Chapter Text
Jack fucked up. She knows she fucked up. Sitting in the stupid anti-biotic tech bubble in the corner of the shithole merc bar on Omega was punishment enough.
She hadn’t been careful enough. They had finished the mission, Shepard was going around and dumping the crew off wherever they asked. For Jack, Omega seemed about as good as anywhere, even if Shepard did express some doubt at her when she requested it.
So here she is, finally awake once those heavy tranqs wore off. She still has her omni-tool, so she sends a message to Shepard. Which she hopes actually makes it to Shepard, and not into the void.
She’s really going to owe the Commander for this, if she comes through for her again.
Jack sends the message, and now all she can do is wait, and hope that Shepard makes it here before the person who apparently paid for her does.
-
Jack doesn’t know how long it’s been. She’s almost exhausted herself trying to break out of this thing. It’s worse than the cyro cell on Purgatory. Her reserves are dipping, she’s going to be ravenous when she gets out of here. So hungry she could see herself tearing into one of the guys who brought her here with her bare teeth.
The bar is full of mercs of all kinds. She already saw one fight break out and quickly die down, business as usual.
Suddenly there’s a stir.
Jack looks up and she sees them.
Commander Shepard and her favorite turian wonder-boy, here to save the day.
Jack exhales with relief, and feels pathetic for it. She can’t keep counting on Shepard to be her knight in shining armor whenever she needs something.
There’s an exchange Jack doesn’t hear beyond the little prison, but suddenly the whole room is thrown into motion.
She watches, helpless, as Shepard flips over a table, and the two disappear from view for a moment. Thats when all hell truly breaks loose. Jack is enraptured as Shepard emerges from behind the table and charges, charges, charges, each one followed by a precise few shotgun rounds into her enemies.
As she would hit her target, Garrus would take out whoever was heading for Shepard’s back, knock off someone else at the edge of the room, then swing back to Shepard. Sometimes he would overload a shield just in time for Shepard to get there and make the final blow.
Then Shepard would notice someone sneaking around to get to Garrus, and there she was, unloading a full set of rounds into his assailant while he took out the one on his other flank.
It wasn’t a fight, Jack realized.
It was a dance.
The choreography was so perfect it was as if they’d done it a thousand times together. It was so perfect it made that barely-withheld bloodthirsty part of her ache.
The way they moved with each other, around each other, it spoke of such intense trust Jack almost felt it was a violation to watch. Sure, the Normandy crew had trusted each other, but this was on another level entirely.
She wanted to be part of something like that. Jack knew she was full of endless rage when she fought, and it was messy. Her fights were nowhere near that choreographed skill she saw in front of her now. For her it was just a fight to survive.
Not like this.
It’s not that Jack hadn’t been in a firefight with them before. She just never stood back far enough to see the big, beautiful, fucked up picture those two painted together.
Shepard is jumping over a table preparing a blast when her target suddenly falls under her before she makes the strike. Jack has to cover her mouth in laughter as Shepard turns quickly over her shoulder to glare at Garrus, an obvious ‘What gives?’ Garrus just offers her a shrug before they both jump back to it.
It’s over too soon, and Jack feels the adrenaline rushing just from watching, making her biotics tingle in her hands.
Shepard approaches and unlocks the console holding the barrier in place, and it falls.
“Took you long enough,” Jack says, stepping out of it.
“We left you alone for five minutes,” Shepard responds, shaking her head. “And you already got yourself into trouble.”
“Hanging out with you sad saps made me go soft. It’s not my fault.”
“Uh huh.”
“You know a thank you wouldn’t hurt now and then,” Garrus mentions, and Jack glares at him before looking back to Shepard.
“Look, Shepard, I know you went out of your way for this so… I owe you. Thank you.”
Shepard puts a hand out for her. “You can thank me by staying safe from here on out.”
Jack takes the hand, and for a moment she thinks Shepard might pull her into a hug, in which case Jack would absolutely have to return one of those biotic charges right back at her. Shepard thankfully doesn’t go in for it, just releases her hand and steps back.
“No promises, Commander.”