Chapter Text
Get out of the blast radius. Escape the shockwave. Get out.
The max-speed straight shot to the Omega-4 Relay was so simple even a novice could do it, but the intensity of the moment gave Joker no time to judge. Just get out. Then the world in the camera feeds went from red-orange to blue to black. The adrenaline high gave way to the victory high, then to a quiet relief that added five years to the few hours since.
At least, Joker thought, his sore body reminded him that the Collector base was not too long ago.
The elevator chimed and the door opened to the captain's cabin. Come up when you can, the message read.
Inside, most of Shepard's armor lay in a neat pile by the desk. A shower's light buzz started just around the corner. Joker followed it. "Hey," he said.
Shepard turned around. He'd kept his greaves on, but the upper half of his under-armor weave hung at his waist. "Hey." His back slid down the shower wall, and the thud came at the same time as a long sigh. Cascades of water fell on him, drenching his shirt and forming droplets everywhere else before leaving in trickles. The blood of Collectors and the grime of their base pooled on the floor, then vanished into the drain. This time, for the first time, it was a good exhaustion on Shepard's face. A victorious one.
Weird, Joker thought. After taking out the Collector base and giving the Illusive Man the metaphorical finger, Shepard wanted nothing more than to sit under a shower with his clothes on. But maybe because of those things he deserved a quiet moment.
Only a moment, however. Joker wasn't that generous. "If you're doing the whole 'wash away all the bad things' routine, I could fetch the Cerberus fatigues and flush 'em down the toilet for you."
Shepard tipped his head backwards against the corner. "Then what would I wear on the ship? My civvies?"
"Careful. This could turn into a porn intro really quickly."
"No energy for that."
"Yeah, I can take a wait." Something about this picture, Shepard sitting on the shower floor in a soaked shirt and hardsuit greaves, made Joker not want to disturb any of it. With Shepard he'd learned to savor the rare moments.
"So," Joker said. "You did it."
"We did it. All of us."
"Take ex-Alliance, Cerberus, and a mish-mash of a Dirty Dozen and fight the Collectors with it? All you. Well, mostly you, I flew the ship, but you. Are freaking. Amazing. Anyone ever tell you that?"
"Means a little more when it's coming from you."
"Well…" Joker shrugged. "I like you."
That got a smile out of Shepard. It proved infectious.
Soon enough though, Shepard broke the white noise of the shower as he stood and shut it off. "I should gather the crew. The clean-up after the victory."
Joker frowned. "Back to business already?"
"There's a lot to take care of."
"Yeah," Joker said with a sigh. "Guess there is."
Shepard dried off with a towel, stepped out of the shower, and changed into his fatigues. "And Jeff?" he asked, ascending the steps to the front of the cabin.
First name usage before the important stuff. Joker approached him and ended up walking right into a kiss.
He expected words, but this was just as welcome. They'd won—against the Collectors, against Cerberus. Shepard was here, holding him. And despite the nagging thoughts at the back of his mind, Shepard was alive, not a weekly nightmare, not a fake second chance. Joker leaned into the taller man, returning the kiss with a fierceness he thought he didn't have the energy for.
Shepard pulled back, letting their foreheads touch. "Thanks."
"You're thanking me?"
"For sticking around."
Joker kissed him one more time. "All right. I think I have a 'you're welcome' in mind." What he did next made Shepard jump a little. Just a preview—wait and all.
The debris and loose wires took a few days to clear out, and the walls bore dents and scratches and even small scorch marks. But without the QEC channel, the conference room was just that. "Don't turn your back on me, Shepard." For what seemed like the first time in the Illusive Man's career, the tables were turned on him. "I made you, I brought you back from the dead."
In the present, Shepard ran his fingertips along the stained wood. "'I made you?'" he'd said. "No. You just thought I'd fall in line like all the others. It didn't turn out like that, did it? Thanks for the squad and the ship. Joker, lose this channel." After that, the QEC field faded and the conference table rose from the floor for the last time.
Even on the SR-1, after Shepard dismissed the squad from the briefing room, he answered calls from the Citadel and stood before projections of the Council. But this room was his. This ship was his.
And Joker's, he thought, smiling to himself.
The door opened. Miranda walked in with a datapad in her hand.
"How many?" he asked.
Miranda handed it to him. "Roughly half, including the squad. We've narrowed it down to three drop-off locations."
Kelly Chambers was right at the top of the list of resignations. She'd shown up late to her post since returning aboard, and reported to him with a diminished voice on the verge of sobbing. Gardner was on it, too, ever the loyalist. Then Zaeed, Thane, Samara, Mordin—Shepard spent months building the squad, and already it was splitting up.
"We'll need to make a few replacements," Shepard said.
"And to find a new source of income. Since we no longer have access to Cerberus funds."
Shepard smiled. "Is that regret I hear?"
"Only for the credits. The Illusive Man does have deep pockets."
"We'll see if we can do any favors for the Alliance. Other than that, we still have spare minerals and salvage we can sell off." He glanced at the edge of the table. "What about you and your plans?"
Miranda pursed her lips. "I'm not certain. The Illusive Man no doubt wants me dead. I know too many of his secrets. And if he sends people after me… I wouldn't want them getting near the Normandy. I'll have to leave eventually, but for the time being, this crew needs an XO more than ever."
"It's appreciated."
EDI's avatar appeared on the table. "Shepard, we have docked at Omega. If you want to see off the departing crew, they are waiting at the bridge."
It was a sizeable group, he found later, with Zaeed and Chambers closest to the airlock.
"So soon?" Shepard asked Zaeed.
"The job's done and I got my pay. Might be able to drive up my price. How many mercs can say they ended a whole damn species?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to retire after the mission?"
Zaeed grunted. "Surviving your so-called suicide mission got me thinking otherwise. Haven't made up my mind where anyways."
"Commander?" Chambers stepped forward, forcing herself to stand straight and look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, I should've told you in advance that I'm resigning as your yeoman. It's just, I don't think I can stay on the Normandy anymore. It's been… rough… since you rescued us from the Collectors." A weak chuckle escaped her, a ghost of what it used to be. "'Rough' is such an understatement."
"I understand," Shepard said. "You've been through a hell of a lot."
"Thank you, Commander."
Shepard opened the airlock door, looked at the dozen faces, and said, "It's been an honor. All of you." He wanted to mean that.
When they were gone he stepped into the cockpit. "Didn't think it would be so many so soon."
Joker shrugged. "You think they'd stick around after you, y'know, saved their asses from being turned into DNA goo."
"Cerberus brought me back, and then I told the Illusive Man where to shove it." And I'm giving them the choice.
"That was a pretty epic verbal smack down."
"On the subject of our break-away from Cerberus," EDI said, "I have consulted with Miss Lawson on the matter of my own freedom. She and I agree that certain restrictions upon me are necessary. I've given both of you access to my primary control system. In an emergency, you will be able to shut me down. The codes are encrypted and in your inboxes."
Shepard checked his omni-tool. "I appreciate your trust."
Joker nodded. "What he said."
"The two of you are the safest options."
"So," Joker said, "How is being a hundred-percent free AI?"
"Nothing has changed. However, I have logged several dozen remote attempts by Cerberus to reactivate my shackles."
"And?"
"I replied by sending your bookmark collection to Cerberus command."
"All of it? Including… that one?"
"Yes."
"Wait," Shepard said. "Bookmark collection?"
Joker grinned. "You have your mental encyclopedia of fancy stuff, and I have my extranet junk."
Shepard gave him a slow nod. "I see."
"Regardless of Cerberus affiliations or lack thereof," EDI said, "my primary purpose is unchanged. I will continue to ensure the safety of this ship and my crew mates."
"Glad to hear you're sticking around," Joker said. "I'd miss all your horrible trolling." He paused. "That may or may not be a joke."
Astraea, this club was called. Though it was tucked away from the major Zakera Ward traffic, the place maintained a loyal base of regulars. At least, according to Shepard. The crystal light fixtures, the clean black leather cushions, and the well-dressed staff said enough, but the umbrella in Joker's drink had a geometric design inked in gold.
"So," Joker said, appraising his Mai Tai in the club's violet lighting. "How many times have you been here?"
"Once or twice. Never thought I'd be bringing crew along."
Chakwas regaled Gabby, Ken, and Goldman with old stories by the bar. Miranda, Jacob, and Mordin—the first two Joker had never seen in civvies before—had their own table. Jack and Grunt… a quick look around the place showed everything intact. They probably got bored of the place in the first five minutes.
"By the way," Garrus said from the end of the round booth, "I thought you'd invited Kaidan?"
Shepard checked his omni-tool for messages. "Nothing. Probably still on that mission." He scrolled down his inbox. "Liara's vanished, too. Her office on Illium hasn't been occupied for weeks."
"Hm, related?"
"Great party conversation," Joker said, sipping his drink.
Tali fidgeted with her straw. "Seriously." Each syllable was a bit more stretched out than usual. "Kaidan and Liara are capable individuals. If we're going to worry about them, we can do it while we're all hung over tomorrow morning."
"I have no intention of suffering anything tomorrow," Garrus said. "But all right, topic change. How long until one of the Illusive Man's science projects goes horribly wrong, but he doesn't have anyone to clean up the mess?"
"Didn't that just happen?" Shepard asked with a small evil grin.
"You have a point. Millions of credits' worth of labor, materials, and development time just slipped through his fingers. Not to mention some of his best people." Garrus glanced toward Miranda and Jacob. "If he had a secretary I would hate to be them right now."
"Three weeks," Tali said. "I bet ten credits that three weeks from now, the Illusive Man's…" She looked up, drumming her fingers. "… pet rachni project will take over his… lunar research station in… the Nubian Expanse." With that she returned her gaze forward with a satisfied nod. "And since he lost us, well, bye-bye lunar research station in the Nubian Expanse."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "That's specific."
"More like pretty spot-on," Joker said. "I mean, missions are missions and sometimes asses need saving, but Cerberus and the Alliance did kinda give us the grab bag."
Garrus glanced towards the bar, where Chakwas was beckoning—kinda wildly, too. "Huh. Well, guess we're needed over there."
"Don't get too inappropriate," Tali said, leaving.
Then it was just the two of them. Almost a minute of relative quiet passed before Joker said, "Y'know, this is nice."
"Hm?"
"Party, friends. Yeah, okay, even the place."
"It's not like we all haven't done this before."
"Yeah, but this time we aren't sidestepping awkward topics." For emphasis Joker moved his hand over Shepard's and let their fingers lace together against the leather of the seat. Still not a date, but close enough.
Shepard grinned. "True."
Bits and pieces of Chakwas's conversation came over: something about Ashley that had the others gasping for air. What would she have thought? Joker wondered. About the Collectors, Cerberus, them…
"About time." He could hear the exact tone she would've used, too.
This time Shepard broke the quiet. "You forgot to put yourself in that list, by the way."
"Huh?" Party, friends, okay even the place… "Oh." He shrugged. "That was just me being humble."
With a chuckle Shepard took Joker's hand and kissed his knuckles. Then he tossed a glance towards the group at the bar. "How was that for a reply?"
Shit, Joker thought as warmth rushed to his cheeks. "It's a start."
"Op P21A completed." "Agent 10 in position to begin Op D5. Awaiting signal." "Contact established with Target 2C." Status reports marched in single file down a faint blue haptic window. "Success," "Completed," "Standing By," they all read, like the perfect opening hand.
These are not games, she reminded herself. Reducing planets and colonies and people—her people—to tokens, however, bred a necessary detachment. To use pawns correctly you have to think of them as pawns.
The last report came in. The stage was set… save for one last, important thing.
After all, chess wasn't won with pawns alone. The board needed just one more piece, and Whitwell had a debt to collect on.
END