, and reckless. But he couldn't refuse her again. The first time had nearly destroyed him.

He nodded once, unable to find his voice. Her lips swept quickly across his, and with one last yearning look, she was gone.

Late that night, Joker stood outside of Shepard's room. He sensed that whatever was about to happen would change their relationship forever. However, it was some consolation that as a result of their current circumstances, forever promised to be a significantly shorter amount of time than usual. He pressed the comm and heard Shepard say, "Come on in, Joker."

She climbed the stairs from the interior of the room in order to greet him as he entered. She wore black running shorts that exposed long, muscular legs, and a white tank top of thin, clingy material that made it evident that she wore nothing underneath. Her hair was down and loose around her shoulders; her feet were bare. She looked beautiful, but then again, he always thought her so; even when she was covered in sweat, grime, and blood, as was often the case.

"Course is set for Horizon. We should be there in about twelve hours."

With a nod, she reached for him, but he intercepted her hand and grasped it, softly. The gentle rebuff alarmed her slightly, but she waited patiently for him to speak.

"I understand the impulse to forge a connection with someone – especially now, with so much at stake. What I don't understand is – why me?"

Shepard paused for a moment, trying to formulate a coherent explanation. "Do you remember what you said in the bar the other night? About how you've been here from the beginning? I've grown to trust you, Jeff, and depend on you. When I'm with you, I feel less lonely. And lately, I've felt very alone."

He released her hand and turned away to stare vacantly at the empty fish tank. "After the explosion of the Normandy, I was so pissed off at you…angry that you'd come back for me, angry that you'd died. Angry that I cared enough to be angry." One corner of his lip curled upwards in a mirthless smile. "I lied when I said I've never thought about you and me. But I don't think that I can go through that again."

She moved to stand beside him, her shoulder grazing his as she watched the aerator float bubbles through the murky water. "Do you really think it will be easier if we deny ourselves this?" she whispered.

He gave a bark of bitter laughter. "No."

"I'm not asking for any promises, Jeff. If you survive and I don't, I don't want you to grieve for me. I just want you to know that I cared about you. And that I died happy." Her eyes slid in his direction as a sly grin tugged at her lips. "Assuming you weren't just bragging when you promised to rock my world."

He smirked in response to the challenge. "You know me, Shepard. I'm an arrogant bastard, but I always back it up with the goods." He hooked his fingers into her waistband and pulled her closer. Her arms snaked around his neck. "And if I should die and you survive?"

"Then I shall mourn your loss always, forsaking all others." She said it teasingly, content to ignore the underlying verity of the sentiment.

"Sounds fair." He brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead, and she turned her face into the caress.

"So, you'll stay with me?" she murmured.

"Until the end," he confirmed, lowering his lips to hers.