Notes:
1.) I want to give a gigantic 'THANK YOU!' to KrazEELegaL for beta'ing for me. She has been a major help in crafting this story so far.

2.) Check out the ME Smut Squad Community! I'm trying to collect as much quality ME smutty-goodness on there as possible, so if that's your thing you may want to look it up and add it. I need a few staff members so if you're interested let me know.

This story will loosely follow the events in ME2 with references to ME1. I won't give you a whole feckin' recap of the story because you've probably already played it three times + by now. I will talk briefly about missions and reference content, but I'll also add bits and pieces here and there to mix it up.

This story is rated a strong M for language, violence, and shmex that leaves little to the imagination. Most of that really isn't here yet, but trust me, it will be. If any of that offends you, I suggest finding another story because you probably won't like mine.

Shepard sat down heavily on her plush bed, the grime from her armor smearing carelessly onto the stark white, clean coverlets. Horizon had been... rough. She stared blankly down at her arms which hung in a defeated fashion off each of her thighs. For the first time in a very very long time her armor felt tight, constricting. She scoffed, her lips turning up in a shadow of a smile. Her armor was thick and hearty. It saved her life through many battles, yet it was unable to protect her from the one thing that truly scared the hell out of her. What semblance of a smile vanished and flipped the buckle connecting her glove to her suit. Ripping the piece of armor off, she threw it at the far wall, but felt no great satisfaction at the hollow thump it made on contact or the muffled thud as hit the floor.

No tears flooded her eyes and her lips didn't tremble under an onslaught of hiccups and sobs. Instead she only watched her armored hand in silence, flexing her fingers into a passive fist. Its unarmored twin sat limply to its right. The color of her bare skin was muted and gray in the faraway illumination from the open bathroom door, the thick shafts of ethereal light falling in stretched and deliberate gashes on the cool metal of the floor. Shepard's slow, steady breaths seemed to roar in her ears in the silence of her surroundings. Her eyes shifted from her hands to look at the elongated shadows cast by the model ships she'd purchased throughout her journey so far. The dark strangeness of the room matched her mood perfectly, for she felt like a stranger in her own skin; these thoughts couldn't possibly be her own.

Shepard didn't give her heart away easily. Kaidan was the first man she ever allowed herself to become attached to. As she reflected on the events, she knew why she had allowed herself to become so damn vulnerable: she had been trying to hold on to anything that felt normal. In those days she had been tossed into a world of nightmarish fairy tale. The reapers were myth, legend. To learn that they not only existed, but were hostile and hellbent on the destruction of life in the galaxy was nearly too much for Shepard to process. To find solace in another being that was real and warm and accepting kept her grounded. Kaidan had offered that to her without judgment and understood why she needed him so badly. There was never the demand for more. He never asked her to drag her feelings out on the table. He merely offered himself as a distraction and, in turn, she offered her strength as a bastion of light in the darkness that was their world at that time.

There was something not only comforting, but sanity saving in Kaidan's arms. It was the one thing that truly felt real in all of those hellish months. It was the reason why she was weak. Though there was never a demand, she had laid her cards out face up for him... Her armor creaked under the flexing of her fingers.

It was times like these that Shepard was reminded of how very small and insignificant she was. Though Cerberus had spent an obscene amount of money to bring her back into the game, she was still fragile in a way that a bullet could never render, weak by standards not determined by flesh. It didn't make her sad. It made her angry. This was not supposed to happen. People like her don't fall in... She shuddered at the thought, but let it continue. They don't fall in love because of this very moment. They don't fall in love because love is selfish and they cannot afford to be selfish. They don't fall in love because doing so allows another person to have such utter and complete control over their emotions and actions. Shepard's actions needed to be her own. She couldn't allow herself to make stupid and selfish decisions solely based on her feelings. Never again. Never.

She stood abruptly, walking to her bathroom to peer into the mirror above her sink. Her pale skin looked sickly in the hospital-quality lighting. Her eyes were red, and her brows turned downward as she realized that her efforts were moot; there was a trail of water leading from each eye down to the line of her jaw. Her unarmored hand ripped the tears from her face, erasing any sign of them ever being there. She definitely would not cry, but she would do the next best thing. A bestial roar erupted from her throat and she slammed her gloved fist into the mirror, her raged face erupting into a shower of glass shards. She noted, with a quirk of her lips, that the sound that the glass made as it hit the floor was really rather pretty.

Joker was sorely tempted to patch into the Commander's quarters to check on her. His finger hovered over the connect button, uncertainty restraining his movements. When she had returned from Horizon she had only stopped briefly to tell him where to fly next. Her eyes focused on something outside of the window, refusing to meet his. When he had turned to speak with her he noticed something. It was nearly lost in the brevity of the encounter and the nonchalant way in which she handled the situation, but in her eyes he noticed sadness and it had shaken him to his core.

Shepard never let her weaknesses show to anyone. When Ashley had been killed in action Jane... Shepard had been angered because she felt as if she failed her crew, but she never let an ounce of sadness show. Now as he reflected on the situation, Joker was sure that such a feat had been very difficult to endure, but it had been necessary for the crew's sake. The morale would have plummeted had they been able to see how very human Shepard was. They needed an invincible leader, one who could stand up to Geth without flinching, one who could take a bullet and push forward, one who could make the tough decisions in the wake of utter peril. She had done it and the crew stayed strong. Saren had been defeated. The Reaper threat had been thwarted. They had accomplished what many would have found to be impossible.

Defeated, Joker pulled his hand away from the console and simply stared at the screens in front of him. He didn't have the kind of relationship with Shepard that would merit such an obvious disregard for privacy. As deep as Joker's friendship with Shepard ran in his mind, he was rather positive that the commander did not feel the same way. Sure, Shepard found him good for a laugh or two, but he also doubted that she'd really appreciate him disrupting her alone time after such a tough mission. He knew that over half of the colony had been taken by the Collectors. He also knew that Shepard would be angry at herself for not stopping those bastards. But sad? No. That was all from Kaidan.

Joker shifted in his chair and rested his chin in his open palm. He'd been sitting here all day and ass was totally starting to get numb at this point. An irritated sigh puffed from his lips.
"Would you like to rest, Mr. Moreau? I am easily able to pilot the ship in your absence," EDI's bright blue bulb burst into existence, causing Joker's chin to slip from his hand in surprise.

"Shit! I nearly bit the tip of my tongue off..." he popped a finger in his mouth to check for blood. None, of course. "And not a chance," he grumbled and wiped his eyes, the lids heavy with the obvious need for sleep. There were few places that Joker would sleep on the ship. Firstly, fuck pods. He definitely wasn't going to sleep in a glass coffin that would only leave him with a crick in his neck. Secondly, people are too damn loud to sleep in the bunks. He'd never get any rest at all and he didn't relish the thought of stripping to his skivvies in front of a bunch of dudes anyway. He'd much rather just do what he normally did: fall asleep in his chair, drool all over himself for a few hours, wake up, shower, and start his day over again. The blue light of EDI's 'face' retreated as the lids of his red-rimmed eyes slid closed.

"Damn it, Grunt! Move your ass!" Shepard took cover behind an unsteady pillar. The thresher maw shifted its' snake-like body to a more advantageous position to gain line of sight on the Krogan. Shepard ground her teeth as he moved too slowly and a stream of acidic spit sprayed onto his armor. In proper Krogan style, he seemed less than disturbed by the attack and turned to fire a round into the creature's gaping mouth.

"Don't worry about me, Shepard. This worm's as good as dead," his gruff voice crackled in her earpiece.

"Yeah, helping peel that armor off after it's melted onto you will be a real treat, I'm sure," Shepard puffed a stray lock of black hair from her eyes and shot a pulse of biotic energy at the creature before it could retreat to the sand again.

"Careful, Shepard. You make me think that you might enjoy that a little too much," Grunt's rough voice quipped in return followed by a loud guffaw at her exasperated sigh.

"Eyes up, guys. It's moving to the left," Shepard could feel the ground shifting to accommodate the worm's gigantic body as it slid into a new position in the sand. The apocalyptic setting in which they found themselves seemed pretty damned appropriate. Bodies were scattered about the scene. Toppled structures were re-purposed as cover from the maw's deadly attacks. Unused ammo littered the area like trash. Shepard grabbed a clip, slamming it home in her weapon. As the maw reappeared, she steadied the heavy pistol in both of her hands, abandoning cover briefly to shift to a new position. While Grunt may not have minded the acid spit, she sure as hell didn't want her armor glued to her skin. She fired off another wave of biotic power at the creature's head.

To her left, she could see Garrus lining up a shot on the maw's head. It didn't take long before he squeezed off several potentially fatal shots. The worm roared in pained rage and lobbed a ball of acid directly in Garrus' position. He lunged over the makeshift cover of a crumbled wall to avoid the attack and dashed in Shepard's direction. He slid in next to the her, almost pushing her over in his quick dive. With his sniper rifle still held firmly in his grasp he quickly resumed his position, pumping out several more shots. An acidic blast was shot in their direction again, and though majority was blocked by their cover, enough liquid sprayed over the barrier to hit Garrus square in the back and on his lower neck. He grunted in pain as the fast acting acid worked its' way into his scales. Jane dropped her weapon momentarily, moving close to Garrus and using her gloved hand to wipe off as much of the offending liquid as possible.

"I'm okay, Shepard," Garrus ground out, picking up her weapon and handing it back to her. "Let's just kill this son of a bitch."

Shepard nodded with a scowl, watching briefly as Garrus reloaded his rifle. It felt as if she'd gone through fifty bullets and more biotic energy than she'd used in quite awhile and the damn thing was still moving as if the battle had only just begun.

"Well, maybe if you actually attack the damn thing instead of trying to hide..." Grunt's voice grumbled teasingly in her ear. Though she knew he was only joking, she felt her anger flare regardless. She felt the ground shift again and abandoned her cover completely, holding her pistol in one hand and readying her biotics with the other.

"Shepard! Don't be stupid! Get back here!" Garrus growled, grasping at her ankle with his talons.
Her eyes shot a very serious and very hard glance over her shoulder, and Garrus' hand retreated reluctantly. He had never seen her look so angry before. His mandibles twitched in response and she turned her attention back to the maw. As its' head burst through the sand, she fired off several shots, the bullets penetrating it's thick skin with frightening ease. Garrus' handiwork had obviously left the worm dazed, but Shepard's shots elicited a hitch in its movements. She took the opportunity to slam its' head backward with an immensely powerful burst from her biotics. The worm faltered, shaking its head. Just as she was sure that the worm was about to fall, it roared in defiance, moving to bring it head down on Shepard's uncovered and vulnerable position.

"Move it, Shepard!" Garrus sprinted to her position with cat-like grace, wrapping his arm around her waist and throwing her toward cover. He barely managed to scramble out from under the maw's giant jaws as its' face slammed into the ground with enough force to cause the terrain to shake. Shepard grunted as her thigh connected with the metal landscape and blinked in confusion as she heard Garrus' pained growl from beside her.

The unmistakable pump of a shotgun indicated that Grunt had decided to move in for the kill. The shot rang out and Shepard and Garrus turned their attention to see him utterly covered in what could only be described as 'Thresher Maw Goo'. His shotgun was slung over his shoulder as he looked at them both with an appropriately cocky grin. "Gonna get up?" he held a hand out to Shepard first. "I like your style, Shepard. I should get you angry more often."

"That was way too close," Garrus growled as he stood. He grasped his arm in his hand, the armor masking whatever injury was beneath. "I've never seen you act more reckless. What the hell has gotten in to you? You could have gotten yourself killed out there!"

"I don't need a nanny, Garrus," Shepard said quickly, dusting off her armor with shaky hands. However, as much as she hated it, he was right. She had let her anger get the best of her and made a choice that nearly got herself and Garrus killed. Grunt gave a hearty chuckle at her snarky reply and turned to head back to the main Krogan encampment. At least one of them was in a good mood.

'One down,' Shepard thought, watching Grunt carefully out of the corner of her eye. He was cleaning the remains of the thresher maw from his shotgun with a cloth. She had never seen a bigger smirk on anyone. Ever. She could barely help it when her own smile crept to her lips. She knew that each member of her squad would have some piece of business to handle before they dove into hell. She would gladly help in any way because it would be unfair to allow them to perish with unfinished affairs. 'Get everything squared away and then take the plunge...'The transport hitched from a bout of turbulence, but smoothed out soon enough.

Garrus, in contrast, wouldn't even pull his eyes from his boots, the orbs stormy in his dark thoughts. She could see that his neck was still slick from his sloppy application of medigel, though it looked far less inflamed. She knew that he was very upset with her, but she couldn't find it within herself to apologize. Beyond that, she was baffled as to why the hell he was so angry in the first place. She'd made many other reckless decisions on her missions, so why was he so up in arms about this one? Speaking of arms, she cringed as she noticed that his was still held limply at his side.

"Do you need some medigel for the ride back?" she offered professionally, pulling a tube of the salve from the small compartment on her armor and motioning toward his arm.

"I'm fine, thank you."

Shepard blinked, her eyes narrowing at his clipped reply. A swift hand reached over and barely bumped his arm, lips turning downward at the hiss she elicited from him. He turned to her with gritted teeth and a snarl. "Give me. Now," she said sternly as she pulled off her gloves and scooted closer to him.

He sighed in frustration, unbuckling his glove and lower arm armor. Shepard shooed his hands away and slid the pieces off gingerly, taking much care not to jar his injured limb. Though she was by no means a physician, she'd seen her share of injuries and she knew the sign of a broken plate. It was nearly the equivalent of a broken bone for a human. Careful eyes and gentle fingers probed and inspected for injury, no plate or space between being left less than thoroughly scrutinized. Garrus' mandibles twitched as he watched her with careful eyes though he said nothing.

"I don't see an in-" she stopped short upon coming to the joint of his arm. "Hmm." The tough flesh between the plates seemed swollen and there was a sliver of a fracture on the plate directly below it. The cap from the tube of medigel fell to the floor carelessly and she plopped a small glob on the thin but jagged crack. Slender fingers worked the gel in carefully." Obviously there isn't much to be done. It looks like you probably just wrenched your arm."

"Gee, I wonder how that happened," Garrus said, releasing a breath. Shepard's sharp eyes connected with his for a brief moment before she removed her hands and handed his armor back. A sharp chuckle caused both of them to turn to Grunt.

"What?" Garrus and Shepard asked together sharply, irritation clearly evident in both voices. The moment only succeeded in causing the Krogan's laughter to double. Both sighed, again in unison, and he nearly dropped his shotgun as he moved to wipe the tears away from his eyes.

There was little left to talk about when the group boarded the ship. Grunt headed to his quarters after a hearty slap on Shepard's back which nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Garrus walked past her, avoiding even brushing against her as if she was diseased. She found it difficult not to reach out and poke his arm in irritation. The thought made her feel guilty since she was the cause of his discomfort in the first place. Her adrenaline had disappeared soon after the transport had taken off from Tuchanka and she was completely drained. Finding little desire to even begin thinking about the next step in the mission, Shepard padded toward her quarters with a scowl.
"Commander, you have a new message when you have time," Kelly greeted her cheerfully with a wave as she rounded the CIC, helmet in hand.

"I'll read it in my quarters. Thank you, Kelly," Shepard wasn't surprised when her voice came out somewhere between a mumble and a growl. Kelly eyed her suspiciously as she walked directly up to the elevator and inside without stopping. She didn't bother to turn around, opting instead to simply throw a careless hand out to slap the desired button. The moment that it took for the doors to slide shut seemed painfully slow.

Shepard spent the ride up to her quarters with her sweat slicked forehead pressed against the cool metal of the elevator. There was something so calming about the ride up. Shepard had an affinity for small spaces, always had. While the elevator wasn't exactly tiny, it was small enough to make her feel comfortable, safe. She assumed that it probably had to do with her childhood, though she hated to think about those times. Her past bit at her thoughts, made her feel weak again. That's what she had been. Helpless, but not hopeless.

Growing up on Earth had been terribly difficult. She never had a chance to be normal. Her father had left before she could remember and her mother had been a junkie because of it. Shepard couldn't remember how many times she had found her mother on the kitchen floor crying and yelling, fingers making lazy patterns with her tears on the dirty tile. Her child self would coax her from the floor and lead her to her bedroom, wiping the dust from her nose.

Those had been the better times. The worse times came when her mother would partake of enough sand to render her with very brief but dangerous biotic abilities. She would smash their meager belongings in her red haze, screaming at ghosts of people long gone. Small items, picture frames or ashtrays would be lifted in a wobbling fashion and hurled angrily into walls, windows, even herself or Jane on occasion. When the haze had dissipated, she would fall limply where she stood, angered by the loss of what little power she could manage to grab at wildly with dirty, clawing fingers. Jane would run back to her room as fast as she could on her tiny unwashed feet to crawl into her closet, shutting out her mother's sobs and wails of protest. Shepard fed her, bathed her, and cared for her until every ounce of love was used up. She only wanted a mother, but her mother only wanted her fix.

Eleven. That's how old she had been when her mother finally died, still clutching her bag of red sand with cold, greedy fingers. She remembered coming home to find her mother laying stiff on the couch, eyes bulged and excrement pooling on the ratty cushion beneath her. The smell... She held back a gag as she remembered with vivid clarity. She had been put into foster care shortly after, an orphanage with far too many kids and far too little hope. She stayed there for four years before she ran away with Eddie, a leader from a local small-time gang of wayward teenagers, runaways. She fit right in, standing as Eddie's right hand and ruthless business partner. Though many of the teens got wrapped up in the lifestyle, drugs and sex, Shepard treated it as a business. She got in, made her money, and got out. Within two years she had made several contacts within the locals. They stole and did some smuggling, difficult to acquire guns and ammo mostly. Though Eddie always showed great interest in Shepard, she never allowed him near her. She remembered his hands, dirty fingernails, running up her thigh and the swift knee she brought into his crotch,'Don't ever touch me again,'she said with such vicious finality. He had cried. That got her point across; she grinned at the thought.

It wasn't until she was seventeen that Eddie started to smuggle red sand. He kept it from her at first, knowing that she'd never accept such a venture. Though he was only a business partner, he was the only person she'd ever told about her past and her mother. Shepard wasn't dumb. It only took her a few days to find out his dirty secret and she took off to join the military, taking half of the credits in his accounts and leaving only a note: 'I hope you choke on it.' Funny enough, he did. Several years after she'd joined the Alliance she got word that Eddie had overdosed on the stuff just like her mother.

She scoffed, gripping the back of her neck with a shaky hand. She hated when those memories slithered their way back into her brain.

The elevator beeped as it reached its destination and she found herself relieved at the distraction. She pulled her forehead off of the cool door as it slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Her feet fell in heavy, numb steps as she walked to the next door, opening it with a pass of her hand over the holographic seal. Shepard stood in the doorway for a long moment. The room held the same heavy strangeness that it had several days ago as she had sat on her bed with her head in her hands. The majority of the past few days had felt strange really. She didn't like her crew being upset with her. Each argument felt like a personal failure, and today she was rather sure that was truly the case.

'Tomorrow... I'll care tomorrow...'she decided, unbuckling her boots and kicking them off with practiced ease. Soon she had fully stripped her armor from her body, placing it in the cleaning receptacle near her bed. She closed the compartment's door and, using the holographic controls, turned the machine on.

She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and sleep, but her computer mocked her as she passed by to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway, looking at the red blinking light on the side of the screen. She sighed, walking over and prodding the controls with one finger. She didn't bother to sit down; she only crossed her arms over her naked breasts in frustration, reading the name of the sender several times. Kaidan. She clicked her tongue and returned to the previous page, not bothering to read the message. Jane reached out with a quick hand and slapped the picture frame on her desk face down. That was absolutely the last thing she needed right now.

Joker didn't dream very often. His nights were usually rather short and fitful, never falling into a deep enough sleep to achieve a true dream. In fact, his sleep was usually rather light and he was able to hear almost everything that went on around him because of it. The slightest noise would wake him and he'd have to restart his trek toward a shaky sleep all over again. He was thankful that the cockpit was set pretty far away from any activity aboard the ship. It allowed him to sneak a nap or two during down times through the daytime hours and get a few solid hours of rest at night. The days blended together out here. It was always dark and starry outside of his window, but his body was conditioned to tell if it was obscenely late or early and would typically seek to rest of its own volition.

His head twitched to the side in his sleep as, just outside of his own thoughts, he could hear a shuffling noise. It stopped suddenly, almost as quickly as it began. He cracked open an eye to investigate and was greeted by Shepard's curious violet eyes gazing down at him. "Why are you sleeping in here?" her voice was quiet, but with the same hard edge it always had. Her hair was mussed from sleep and she tucked a lock behind her ear.

"This chair is comfy," his unused voice cracked in his simple reply. "And there's no way I'm leaving my baby alone with the Overlord," he added with a yawn, jerking his head to the left to indicate EDI's interface. She only nodded in response and returned her gaze to the windows of the cockpit. Joker shifted to sit more vertically. His previous position had made his neck ache a bit and he rubbed the spot gingerly. "Why are you up, Commander? Need something?"

The shrug he received was not totally unexpected. He didn't figure she'd spill her guts at such a simple question. "Just couldn't sleep is all." He glanced back at her and noticed her eyes drifting over his holographic controls. "I have no idea how you pilot this thing."

Joker's response was quick as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, "No shit. That's why I don't let you touch anything up here. If I left you in here for five minutes we'd crash into the nearest planet and we are notbuilding a third Normandy."

EDI's bulb appeared, "Yes, that would be inadvisable."

Joker's eyebrow quirked upward, "On second thought, how would you like to give it a shot, Commander? Quick request though. On the next Normandy, can we, oh, I don't know, not include an AI?"

Shepard snorted, "Good to see that your wit doesn't wear off with fatigue. When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

"Commander, I never get a decent night's sleep out here. I guess it'd kill them to include private quarters for the pilot," Joker ran his fingers over a few keys to check the status of the ship. "Besides, I get enough to get by."

Shepard shifted on her feet. "I'll see what I can do. I don't want my pilot running off of two hours of sleep and a cup of coffee."

Joker turned to her and grinned, "Thanks, Commander. So, is there anything else I can do for you or do you just enjoy my stellar personality and sense of humor. Hah! Stellar! Get it?"

Shepard raised her eyebrow and her lips quirked upward. She really had no practical reason to have come to the cockpit, in all honesty. Part of her knew that Joker would be here, and damn it, if she didn't need someone familiar who wasn't pissed at her right now. She had spent the several hours since showering just staring into the darkness of her quarters, unable to find sleep. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of rest, the name on her computer screen still flashing in her mind. "No, there's nothing else. I was just walking around the ship. Decided I'd gaze at the stars for a bit. On a side note, definitely not one of your better jokes."

"Eh, I tried. I'm not always sharp when it's so late."

She shifted again and Joker noticed with a sidelong glance that, not only was she dressed in modest sleep attire, she was also barefooted. The whole situation just seemed far too strange for his tastes. He'd never seen Shepard in anything other than armor or regulation suits. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted, paying a whole lot of attention to a screen that really didn't have anything all too important on it. A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled over the space and just as Joker was about to say something stupid to get the ball rolling again, Shepard spoke.
"I…" she began, continuing her thought only after Joker glanced back at her, urging the conversation forward. "I love it so much out here. I mean, outside of our suits and ships we're toast, but there's something so amazing and awe-inspiring about space. How much we still don't know about it all. You'd think we'd be able to decipher a bit more about something in which we're so deeply entrenched."

"I'd think you'd never leave ground again after what happened… Damn, that was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen, and I've seen a lot of terrifying shit," the sentence would be ambiguous to anyone other than the two of them. "I never told you thank you for coming back for my stupid ass."

"No thanks needed, Joker," Shepard smiled down at him.

"If I could have…" Joker started. How could he finish that sentence? If I could have saved you? If I could have been more agile? If I wasn't crippled and slow?

"Don't," her reply was quick and quiet, "It's over now and we're here."

After a few moments of silence, Joker asked a question that had tugged at the back of his mind since he'd learned of her resurrection, "What was it like?" The pilot knew it probably wasn't the best time to bring up the topic of her death, but hell, when would it ever be a good time? 'Hey, Commander! I was just wondering. You remember that time that you got spaced and then burned to a crisp? Yea, how did that go for you?'

"Dying? Not that bad really. A bit of struggling as I realized what was happening…" she paused as she remembered the moments clearly. "But soon it was quiet and still. I can say that it truly was a humbling experience," her small chuckle was bitter. "I was feeling rather invincible at the time. Nothing like a leak in your suit to bring you back to reality." Somewhere in the explanation, her voice had lost its professional edge and she leaned on Joker's armrest, nearly perching on it as she continued. "In all honesty, it's a good thing there was a leak. I'm glad I was out by the time I hit atmo."

"See? That whole bit of conversation is just creepy. I don't think anyone else would actually respond to 'So, how was dying?' with 'Eh, not too bad!'" Joker's lips quirked up as he finally achieved a laugh from her. An honest laugh.

"I'm just thankful to be able to give it a second shot really," the sentence was mostly light-hearted, though it had a serious edge to it. "Maybe I can fix some mistakes I made the first time around."

"Yea, I guess you're right," he shifted his arm as he noticed how amazingly close she was. The same uneasiness crept back into the pit of his stomach. He hated being fucked with, even if Shepard was wholly unaware of his plight. It wasn't very often that he was close to anyone (besides the damn AI, who, in all fairness, wasn't even a 'someone'), especially someone whose company he already found enjoyable. The whole situation would leave him irritated and lonely and he hatedthat feeling more than anything. It was the feeling that he'd had when his friends went outside to play and he was attached to his braces. The same feeling when those friends grew up and started dating, but no girl could handle the severity of his situation. The same feeling when he'd been ridiculed in flight school. In every situation he'd bitten back harshly, refusing to let any of it get him down. He grew bitter, yes. He grew angry, yes. He grew tired, yes. But he wouldn't yield to something that he had zero control over.

"You're a million miles away. You alright?" Shepard's unprofessional voice interrupted his thoughts.

Maybe it was because it was so late on such a strange night, or maybe it was because Shepard was acting so casual with him, but for whatever reason, the moment felt eerily normal. It was almost as if things had never changed and they were simply on rounds between colonies. It was an... unsettling feeling. Joker slid his finger over the metal edge of the control table, making the ships controls dim as the system went into autopilot.

"I- I'm going to go take a shower," he muttered. She moved quickly from his armrest and stepped to the side. She gazed out to the stars again as he struggled slightly to stand. If it would have been almost anyone else Shepard would have offered them a hand. With Joker, he'd only be offended, so she waited and acted as if nothing was wrong, because nothing was. As he began to walk toward out of the cockpit, he was stilled by Shepard's voice.

"I never said thank you," she said, her voice strong again. He turned his face to her over his shoulder, waiting for her to continue. "For being here. I don't know the entire story behind what happened to you after I died, but waking up to a friendly and familiar face meant a lot to me. So thanks."

"No problem, Commander."

Ending Notes: Just cleaning up things a bit as I plan to resurrect this corpse. How is that? -Actual- breaks in content! Huh? Huh?