Okay, so the first part wasn't really Shoker. I loved the idea of EDI's meddling inadvertently bringing them together, so...

"Goddammit Shepard, move your ass!" Joker's assault rifle blasted away at the massive swarms of Collectors as the commander burst out of the depths of the disintegrating base. Icy hands gripped his innards as he watched her soar through the air, leaping across the expanding chasm separating her from the shuttle. She wasn't going to make it, she was going to die right here and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. Screaming in rage and agony, he reloaded and kept firing again and again, blacking out until she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him until at last he realized that it was over, Shepard was safe and against all odds everyone had made it out alive.

Ever since that night in the cockpit, Joker had been hoping for a sign from Shepard that what happened between them was real, that he wasn't the victim of lust-fueled delirium. She still visited him regularly, shooting the breeze and passing time, but her demeanor was friendly and professional, and her clothes definitely stayed on. Not that he could even look at her without picturing her naked, head thrown back as she begged him to take her harder. If she was trying to be discreet she was doing one hell of a job. EDI informed him that she'd dismantled the security cameras in her quarters. There went that guilty pleasure.

Joker tried to resign himself to forever being her friend and subordinate, but couldn't stop himself from wanting more. He wasn't her usual type, couldn't be farther from it really. Shepard's modus operandi was detailed in Cerberus' confidential files: every once in a while, she'd disappear while on shore leave with someone tall, gorgeous, and built like a krogan. Occasionally she'd break from her usual habits: there was suspicion she played for the other team, so to speak, and even speculation about her relations with the asari consort on the Presidium. Shepard's trysts never lasted for more than a few hours: there was no mention of anything more serious. Poor Kaidan had tried hard enough, but rumour had it she'd turned him down flat, saying he should go find himself a nice girl. Shepard was many things, but she was definitely not nice, not sweet and hesitant like the woman in his dream. It didn't matter: he far preferred the real-life Shepard to the airbrushed version from his demented fantasy.

Once safely docked on the Citadel, the crew had been given some much-needed shore leave while the Normandy was repaired. Shepard and some of her teammates ended up at Chora's Den, drinking away their stress and blowing off steam. Since Fist's abrupt departure, the new owners had elevated the club from its seedy roots into a much classier den of iniquity. Several rounds of drinks left Shepard feeling warm and disinhibited, relaxing next to Joker in one of the private booths. From the way her eyes kept scanning the dance floor's occupants, he was pretty sure she was looking for other means of relieving her tension.

"I never really thanked you for all those times you pulled my ass out of the fire, Joker. You're my knight in shining armour, except, you know, with a starship." She laughed, clapping her hands in delight. "I should buy you a lap dance!"

"Sorry, commander. I'm not really into asari." An interesting proposition, but not what he had in mind.

"Don't be silly. Everyone's into asari."

"I prefer my company a little closer to home."

"You're too sweet. You should find yourself a nice girl." There it was, the kiss of death. He was blowing it, and he might never get another chance.

He straightened his posture and crossed his arms, ignoring the pain and putting on an air of confidence as he grinned slyly. "Maybe I don't want a nice girl."

One eyebrow shot up: she clearly wasn't expecting his response. "I'm not so sure you could handle me, flyboy. Unless a broken arm is your idea of foreplay."

Ouch. That was low. Realizing what she'd just said, Shepard leaned in to explain herself, putting her hand gently on his forearm. "You're too important to me, Jeff. No one else could fly the Normandy like you. Hurting you is not what I had in mind tonight."

Jeff. She called him Jeff. He didn't let himself flinch when she mentioned his frailty. Showing weakness now would be the worst thing he could do.

"A lot changed in two years, Shepard. Cerberus gave me a lot of… enhancements." Cybernetics, heavy bone weave: they'd even rewired his neural pathways to treat his chronic pain. If not for the limp, his disability would be nearly invisible.

"Really?" Her interest was piqued, but she kept her distance. "I make it a policy never to get involved with my crew. Things would get awkward. I'm not the kind of girl who sticks around to cuddle." The thought of the ferocious commander cuddling with anyone would have seemed absurd, if not for the vivid memory of her skin pressed against his, the warm softness of her curled into him, savouring every minute until morning forced them apart.

He laughed, keeping his cool. To get through to her he had to keep up, match her blow for blow. "At least you could let me buy you a lap dance."

"Now you're talking, soldier."

He beckoned over the asari dancer nearest them, her hips swaying as she made her way to their table. She seemed positively delighted to be dancing for Shepard, her body writhing seductively against her to the beat of the pounding club music. If nothing else, this moment alone would be enough to keep Joker warm at night for a very long time. The asari giggled as she glanced at him, then whispered something in Shepard's ear that made her smile wickedly and nod in assent. He could scarcely believe his eyes when the two began to kiss, mouths open and definitely using their tongues. Nope, he wasn't going to be able to stand up to buy another round of drinks.

Just when he thought he couldn't possibly be more aroused, Shepard looked straight at him and grinned. "Thanks for the present." She had to be testing him, gauging his reaction to her display, or maybe she was messing with him. Hell, maybe she just wanted the asari.

"Thanks for the visual. I'll have to write this up for next month's Fornax."

Shepard shot him a look of mock offence, and was promptly redirected by the dancer, irked that she wasn't being paid enough attention. The commander patted her ass affectionately and thanked her for the dance.

"Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Maybe. We'll see. So, how about another round? Cerberus is picking up the tab, even though they don't know it yet." Shepard was all too happy to add insult to injury now that she'd told off the Illusive Man and blown up the Collector base. As if on cue, Kelly sauntered over carrying a tray of purple shots. He had no idea what they were, but they tasted like cold fire and made his brain tingle. Shepard seemed to be experiencing similar effects: her posture grew more relaxed, and she was absentmindedly twirling her hair as she swayed to the beat of the music.

"I need to dance."

"You're on your own there, Shepard. Cerberus forgot my rhythm implant. Looks like Kelly wants to take you for a spin, though."

"Sweet girl. Definitely not my type." Lithe and agile despite the ethanol in her bloodstream, Shepard let herself be carried away by the entrancing melody, dancing around the other clubgoers but not staying with any one partner. She managed to put on quite a show, catching many an appreciative eye. The music was hypnotic but somewhat repetitive, and she soon tired of the dance floor and returned to Joker's table.

"So, tell me something I don't know about you, Jeff Moreau."

I dreamt we made love on the bridge and I can't stop thinking about you. "You remember that salarian fighter jet the Alliance recovered a few years ago, that no one could figure out how to fly?"

"The Aerix-9. There was a contest, wasn't there? The Alliance Navy said that whoever could master the controls would get their pick of assignments. No one ever claimed that prize." Salarian craft were built to accommodate their superhuman reflexes and dexterity: their fighter squadrons were legendary and unparalleled.

"That's not exactly true, commander. No one publicly claimed the prize. The Alliance didn't want the salarians to know we could keep up with them."

"You mean you…"

Joker just smiled. "How do you think I ended up piloting the Normandy? Let's just say there's nothing in the galaxy I can't handle." It was a big risk bragging about that particular exploit: the Alliance was a little touchy about their military secrets. The impressed look on Shepard's face made it all worthwhile. "Your turn. Better make it good, I could be court-martialed for what I just told you."

"You're safe. We're not Alliance anymore, remember?" She paused for a moment, her mind lost in careful analysis. Whatever conclusion she might have come to she elected not to share. "Secrets, huh? It's too crowded for me to tell you here. Follow me."

Leading him out of Chora's Den and into a secluded alleyway, Shepard ducked behind some haphazardly strewn crates. "I'm not sure about this yet. Mmm… that's better." She'd swiped his lucky hat and tossed it into the corner.

"Hey!"

"Shhh." Before he could lodge further protest, her fingers were running through his hair and her lips were on his, sweet and heady from the lingering alcohol.

She whispered into his ear: "I might be willing to make an exception to my rule, as long as there are no hurt feelings later."

"Why are we still standing here?"

Shepard was apprehensive about returning to the Normandy until Joker showed her how to turn off EDI's surveillance. Something about the AI made the commander uneasy: she hated the feeling of constantly being watched, and the syrupy sweet tone EDI had been using with her lately was creeping her out. It was a reckless move bringing Joker back here to her quarters: she'd never invited anyone into to her own personal space before, and certainly never fooled around with a member of her crew. There was something decidedly different about her pilot. She used to think his confident swagger and endless jokes were just a cover for his underlying insecurities, but he'd proven himself time and time again, living up to his outrageous boasts. He really was the best damn pilot in the galaxy, and the way he was looking at her tonight, so arrogant and cocksure, he managed to piss her off and turn her on at the same time. Bastard. She'd show him, and if she enjoyed herself along the way so much the better.

Straddling him on her couch, they kissed deeply, her lips stinging slightly from his whiskers. Damn, he's good at this, she thought. It's a shame I have to crush his pride so soon. She slipped off her tunic to reveal her new silken bra, the fine asari craftsmanship showcasing her assets beautifully. Feeling him growing hard against her belly, she reached down to caress his length through his clothing. He was surprisingly well-endowed: only her stubbornness held her to her wicked plan. Finding a rhythm, she timed her strokes to his insistent moans, tongue tracing circles around his earlobe. He wouldn't last one more minute, and then she'd gloat and tell him matter-of-factly that pilot extraordinaire or not, he couldn't handle her.

Smugly pleased with herself, she was taken by surprise when she felt a sudden rush of cool air: he'd reached around to unfasten her clasp, deftly removing her bra. She lost her concentration: his tongue was doing something maddening to her nipple, sending electric shocks through her body. She struggled to regain control of the situation, but her efforts were sharply interrupted by a tiny bite on her delicate flesh.

"Not so fast. You're getting ahead of yourself, little Spectre." Little Spectre? Nothing infuriated her more than being condescended to. She glared a warning, the fire in her eyes declaring she was moments away from letting loose a close range warp field. Joker didn't even bother to look up, focusing his attention on her other breast with the same rapt intensity. Shepard was furious, but his mouth felt unbelievably good, lust overriding her anger. His arms felt strong around her, a striking change from the frail body he once had. This couldn't possibly be the same man she'd known: he'd always been tougher than his appearance let on, but there was substance to his swagger, his confidence hardened by battle and loss.

"This'll be a lot harder if you keep your pants on, commander."

"What about you?"

"No need to rush. I'm just getting started." Again with the machismo, again he was trying to gain the upper hand. Still, she was curious as to what else he might be planning with his dexterous hands. It couldn't hurt to give him a chance, put him to the test before she had her way with him.

Shepard stood before him, stripping off her remaining clothing to stand fully naked, her hair flowing in soft curls around her shoulders. Expecting shock and awe, she was bothered by his expression of smug appreciation. He seemed pleased, but his reaction implied she was nothing he hadn't seen before. Right… the bastard had been spying on her until she ripped out the surveillance cameras. Crossing her arms, she glared defiantly as though unperturbed by her state of undress. "Alright flyboy, impress me."

Joker laughed, taking her by the hand to lead her over to the bed, protesting when she reached around to relieve him of his shirt. His body was decorated with scars, remnants of chest tubes after broken ribs and surgeries to correct his spinal alignment. Shepard ran her fingertips along his torso, following the curve of a thoracotomy. "You look like a soldier," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed to plant kisses on his chest and abdomen. It wasn't like her to be tender, but she wanted him to be comfortable, remembering how self-conscious she'd been of her own scars before they healed. She needed this, she realized. Ever since taking command of the Normandy, she hadn't allowed herself the luxury of a lover: fame and notoriety preceded her everywhere. Two Reapers had gone down in flames, she'd died and been resurrected, countless pressures and stresses weighed on her and she had no one but herself to ease the tension. For all his frustrating arrogance, Jeff's skill was impressive, and he just might be able to give her what she needed.

He didn't disappoint. Working her with his tongue and fingers, he brought her to a swift and powerful climax. It was as though he already knew her body, hitting every sweet spot, manipulating her effortlessly until she cried out despite herself. Round one went to him, she silently conceded, floating down from her sublime high. Time to even the score.

"Have you ever been with a biotic, Jeff?"

"Can't say that I have. Not unless you count that time Wrex put me in a headlock."

"Do you understand what we're capable of?" She gave him a distinctly predatory look, a tigress eyeing her victim.

"Uh… you're not going to go all Morinth on me, are you? Not that it wouldn't be an awesome way to go, but the open casket would be embarrassing."

"Don't worry. Only your sanity's in danger, not your life." He probably thought she was joking. "If you can't take it, just tell me to stop."

He crossed his arms, incredulous. "Alright, commander, impress me."

Human skin had remarkable properties. The lightest touch could elicit the most exquisite effects, and the range of possible sensations was staggering. Add biotics, and a single touch could be made to feel like hundreds, or amplified to any intensity. Anatomy and physiology were essential to any biotic soldier's education, and Shepard made the most of her considerable expertise.

She started slowly, lying atop him and thanking him for his efforts with long sultry kisses, her arousal mingling with the sweetness of his breath. Giving him a taste of her biotics, she used her lips to tease his neck and jawline, his skin tingling from her kiss. He strained against her, moaning and bucking his hips involuntarily, but she was having none of it. Gradually, she worked her way down his body, lingering on each sensitive area along the way, sending low-frequency pulses of energy through his muscles to massage and relax them. The overall effect was to soothe and arouse him simultaneously, draining all tension and focusing his complete attention on her touch. Removing his clothing, she withdrew for a moment to admire his body, the sudden absence of stimulation priming him for her next move.

Starting with the faintest touch, the tip of her tongue tracing his length, she teased him into a frenzy before taking him into her mouth. Feeling him nearing release, she used biotic energy to upset the delicate balance of his sympathetic nervous system, doing nothing to tame his arousal but preventing him from reaching a climax. He belonged to her now, for as long as she wanted, and merciless though she was, Shepard knew the longer he lasted the greater his eventual bliss would be. And she needed him. And he was hers.

Shepard continued to her heart's delight, enjoying him, devouring him. To her surprise, he didn't beg her to stop, refusing even to cry out. His breath was measured, as though lost in meditation. Impressed by his resilience, her respect for him grew: he was far stronger than she gave him credit for.

"Jeff… you don't have to prove anything to me. I can go easy on you if you need me to."

"Hell no." He barely managed a whisper, but his tone was defiant.

Poised above him, struggling to keep control but desperately craving satisfaction, the sensation of his cock hard against her was unbearable. She impaled herself on him, making no effort to stifle her moans. He fit her perfectly, hitting her g-spot with each delicious thrust. Oh. Fuck. Yes. Jeff grabbed her hips, arching his back to match her pace, driving himself deeper. Her body was aglow, every nerve firing in response to his insistent presence, heat growing within her to a fiery blaze. Lightning coursed through her as she reached her climax, releasing her biotic hold on her lover and triggering a massive rush of endorphins to overload his senses. The ship melted away and there was only her, only him, and they too vanished into all-consuming bliss.

Joker was drowning and he didn't care. Three decades of living in constant pain had shifted his threshold of tolerance far beyond most humans, but Shepard's witchcraft was beyond anything he'd ever known. His pain was gone: he felt reborn, purified. She'd pushed him to his limits, but he refused to give in: Shepard had finally met her match. If only he could remember how to breathe. He brushed aside the strands of her hair covering his face, affectionately stroking the goddess collapsed atop him.

"Holy shit, commander."

"Commander?" Her dreamy gaze hardened at the mention of her rank, and she quickly climbed out of bed. "I have to go… do stuff." Right. Not the cuddly type.

"Kiera." That got her attention. "I get it, you're a cold-hearted bitch who grew up on the streets. You keep everyone at arm's length. I'm a jackass who put my reputation and my career above everything else. You've probably never been on a second date. Neither have I."

She eyed him warily, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Don't think I was too far gone to hear you screaming my name. I'm willing to bet you've never met anyone strong enough to handle you. If you ever want to do this again, bring your gorgeous ass back over here. Otherwise, it's been fun and I'll see you on the bridge." By the way, I think I'm in love with you.

It took all his resolve to hold her gaze, giving her his best rakish grin as he watched her contemplate her next move. When she bit her lip, he knew he had her hooked.

"You're not going to get all emotional on me, are you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. I just need a minute to recharge: I'm not even close to being finished with you."

Shepard returned, swaying her hips seductively as she approached. She curled up against him, fitting the contours of her body into his, resting her head on his shoulder and nuzzling his neck. Sweet God, she tasted like honey and cardamom, smelled like sex and cherry blossoms. Before long, every night they weren't in transit he was spending in her quarters. The crew must have noticed, but none dared to mention it in front of her. Months passed before she admitted she loved him, blurting it out at the height of her ecstasy, stars streaming by as they made love in the cockpit.

"I know." Her expression was priceless. "Lucky for you, I love you too."