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The Perk - Tuesday afternoon

Jack was bored with video games. And TV. And listening to music. And thinking. And worrying. She went for a walk that wound up taking her to the Perk for some coffee. She'd no sooner ordered and taken her coffee to a table then her comm beeped.

She slapped it so fast she hit the side of her own face and didn't even care.

"Jack?"
She frowned, "Kanan? What's up?"
There was a long pause and then a snort, "Do I sound like Kaidan to you? I shouldn't, because that boy sounds Canadian as hell whereas I sound like the good Cuban American boy that I am. Your hearing okay, Jack?"
Her eyes rolled so hard the whites showed, "Vega. You need somethin'?"
"Hell yeah I need somethin'," he answered, "Why's Kaidan here lighting everyone's asses on fire? He ain't talkin' to the rest of us. My feelings are hurt. You know how I feel about that. What's he doin'? Why ain't he lettin' us in on it so's we can help him? Normandy's on the Citadel. Why's he stiffin' us?"
"Yeah and you know how I feel about feelings, especially yours. He's not talking to you because he's not on the Citadel right now, dumbass," Jack told him, "He's doing some Spectre thing in the ass-end of space and he's not within comm reach." She hated that. She still didn't know if what they'd done had worked. Wouldn't, until Kaidan made contact.
"Yeah but.. Jack, it's us. Why'd he go off without us?" Vega sounded almost plaintive.
"Because you're the Commander of the Normandy and he's a goddamn Spectre," Jack said flatly, "It's not his personal transport, Jimmy."
"Yeah but.."
"You're gonna have to get off the teat sometime, Jimmy," Jack told him, "It's your ship. You're her Commander. Time to suck it up, buttercup, Kaidan's not going to swoop in like Tarzan and rescue you from the command you fuckin' wanted."
"Yeah but.." This time his voice was so much smaller, "I mean, no, I never expected him to do that, but.. I just thought it might be like before. Normandy doing specialist missions with a Spectre, you know? I never thought he'd ignore us like this."
Jack rubbed a hand over her scalp. "You big fuckin' baby," she said, not unkindly, "He's not ignoring you. Or the Normandy. The shit he's off doin' could blow up big and if it does he don't want you or the Normandy to get hit with it. It's Kaidan, asshole. Of course he's not just fuckin' ignoring you."
"You know what he's doin'?" Vega asked after a minute, "How bad, Jack?"
"Yeah, I know what he's tryin' to do. And bad, Vega. This goes south, it's gonna cost him huge." Both personally and command-wise. If this blew up, they'd make an example of him. And she totally wasn't worried, damnit.
"So how can we help him?" Vega demanded.
"Be there when he gets back," Jack said with a shrug, "At this point, that's all you can do. This is a winner takes all kind of thing, Jimmy, so.. win or lose.. be there for him when he gets back. No matter what."
"You know it," Vega answered immediately and firmly, "He's ours, man. He's one of us and he always will be. No matter what."
"Yeah, he knows. You got anything else to say or are you gonna cry or some shit? Cuz if you are, I'm hanging up," she threatened.

After a little while of shooting the shit, Jack turned her comm off. Not the call she'd wanted but it'd been good to hear from that asshole, too. She took a drink of coffee.

And promptly spit it across the table. "What the fuck?!" she blurted, "I ordered a black coffee! What the hell is this?! There's spices in it!"

The barista shrugged apologetically, "It's pumpkin spice latte season. That just sort of happens."

"Goddamnit.. fuck my luck," Jack muttered, and then sighed, "Throw me a rag. I'll clean this up. You don't gotta, this is my mess." The barista threw her one of the cleaning rags and Jack took care of the splatter. Tossed it back and hunkered down in her seat, sulking.

And drinking the damn coffee anyway.

[Open Perk is Open]

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Tuesday. Nothin' to do on a Tuesday but be out and about, and if Fjord was going to be out and about, he might as well get himself a coffee.

That was the one thing Amaya had really done for him. Given him a healthy appreciation of coffee.

Or an addiction. One coffee, black, and he'd take it to go. Pay up, head for the door, take a sip, and--

Yeah, Jack's wasn't going to be the only spit-take in the Perk today.

"The fuck!?"

Jack glanced at him slyly. "Something wrong with your coffee, Fjord? Here," she offered him her mug, "you can have some of mine."

"There's some kinda... nutmeg? Is that fuckin' nutmeg?" Fjord gave his coffee cup an incredulous look, and then reached to take hers, hoping to get the unexpected taste from his mouth.

...

That mouthful was followed pretty immediately by a deadpan, 'Really?' look in Jack's direction.

Jack cracked up at the face he pulled and took her coffee back. "Yeah, that was about my reaction. I guess it's a thing, the flavor. Nutmeg and cinnamon. In the fucking coffee. Whatever, so long as it still has caffeine." She took a drink. "How you been, Fjord? Fucked up coffee aside."

"Can't complain," Fjord replied, reaching for some napkins to clean the mess from his spit-take with. "Who the fuck would listen?"

Besides probably Jack, there. Since she'd asked.

"And you?"

He was going to breeze right on by that fact anyway.

"I would, asshole, that's why I asked," Jack said. She shrugged, "The summer fucked up a lot of people." She hated it.

"I'm alright. As long as the fucking island takes a fucking seat long enough to catch my goddamn breath, anyway."

"If it ain't the island, it'll be some other bullshit," Fjord replied with a shrug. Because, really, that eldritch entity that kept trying to drown him in his dreams was certainly making a spirited go at it. He shrugged one shoulder and took a mouthful of coffee. "But yeah. The summer fucked up a lot of people. I ain't gonna bitch about gettin' a break from it."

"Too right," Jack bobbed her head in a nod. "So, hey, we finally got a fuckin' boat in the harbor. I talked to her owner the other day. Guy name of Duke Crocker." She paused, "Name, not a title. Seems okay."

"Wasn't gonna ask," Fjord noted, about the 'Duke' thing. Nobility wasn't generally in the habit of being involved with any ship Fjord was likely to take an interest in, anyway. "Good, though. I don't think I've ever seen a damn ship around here, unless the toy ones people keep givin' me count."

And he was a fan of the toy ones, don't get him wrong. The model ship that Fenris had gotten for him and the ship in a bottle from Beauregard were two of his most treasured items.

In fairness, Fjord didn't have much else to his name.

"I might have to make my way down there and see what he's all about."

Jack nodded, "Thought you might like that. I told him you'd be interested. He said if you're a capable hand on a ship, he's always interested." She shrugged, "I know you been bored bein' landlocked."

And she would never admit, never at all, that it had been such a shitty summer that it'd felt kind of good to do something small like that for a friend. Even if it was no more than dropping a sort of bug in the new guy's ear.

Not literally.

This time.

"Bored's one word for it," Fjord agreed wryly. "Goin' out of my fuckin' mind just looking out at the water. Took a trip up to the lighthouse again the other week, actually. That worked out okay."

What with the weird nesting doll thing he'd found up there.

"So, this Duke fella, what kinda guy you figure he is? One of them folks like we'd find across the Causeway, completely outta his element here, or you think he can hold his own when shit goes down?"

"Haven't been up there this summer," Jack admitted, "It's been nuts."

She spun her cup for a minute and considered, "On the surface? He seems like one of the people from across the causeway. It didn't sound like he believed me much when I brought up some of the island's shit." She snorted, "So I mean.. give him two days, he'll figure it out real fuckin' quick. He seemed decent, though. Kinda got his back up when I mentioned not everyone looks like him but they're all people, this 'of course they fucking are' look, so, I mean, point in his favor. Easy to talk to, that's for sure. Likes his booze. Maybe a candidate for the Drunk and Bored club?"

The question Fjord asked, she thought about. "Judging from the muscles and some of the shit he said, I'd say if he had to throw down he'd throw down good as he gets. But he ain't a dick up front like he's lookin' for it neither. Whether or not he can throw down when the shit here gets wacky? That, I don't know." She tapped her teeth with a nail, "Haven't known him more than a minute, but right now I'd give even odds he'd either throw down on land or grab everyone he could throw onto his boat and haul ass out to sea until it was over. Could cut and run on his own, I guess, but.. I dunno, Fjord. He reminds me of Kanan in a way."

Dark hair back in a ponytail, loner on their own ship, smuggler type.. shitty beard.. no clue why that association was there.

A mystery for the ages!

"Maybe a candidate for the Drunk and Bored club," Fjord mused. "I'll have to meet the guy. We ain't had a meeting in for-fucking-ever, now the island ain't tryin' to kill us maybe I should hunt Miguel down and remedy that."

He was still pretty big on bored, and hadn't had 'drunk' going for him in some time.

"I'm down for it," Jack said, "It'd be nice to see everyone when they're not like, fucked up shit that ain't really them, you know?" She figured he knew. "I'm so pissed off we didn't get an actual summer. I wanted to do all sorts of beach shit and now it's getting colder. Whatever. It's nice weather for a bonfire on the beach, right?"

"Always good weather for a bonfire on the beach," Fjord agreed, "and anyway, it ain't like it ain't still disgustingly fuckin' hot out there most days. There's still a bit of summer left if you don't squint too hard. Just gotta make use of it while it's there."

"Yeah but now we're into storm season so even when it's hot, there's all these fucking thunderstorms and hurricanes and shit," Jack complained. "Can't have a bonfire outside during a goddamn cyclone's goin' on."

Not that she wouldn't try.

"That sounds like quitter talk," Fjord replied with a little grin. "What's a little rain, anyway?"

For the record, he was a sailor, he knew exactly what 'a little rain' was.

He was also just a little shit.

"Wet socks are the worst," Jack complained, because she was a brat, "I've been through an awful lot of shit and I'd almost rather be shot than have to walk anywhere with my socks all wet and squishy inside my fuckin' boots."

So there. She grinned back at him, "Though if you make a big enough fire, not even that kind of rain will put it out." Jack, no.

"Ain't that the truth," Fjord replied, smirking a little. "Though I'm used to a little water in the boots."

Didn't enjoy it, but was used to it.

"Could keep an eye on the weather," he mused. "Catch an evening where there ain't a storm incoming, hold a Drunk and Bored meeting then."

"Sounds like a plan. I'd be down. Fuck knows I'm bored and not nearly drunk enough," Jack noted, "I can even clue in the new guy if you want."

"More the merrier," Fjord agreed, grinning crookedly. "Anyone's welcome so long as they ain't a total shit, I trust your judgment."

That wisdom stat, folks.

When it came to judging character, her instincts were better than most. "He wasn't a total shit. Like I said, he seemed decent. Moose tagged him in for teaching." That grin was a little sharp, "He was convinced he could get out of it."

"... Man clearly ain't never met the moose."

But man, did Fjord want to be a fly on the wall when he did.

It seemed to be a running theme this week.

"He had not, at that time, met the moose," Jack snickered, "He'll learn." They all did. "You're not teaching this term either? I took a term off to let the island cool its shit."

"Nah," Fjord replied with a shrug. He'd had this conversation a few times this semester already and he was reasonably certain he'd be having it again a few more. "I ain't really teachin' material. I'd kill for any of the students here, sure, but that don't mean I got anything they wanna learn."

"Pretty sure most of the shit bein' taught isn't anything they want to learn," Jack offered, "You could maybe teach 'em a thing or two about gettin' along with people who suck."

Fjord gave a soft snort in reply to that.

"If I was any good at that, Jack, I'd be living a very different life right now."

"And yet you get along with almost everyone here," Jack pointed out, "Even your roommate, who pretty much doesn't get along with anyone from what the squirrels have reported."

"Eh, Fenris and I are two dumbasses cut from similar cloth, is all," Fjord replied with a shrug. "I'm just better at smilin' pretty, is all."

... And he wasn't even really sure about that, these days, but didn't dare mention that. Hated drawing attention to his tusks as it was.

She was glad to see he was still growing them out, though! "Now, now, ladies, simmer down, you're both pretty," Jack drawled. And then grinned, "I'm biased in favor of the tattoos. Of course, we could always take you out to get some of your own."

Good luck, Jack. If Jester was never going to be able to convince him to get the fearsome symbol of Captain Tusktooth emblazoned on his bicep, nobody could.

"Nah, I'm fine," Fjord replied, smirking a little. "I'll leave the pretty art to the people who appreciate it."

"The point of pretty art is for other people to appreciate it," Jack pointed out.

And then realized who she just said that to.

".. Right. Fine, wrong audience for that comment. Erase it."

Fjord just gave a little short and a roll of his eyes at that one.

"Yeah, I ain't exactly in the market for bein' appreciated," he replied. For starters, he wouldn't know what the hell to even do with that sort of attention. "Not quite like that."

Had no use for it.

Had no idea why anybody even would. Not with him, anyway.

"Yeah, you get the icky twitches," Jack nodded, "Which is valid, considering." Seivarden. Considering Seivarden. "You're not eye poison, Fjord, but I can see why you might not like being looked at like you were a nice cut of steak either."

Wasn't he eye poison? Wasn't he, though? He was used to being stared at, but rarely was that because anybody thought he was pretty.

"It ain't my favorite," he replied, shrugging. "Not that I'm hopin' people never look my way, but drawin' their attention to me ain't exactly at the top of my list of priorities, either."

He wasn't. Sorry, Fjord. Your world is wrong, your aesthetics are pretty.

"'S'fair," Jack nodded, "Plus, probably a smart one. It's a small fuckin' island. Lots of potential for drama, which don't seem like much your kind of thing."

"I get plenty enough drama just tendin' bar on Fridays," Fjord noted. And then paused to consider. "Well, less these days."

These days, Fridays involved significantly less attempting to carry on a civil conversation and having the topic changed in favor of something banal and entirely out of Fjord's purview. Like cats.

"Ain't that a fuckin' shame," Jack drawled with enough sarcasm to almost catch fire. "I've been slackin' on my booze duties lately. I'll try to remember to stop by this week."

She hadn't really been drinking since after Dekuuna. She'd had plenty of alcohol then. It hadn't helped a damn thing. A few drinks here and there since coming back but nothing like her usual self.

Maybe that was why she was in such a weird zen mood lately.

"Hey, you don't gotta drink to be good company in the bar," Fjord noted. "Swing on by, don't be a stranger, we also deal in sodas and half-decent company from time to time."

As bartender, it was sort of his job.

Jack snorted, "Catch me drinking a fucking soda when there's an alcoholic option. Shit Fjord, you've met me."

Fjord just chuckled right back.

"Hey, just makin' sure you know there's the option, if my smilin' face and the promise of some half-decent whiskey ain't doin' it for you these days."

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The Perk - Tuesday afternoon

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