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The elevator doors opened on the crew deck. Jack held her breath and listened, hoping to hear a lot of nothing coming from the galley.
Her wish was granted – thank fuck.
She slunk out of the elevator, rounding the corner into the mess hall. The coast was clear, meaning she could eat in peace – no one to stare or mutter something weird just loud enough to catch as she walked by. Her shoulders relaxed and she made a beeline for the refrigerator. Gardner had finally got the good shit in and her stomach was growling.
A tiny clink on one of the tables froze Jack in her tracks.
Jack spun towards the sound and held her breath in attempt to keep herself from flaring in defense. She’d scared the literal piss out of Donnelly the last time, but it was his own fucking fault for creeping down the stairs – his little wrangler, Daniels, had taken to yelling down the stairwell before any of the engineering nerds came down for maintenance after that.
Kasumi had tucked herself into a corner of the mess hall, hood down around her shoulders, and thumbed through a paperback. A steaming cup of tea sat next to her elbow. “Evening, Jack.”
The breath Jack held in slowly streamed out through her nose, “Hey.” She turned back to the galley and yanked open the refrigerator door. Rummaging through the shelves, she discovered that Gardner had made spaghetti for dinner. Score! “Thought you preferred the observation deck. What are you doing out here?”
It had always made little sense to Jack why Kasumi signed on to their little murder squad at all. Vakarian, she got. Samara and all her ‘for justice!’ shit, she got. Grunt practically came out of the packaging looking for a fight. Kasumi though…
What the fuck did Shepard need stolen anyway? Romance novels?
Kasumi flipped to the next page in her book, “I wanted some tea and it was finally quiet enough to come out.”
“Yeah, everyone is so fucking loud.” Jack pulled a plate out of one of the cabinets and found a serving spoon in a drawer. She piled the leftover spaghetti high on her plate and pillaged the fridge shelves again, looking for the meatballs that she knew Gardner had damn well better have made.
The slurp that Kasumi made with her tea sent a shudder through Jack’s body. Point fucking made. “They’re not so bad.”
Jack huffed. Where the hell were those meatballs? She tugged on the freezer door, swearing that she was gonna yank Gardner out of bed if she didn’t find them s—oh, there they were. Fuck, she was going to have to heat them separately.
She scooped some of the meatballs out of the container into a little bowl. Her eyes kept flicking to Kasumi, who seemed content enough with her tea and her book. “Did, uh, you want any?”
Kasumi looked up, “Hmm? Oh, no thanks, I already ate.”
Jack nodded and stuck the bowl into the microwave. She leaned back on the counter, waiting for the ding to take the meatballs out, but the soft sound of another page turn reached her first. Jack’s curiosity overcame her need for detachment. “What are you reading?”
“Murder on the Orient Express.”
“Never heard of it.”
“No? Agatha Christie?” Kasumi’s brow furrowed and Jack shrugged. “It’s a classic. I mean, I prefer Miss Marple, but there’s just something about Hercule Poirot.”
Jack snorted and the microwave dinged. She removed the bowl with careful fingers and replaced it with the plate of spaghetti. “Poirot? What kind of name is that?”
“A French one. He’s Belgian though…” Kasumi set the book on the table and held her tea cup with both hands, “Would you like to borrow it? I’ve already read it.”
No one had ever offered to let Jack borrow anything before. Did Shepard put Kasumi up to this? Fucking meddler. You set off a bomb in a nightmare secret lab together one time…
Kasumi continued, “You’ll like it.”
Jack waived a dismissive hand in Kasumi’s direction. Her spaghetti had finally finished warming. She grabbed it and the bowl of meatballs, heading to the table. “I’ve got other shit to—”
The room was empty. The paperback sat on the table, but Kasumi and her tea had vanished.
“Ugh, I hate it when she does that,” Jack grumbled to no one.
She threw herself down into a chair and twirled the spaghetti around her fork, glancing sidelong at the book.
This was stupid.
Jack shoveled a meatball into her mouth, trying to ignore the book staring back at her from the table.
So fucking stupid.
A low, frustrated groan escaped between mouthfuls of meat and noodles and she slid the paperback in front of her, careful not to get any sauce on its pages, and began to read.
“Twelve stab wounds is fucking overkill, Kasumi.”
Kasumi chuckled and strapped herself into the shuttle seat, “You read it!”
“Some of it.”
Jacob climbed in after Jack, looking between them, “Read some of what?”
“Some stupid book that Kasumi insisted I read.”
Kasumi cheerfully supplied, “It’s Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie.”
Jacob took his spot next to her. “Oh, I’ve seen an old vid for that. Never read the book though. Is it any good?”
“Is what any good?” Garrus ducked into the shuttle, Shepard not too far behind.
Jack crossed her arms and stared a hole into the ceiling. “This fucking better not become a thing.”
It became a thing.
Fuck.
Jacob convinced Joker and Kelly to pick the book up. Dr. Chakwas had already read the damn thing, but was all too happy to join in. Garrus found an audio version to listen to while he diddled his cannon in the battery.
“It’s calibrating, not diddling.”
Jack snorted, “Call it what you want, Vakarian. Who am I to judge how you get your little rocks off?”
Kasumi, the de-facto leader of their little murder squad book club, laughed and slid a cup of tea in Jack’s direction. “Okay, before we get to the end, theories on whodunnit?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Vakarian! You wanna use your ‘little grey cells’ up there? That fucker almost shot me!” Jack ducked down behind cover, dodging a pair of Blue Sun mercs taking aim at her.
Garrus answered with the sharp whistle of his sniper rifle. One less merc to take aim now.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll have it as dark in here as Cassetti’s blackened heart,” Kasumi whispered through the comm channel, busy in the vents above them.
Garrus’s gravel was in the channel next, “You gonna be able to deal with the dark, Jack? Never know when twelve angry people are gonna come at you with knives.”
“They didn’t kill him in the dark, asshole.”
“Hey!” Shepard’s voice boomed in their ears, “You chucklefucks wanna focus up before these mercs spray your little grey cells all over the walls!?”
“Well, now you’ve done it. Shepard called us chucklefucks.”
Jack flared blue and yanked the feet out from under the nearest Blue Sun, sending them flying headfirst into the floor with a sickening crack, “Um, you are a chucklefuck, Vakarian.”
Shepard groaned and tossed a grenade over their cover and the remaining mercs scattered.
Kasumi laughed and killed the lights.
In the dark, no one could see Jack smile. They were all her chucklefucks.
The light on the portside lounge door was green.
Jack pressed it and stuck her head in, “I’m bringing your book back.”
Kasumi unfolded herself from the couch and beckoned Jack inside. Jack stepped carefully in and looked around. This place had a great view, but far too open for her tastes.
She held the paperback out to Kasumi, who just shook her head, “Keep it. I can always track down another copy.”
Jack sharply inhaled, trying to stuff down the warmth that bloomed in her chest.
Mercifully, Kasumi ignored Jack’s blush and walked to the bookshelf along the far wall. “What do you think we should read next?”
“Got any more Christie?”
Kasumi crouched down to the lower shelf and walked her fingers along the spines of the various worn paperbacks that lined it, “Where are you… Ah! Death on the Nile.”
Jack took the book from Kasumi and studied the cover. “We gonna tell the rest of them?” She gestured towards the door with her chin.
Kasumi shrugged helplessly, “I don’t think we’ll be able to keep them away.”
Fuck.
Jack huffed, “Nosy bastards.”
“You like them.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Kasumi said with a big smile. “Murder Squad Book Club is in session.”