Calm Like a Bomb

Shepard had been cursed with a sleepless night, and, not wishing to cause a scene with anyone, had decided the most prudent thing to do would be to respond to all enquiries expediently, without delay, and without her presence. The Normandy was en route to the years late distress call of Jacob Taylor's father's ship, the Hugo Gernsback. Though travel from system to system was faster than light, travel between different areas of one sometimes took days, or weeks, and Shepard knew she still had a good three days to go. Burying herself in work seemed to do the trick, but, eventually, she had to surface for air.

Of course, he was there. For the same purposes, too, no less. Bailie swallowed her pride and passed him to retrieve some food. With a grace that spoke of harnessed emotions, she sat at the table on the other side of the mess hall, and at the furthest chair away from the main table. It was impossible to escape him. She couldn't see him, but she could feel he was in the room, and she hated that she loved it.

The food was good. It had always been a habit of Bailie's to linger at a table whilst the food settled, and she took to poking holes in the bottom of her empty carton as she thought. The galaxy needed her. It needed her to be stable so that she could do all of what was heaped upon her shoulders. Her crew needed her to be stable. They had all been tolerant and had given her her space for today, but another day of this and scuttlebutt would start blabbing. Doubtless it was already circulating that Joker and Shepard were involved in some kind of disagreement, and the last thing she wanted to see happen was have that impact him negatively. She was in charge, she had let this happen. It didn't matter that the both of them had a part in it as people, Shepard reasoned. This mission and its crew were her responsibility. Nothing would excuse her from that, and nor would she ever want something to.

"You gonna eat that?" a voice disturbed her relentless concentration on her mission to perforate her styrofoam carton with more holes than there were stars.
"Eat what?" Bailie muttered, looking up to see what Joker was pointing at.
"That," he said, gesturing towards the small brown packet that sat at the edge of the table.
"That's my cake," she grumbled.
"I know," he said. He didn't ask, he just sat. "I asked if you were going to eat it or not."
"Why are you talking to me?" Bailie peered at him confused.
"Because I want your cake," he shrugged. Dick.
"Take it," she gestured, returning to stabbing her carton with renewed zeal.
"Come on, it can't be that easy. What, is it carrot cake or something? Don't you want it?"
"What the hell are you on about? If you want it, I've given it to you. Just go ahead and take the damn cake!" Shepard barked sourly. He grinned.
"Okay," he said, and left. Bailie looked up to see the small box still on the corner of the table, untouched. She shook her head, unwrapped the cake, and ate it.

Shepard lay on the foot of her bed, looking up through the glass into the dark expanse that spread out for aeons. Flames of blue fluttered like feathers as they played about on the glass. Bailie felt a blessed heaviness overtake her, and her eyes closed. Steadily, the thrum of the Normandy grew quieter and quieter, until Shepard herself was a part of it, and then it became nothing at all.

Perhaps five seconds had elapsed when a small chime sent her shooting bolt upright. Holding her head in her hands, she let out a sigh.
"Go away," she said quietly. The chime sounded again, and, with a resigned sigh, Bailie walked to the door, smartening her slightly wrinkled clothing as best she could on the way.
"We've still eighteen hours before we pinpoint that signal, there is nothing I can do to get you there any faster," she bargained with the door. When no one answered, Shepard opened the door, and her officious expression turned into confusion.
"Oh," she said, nonplussed. "I ate it, I'm sorry," she yawned as she leaned on the doorframe.
"No, you're not," he leaned against the doorframe as well.
"Is there something you need, Joker?" Shepard asked, eyeing him.

The hallway was quiet, and both of them seemed at a loss for words. Shepard sighed, and it occurred to her that she might be being difficult. Sure, he'd been an ass earlier, but he was clearly here to apologise. Bailie had been his friend since the very beginning, and she knew he wasn't a very verbal kind of person. He preferred to keep his cool and say nothing as opposed to the wrong thing. Shepard had always been more of one for words, so she decided she would be the one to confess, as it was obvious enough that he wouldn't. She knew that she wasn't the only one with problems and baggage to carry around.
"I guess I had imagined it might've happened a little differently, but... I really liked it. You caught me off guard, you're my best friend, but I've always, uh..." Shepard hesitated, her guts squirming like a trapped animal, and she summoned an awkward, sheepish smile. Whatever it was she was about to say was cut off as he stepped forward and leaned down. It wasn't much, a gentle brush of his whiskers against her cheek as he planted a kiss, but she fell silent. Had she heard him say something? 'I'm sorry,' perhaps? It had been too quiet for her to make out, but the sentiment was plain, and that was enough.

Bailie returned the gesture, but couldn't find it within herself to tear away from him just yet. She wanted to make it easy, to give him a distinct window of opportunity that he could use to either walk away, or stay and see what happened. She wanted so much for him to choose, to guide her, as even she wished to be led in some things. He stood still as she ran her hands up his arms, Shepard visibly calculating. With that momentary pause behind her, she used one hand to tip his head towards her and she kissed him roughly, the bill of his cap pushed up and out of the way. The other hand she swept up his front to rest on his chest, and it was in this same instant that she became aware of him kissing her back with fervour. She could feel the dull thud of his heartbeat on her palm, strong and quickening with the passing seconds. In an equally coarse manner, she released him, pushing his chest as she pulled back, as if to make a point. Shepard said nothing, but her verdant eyes spoke volumes. He had already closed the gap between them, a purposeful look in his own.

Her heart leapt to her throat as she slammed the button to open the door to her quarters with a closed fist. As the door hissed, shutting behind them, they were up against the reinforced wall of the fish tank. The soundless impact of his back to the glass caused colourful fish to shoot away in all directions. Refusing to simply be a passive party, Joker set to work opening Shepard's jacket, fingers clumsy with the thrill of the moment. Rougher this time, more insistent, Bailie popped his belt open, hooking her fingers into the sides of his pants, resting her cheek against his neck.

In a state of half undress, they stumbled their way onto her bed, Joker atop her. She gasped as she felt his cold hands on her skin, his touch travelling down the length of her body, stopping to rest on the small piece of triangular fabric between her legs. She closed her eyes as she felt his weight rest on the bed beside her. Instinctively, her ankles slid apart, and she bit her lip as his fingers began a slow circular movement, sending small waves of warmth coursing through her. Bailie's back lifted in a gentle arc from the mattress as he continued. With great effort, she gripped his hand and pulled it to her lips, kissing up to the wrist before easing him overtop her again. She grinned as she took in the sight of his arms on either side of her, the muscles taut. Scanning downwards, she pulled his pants down past his hips, and bit her lip once more at the sight of the material holding his smooth, straight shaft flush with his flat stomach. It was hot to the touch, firm and hard beneath her fingers. She heard him make a small, suppressed sound of desire and impulsively bucked his hips.

Bailie narrowed her eyes with pleasure at his reaction, and allowed her hand to glide down its length. She gripped it at its root and began to work it, marvelling at the way the skin made a perfect circle around the tip on the upstroke. He sank his chest down towards her and cursed breathily in her ear, his cap finally falling from his head to lie forgotten beside them. Bailie carefully wrapped her legs around his hips, directing him. She released her hand's grip, leaving him poised at the threshold to her body. As soon as she let go, he thrust inside her. Her body, shocked at having the burning void within her suddenly being so completely filled, shuddered in ecstasy. She could feel every detail of its thick and finely contoured length.

Bailie placed her arms around his neck, fully wrapped around him. Breath escaped her as she felt him retract, then drop against her again, the first in a series of hastening movements. Her arms tightened around him as he paced himself, her hips curved up into him, encouraging him to move faster. To take her harder. Knowingly, he slowed himself almost to a stop, ignoring her squirms. He looked down at her with a smirk, taking self-indulgent satisfaction in the way she strained to have him. Bailie's arms involuntarily shook, and their eyes met, seemingly the only things of colour in the sterile greys of her quarters.
"Please," she implored, nothing more than a soft whisper. He pushed into her ever so slightly, and Bailie's hands broke from the tight hold she'd had around his shoulders. "Please," she asked again, and was rewarded with such enthusiasm that she could not keep silent.

She could feel the pressure inside him was building by the way he squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth open with the sounds of one who couldn't hold back anymore. He was very close now, feverish in the way he held her, rapid in the way he ravaged her. He was not alone in the animalistic expressions as Bailie raked her nails down his back. In his throes he had begun to kiss and nip at her neck, grabbing her arms forcing his weight down on her wrists that he pinned level with her shoulders. Feeling his mounting shudders as if they were her own, she found that with each of his impacts, more and more control was slipping from her grasp. She heard the sharp hiss of him sucking in breath between bared teeth, and he grew jerky in his movements. Was that her name she heard on his lips? Her focus had flown far from such earthly things as words. A fuzzy, yet electric feeling hijacked all of Bailie's senses as she felt her insides slicken still further by all of what he had to give.

As the waves faded and reality formed again, Bailie accepted him into her arms. It was as if all the strength had gone from Joker. He lay heavily on his side, facing her, the blush of passion still strong on his face. After a moment, he opened one eye, closed it again, and lay on his back. Shepard shoved her jacket the rest of the way off and lay her chin on his shoulder. There was a kind of peace for a moment, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat slow. Looking up at the ceiling, she smiled at the familiar mass effect flickers, dancing among the stars they passed.