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He didn't notice it at first, not until it became a pattern. She kept touching him. She never did before. Always kept a physical distance, even when they talked about things they’d never told anyone before, even when they sat together late into the night exchanging stories until everything became either hilarious or devastating. Now there were pats on the shoulder when she left the cockpit, gentle shoves when joking around in the mess hall, pokes to catch his attention when he got lost in his own thoughts.
She wasn’t doing this with anything else, either. He knew she was close to Garrus and Tali, but the most physical affection he’d seen her show either of them was the one time Tali’s veil started slipping off during a heated debate in the mess hall, and Shepard pinned it back in place. He’d assumed she wasn’t big on public displays of affection when she was with Alenko - not to mention they could have gotten in trouble - but the little she had shared about their relationship made him think she hadn’t been particularly physical with Kaidan either. She never hugged, rarely shook hands, and usually ended conversations with a short ‘I should go,’ or ‘See you later.’ But with him…
With him, she was different. At least since she’d come back to life. She was softer. More desperate, always reaching. Like she constantly needed to check he was still there. Or that she was.
It wasn’t the only thing that had changed about her. She’d always seemed more relaxed in his cockpit. She would pull out a book - a real one, made of paper, like in ye olden days - work on her data pad, or just stare out the windshield at the stars flying by. She’d take off her shoes and curl up in odd positions while talking to him about Mindoir and N7 training and her favourite novels. Sometimes she’d yawn, or rub her eyes, or moan that the lights were too light - he’d never seen her look fully rested. But ever since she came back, since they’d been chasing the Collectors like the devil was on their tails, she had started falling asleep next to him. Her eyes would flutter closed, her breathing slow, her book or datapad falling out of her hand until he leaned over to catch it and place it safely on the dashboard. He kept doing what he was doing in silence, feeling like if he stared too intensely or for too long, she would sense it and wake up.
She was sleeping now, curled sideways in the chair, her head leaning on the backrest. Strands of red hair were slipping from behind her ear, falling over her face in a way that would immediately annoy her if she were awake, and he fought the urge to tuck them back into place. Quietly, carefully, he pulled out the box containing his personal items from under the dashboard and unfolded a bundle of fabric to place it over her. She didn’t wake, only grabbed onto a corner instinctively and pulled it closer in her sleep. Joker continued to work, to pointedly not stare, until she stirred. He could see her from the corner of his eye, fixing her hair and straightening up with a small groan, and couldn’t help but smile.
‘Morning, sunshine.’
She blinked, looking down at the fabric wrapped around her with a puzzled expression.
‘What - what is this?’
‘I believe it’s called a blanket.’
Shepard rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with her foot. He fought not to react to the tingling spreading through him. His leg had been asleep. Yes. That was it.
‘I know what it is. Where did you get it?’
‘I bought it.’
She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘You bought it?’
‘Yeah, on the Citadel. That little shop down in the wards, they have some great homeware.’
‘Why?’
Joker shrugged and ignored the warmth creeping up his neck. ‘I get chilly,’ he said. He did not say: ‘because you keep falling asleep in my cockpit and this is the closest I can get to shielding you from it all’.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly. She always seemed to hear the sentence he wasn’t saying out loud.
‘It’s just a blanket.’
‘Uh-uh.’ He risked a sideways glance. She was stroking the fabric with the thumb she usually picked at, with that look on her face she got when she was trying hard not to smile. His heart skipped a beat.
‘Why are you sleeping in here anyway? I’ve seen your cabin. This chair cannot be more comfortable than your bed.’
She hugged her knees to her chest, and the not-smile disappeared. ‘There’s a window above my bed.’
‘What, is all the light keeping you up?’
‘It’s not that.’
Of course not. You idiot. In his mind, she was reaching out to him again, gasping for air. ‘Oh. Right.’
‘I’ll be fine, it’s just taking me a while to get used to it.’
‘Wait.’ He shouldn’t ask. He just had to keep putting his foot in it. ‘You get the same view in here.’
‘I know,’ her voice was so quiet he almost had to strain to hear her over the hum of the ship. ‘It just feels safer.’
How could it? If not for this room, if not for him, she wouldn’t be dealing with any of this in the first place. He couldn’t protect her; hell, he’d done nothing but put her in more danger. Yet here she was. He couldn’t make sense of it. Any of it.
‘Go back to sleep,’ he heard himself say, eyes trained on the stars. ‘I’ll wake you if anything comes up.’