Calm Like a Bomb

Joker hesitantly reached up and brushed her hand off his shoulder, fidgeting a little. He unabashedly knew that he was the best pilot in the galaxy, and knew he did his job well. It was usually only himself who made talk of his abilities, however. The compliments and mention of 'appreciating' him made the helmsman feel as if his cheeks might be burning, and he looked away.

"So I can talk about being unsure if I can measure up to defeating a machine race as a result of being dumped, but complimenting you is too heavy?" Bailie grinned and nudged his shoulder affectionately. "Come on, Joker. Take some credit!"

A thought raced through his mind. He'd always been one for risks and impossible odds. Evidently, so was Bailie. What if she didn't come back the next time she strode down that hallway with fire in her eyes and a purpose in her trigger finger? Fuck it.
His heart pounding in his chest, he reached out with his left arm and cradled the back of her head, pulling her close to him. In one smooth movement, he slid his arm around her other side, and pressed his lips to hers. The skin of Bailie's arms were cool to the touch, as he discovered trailing an errant hand down one. He felt her body stiffen with surprise, but she did not pull away from him. Rather he was sure she relaxed in his grip. Or, had she simply resigned to wait until he was finished? Oh Jesus. Just as quickly as it had happened, he backed off, the tingling, almost sickly sweet rush still resounding at the back of his throat. Burning holes with his gaze in the metal box that surrounded him, he searched frantically for something to say.

The auburn hairs at the side of his cheek prickled as they were disturbed by Bailie's hand as she forced him to face her. Fuck. He watched, mute, as her eyes, green as summer grass, seemed to size him up. Or was she simply looking on the face of one of her oldest friends? He dared not move an inch, lest she take more of a vengeance on him than necessary.
"Look, Bai-- Shepard..." Joker haltingly began, his mouth dry as paper, but he was cut short. Her hand swept from his cheek to his neck, and suddenly she was pressed against his side, kissing him with an energy that sent little shocks all the way down his spine. His eyes closed as he felt her slide from where she had been sitting beside him to hover in front of him on her hands and knees. With delicate reservation, her legs rested on either side of his, one arm supporting herself as she leaned in close.
"It's okay," she whispered, just below his ear, and then he felt those cool lips pepper kisses down his neck, only coming to a rest at the collar of his uniform. 'Okay' was not the word. Shepards' right hand swathed down his chest, hidden in the thick protective black fabric, glinting in the dim light of the elevator. It trailed down his abdomen, which tensed slightly at her touch, before he felt her fingers acutely resting on his thigh. He felt himself stir as she brushed her fingers over the fly of his pants, her lips returning to plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck, and to softly nip his ear.

In return, Joker ran his hands up her arms and pulled her a little closer to him, relishing the soft feel of the fine, short hair on Bailie's head against his palm. This opportunity could end at any moment. In fact, it might even be some kind of incredibly vivid dream, so there was no reason not to be greedy. As he lay his head back from the kiss, he slyly bit her lower lip, barely more than a graze of his teeth against the soft flesh.

She exhaled from her nose, a quiet, amused sound of approval. Wasting no time in upping the ante, Shepard's right palm cupped the straining material covering the swelling bulge that Joker was instinctively attempting to hide by tugging down the front of his shirt. It was, however, entirely ineffectual as it was tucked neatly behind the wide belt of a Cerberus uniform. He squirmed beneath her, and must have made a sound, he realised, as he heard a gentle chuckle in response. Joker felt Shepard's fingers searching for the clasp on his pants, and dared to look her in the eye. This was sneaky, and improper, and he knew it. A conniving smile worked its way across his features, and a thrill shot up through his stomach as he saw her mirror it.

There was little time to take this in, however, as he felt a very sudden release of pressure from around his waist, and heard a loud 'clack' as his belt buckle hit the floor. In this same instant, Shepard leaned down and kissed the centre of his chest, still covered by the uniform. After a brief pause, she followed it with another a little way down past his sternum. She kissed over the plastic covering his stomach, and he felt himself flex in anticipation, his hand gripping Bailie's wrist as she continued southbound. Fingers unzipped his fly, and then slipped inside his pants, prising him free from the near painful restraint they had become.

He gasped as he felt her slim fingers wrap around the length of his exposed cock, and form a firm grip. Looking down, he could see Bailie returning his gaze, her sharp features softened by a faint smile. The pilot clenched his teeth as she stroked up its length, slickened with his excitement. She seemed pleased at feeling it throb between her fingers, and at watching a drop of clear liquid well up, dripping down its length onto her hand.

His eyes were half closed as he slid his palms beneath the front of her officer's uniform. Bailie's skin was soft and her shape's curves were sleek, effortlessly guiding his hands to sweep over the easy hourglass that formed her body. When she flicked the overcoat's fastener and let it slide, forgotten, to rest on her arm, he froze.

He had thought many times over about a moment like this. His imagination had filled in the blanks for him on more occasions than he could care to remember. It was always in a few stolen moments when the tension grew too much to plainly ignore, when he could get away from the crew, and away still further from prying digital eyes, he had indulged and thought about doing things like this with Shepard. She had been the sole source of his most private affections for some time now. The pressure of wanting to make it real had been too much for him to fight anymore. His invitation had, for some reason, been accepted, and he was not about to argue with it.

With sudden zeal, he gripped Shepards' arms, dragging her down to his level, letting her hear his ragged, shallow breath. He shifted his left arm around her neck, keeping her where he wanted her as his free fingers went exploring. He found himself rubbing the firm shape of her ass, and gently pressed his hips upwards and against her body, hiding nothing about what he wanted from his commander.

With an air of obeisance he had not expected, Bailie observed him out of the corner of her eye as she undid a buckle of her own, and slid one leg out from her pants. The light gleamed off her exposed skin. Aside from her right leg which still remained clad, just a disregarded overcoat, a black brassiere, and a small scrap of equally dark fabric that could be constituted as underwear disguised Bailie's body from him. Joker hesitantly allowed his knees to sink to the floor completely, providing Shepard with a level ground. Bailie took the opportunity to lean down and coax him into a kiss, taking delight in the soft scratching of his russet bristles against her lips, and the feel of his breath on her cheek.

Bailie's will to resist ran out. With a deft movement, she shoved aside the tiny underwear and gripped his cock, squeezing its ample girth as she palmed it towards her entrance. His grey eyes snapped open as she smoothly curved her hips downwards, taking inch after inch into her willing self. Her body trembling with unhinged desire, she allowed a sound to escape her, her lips still locked with Joker's.

Holding Shepard close to him, he placed his hand on the back of her head, and more tenderly than he had initially intended. He was unsure how she would respond to the gesture, but, things were now wildly out of control already, why waste this moment? His focus was lost immediately as he felt her lift, then press down again. Slowly, she rocked atop him. His excitement was such that after a mere several moments, a familiar tingling ball began to pulse in the pit of his stomach, growing warmer and spreading all up and down his body. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he wordlessly gestured at Shepard, nodding his head as if to say 'turn around.'

Pleasantly amused, he looked on as Bailie turned to face the wall. A little gracelessly, he came up behind her, and urged her to her feet. He heard the soft 'clink' sound as she grabbed the handrail, and invitingly pressed her firm ass against his hips. Joker needed no second prompting. Lost in lust, he crudely clasped his hands around her hips and thrust himself inside her, his lips parting with a gutteral, passionate sound. Curling himself over her almost possessively, he looked down to see his cock disappearing into her again and again, faintly gleaming with her juices. Simultaneously, he became aware of a low, shuddering thrumming in addition to the deliciously lewd sounds of hip to tensed ass.

Shit, the elevator! Without even thinking, his left hand shot to the control pad, palm rapidly hammering the 'Emergency Stop' button. The lights in the elevator flicked red, and the two felt a slight bounce as the box's brakes cut its descent. Joker focussed his efforts on what he was feeling, rather than the impending sense that time was running out. His fingers dug into Shepard's hips so hard that he illicited a sound from her, a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that sent him rocketing over the edge. Before he knew it, he was releasing all his tensions into her and allowing himself to be lost in the fiery pulses of warmth that invaded every corner of his being. Sweet relief washed over him, and he half lay over her, his stomach and chest held tightly to her back. It was a cherished, but brief moment that he spent, filled only with the sounds of their breathing, before he finally stepped back from her.

In silent reverie, the two clambored to get their articles of clothing assembled as they should be. Relentless in her attempts to flatten out the wrinkles on her smart overcoat, Bailie noticed that odd buzzing sensation one feels when one knows that they are being watched intently. She fussed with herself a little more, butterflies returning to her stomach. She could handle hostage situations, disarm bombs, stabilise freighters' decaying orbits, and be the sole survivor of the first recorded human encounter with a Thresher Maw, but hell if she could face her friend. Shepard had always watched Joker from afar. There had always been a fluttery joy when she had returned to the Normandy after yet another gunfight, and had seen him, constant as ever. Everyone else had gone their own ways, and asked Shepard to buy their assistance with favours. Joker was simply the rock in her world. Always there with a quip and a ship. Had this just been a maddeningly vivid daydream, sleep deprived and trapped in an elevator for an hour? She felt a prodding on her upper arm, his fingertips barely there, getting her attention. Bailie looked up and into the eyes of someone who was now, and forever would be, vastly more than her best friend. She had nothing to say.

"You need to press the button to get it going again," he muttered. When she gave him a blank, distant look, Joker awkwardly cleared his throat, and pressed it for her.
"Oh, right. Yes. Thanks," she blurted, feeling a familiar itching heat spread over her cheeks and nose. She stared at the shining green light of the control panel as the elevator shuddered to life. Eventually, the doors opened, and she stepped out, eyes fixed on the doors to her quarters. Something occurred to her, and without turning around, she grabbed the doors as they began to slide closed. Bailie looked at him over her shoulder.
"Joker?" She asked.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Why don't you, um. Forget your bunk. For tonight," Bailie dropped her voice to just under her breath. This was a risky proposition, but she didn't care. There was a moment of silence, and Shepard figured he might be hesitating. "Of course, though, it is very late and you must be tired, I'll, uh, I'll let you be?" She stumbled through the words, trying to give him an easy way out. She experienced the sudden and sharp feeling that she was an idiot who had said too much.

She let the door go and heard it roll closed behind her. He wasn't coming with her. Bailie did not look back.