Jack stared out the window of the train. It was already freaky to be on a planet again after most of a lifetime spent in space. But this wasn't just any planet. This was Earth. It was her birthplace in a way, and she could tell. The sky was exactly the right blue, and the trees and plants that whipped by the window were a shade of green that seemed to speak directly to her DNA.
The countryside beyond consisted of rolling hills criss-crossed with little hedgerows. Stone houses peeked out now and again as the train sped along.
She leaned back from the window. The train car was mostly empty. There were a few other riders near the door, but today it didn't look like many people were making the trip from London to Glasgow. The interior of the train was filled with the gentle and rhythmic clacking of the rails.
The sound would ordinarily make Jack drowsy, but not now. Now she was far too nervous to sleep. In less than three hours, she'd be face-to-face with her. And how she would react to Jack was something that the slender biotic dreaded.
She glanced next to her. Seated there was a big man with a battered face and short red hair. Marcus was napping, of course. His green eyes were closed and there was a little bit of drool coming from one corner of his mouth. Jack shook her head. He could be infuriatingly calm sometimes. How could he sleep? He was probably going to be getting a huge load of grief from his mother, not to mention he'd be introducing Jack to her.
"You worry too much, Jack," said Kelly. The perky little redhead was seated across from Marcus. Jack thought back to the first time she'd met Kelly, and how she'd wanted to strangle the counselor. Or just squish her into a little ball of goo with a biotic field. But not only had she not killed Kelly, they were now sometimes-lovers.
Next to Kelly sat a statuesque blue-skinned alien. It was strange to see Samara out of her customary red armor, but the ex-justicar had wanted to 'go incognito', as she'd put it, and she now wore an outfit of blue jeans and a white blouse. Jack thought that staying under the radar wasn't going to work; Samara was the type to stand out in a crowd no matter what she wore. The asari's pale blue eyes stared with interest at the countryside rolling by.
"I'm not worried," said Jack in reply to Kelly. "Not really." That was a lie. Jack was heading into a situation that she couldn't just punch or squish or shoot her way out of and she had no idea how to handle it.
Kelly gave her a little smile. It was not a mocking smile, but Jack still felt herself bristling.
"You will be fine, dear," said Samara absently.
"You keep saying that, Blue." Jack shrugged helplessly. "And I know that Assface keeps saying his mom will like me. But she's...normal. Like you guys."
Samara turned away from the window and arched one perfect eyebrow. "Like me? I don't believe that Brenda has met many asari."
"Yeah, but you're a normal asari."
Samara gave a rare laugh. "Oh, yes. Ex-Justicars are very common around here, I'm sure"
"No, I mean you at least look normal. I'm..." Jack gestured down at her tattoed body. She was wearing leather pants and a jacket, but even then the welter of ink on her arms and head was obvious. "I'm human, but I'm not a normal human."
A big callused hand settled on her head and stroked her shaved scalp. The touch calmed her, as it had so many times in the past. "Now, lassie, I know me mum. She'll be overjoyed to meet ye."
Jack's worry subsided but didn't entirely go away.
Glasgow Central Station was a vast, echoing space spanned with wrought-iron girders that were more ornate than they needed to be. Marcus looked around with evident delight. "I didnae think I'd see this place again." The closer they'd gotten to Glasgow, the more his usual slight accent had slipped into a thicker brogue.
They grabbed their bags and trouped outside. It seemed strange to Jack to not be armed. During the Collector mission, it seemed like every time they'd gone dirt-side she'd had a shotgun riding on her hip. But now she was just down to her fists. Well, that and her biotics. Between her ability and Samara's even more formidable talent Jack figured that they were safe enough if anyone tried anything.
She told herself to stop being ridiculous. Nobody was going to 'try' anything. This wasn't a wilderness outpost like Omega or even Nos Astra. This was a civilized city on a civilized planet.
The street outside was all foot traffic, with some black-painted aircars idling near the curb. The canopy of the nearest one rose, and Jack was surprised to see that the taxi had a human driver instead of being automated.
The driver was a cheerful-looking human with a lined face and a ruddy nose. "Where to, lad?" He took in the rest of the motley crew behind Marcus and raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't react.
Marcus gave him an address in someplace called Drumchapel. The flight out was pretty uneventful, although the driver seemed to think that he was some kind of tour guide. He pointed out the river Clyde, something called the 'Squinty Bridge', and a big shell-like structure that was some kind of concert hall. Jack let it flow in one ear and out the other as she began to freak out again.
This was not some melting-pot world out in the Terminus or a frontier colony in human space. Even in those kinds of places Jack stood out. But now she was right in the heart of human civilization, surrounded by normal people. She felt like some kind of barbarian. Marcus' mother was going to flip her shit when she finally laid eyes on her...
Again there was a big warm hand on her head, gently rubbing. Jack growled in both relief and irritation. Assface was getting way too good at reading her moods.
The taxi dropped them off on a street that was lined with brick-walled and ancient-looking duplexes. Jack saw several scrawny trees dotted here and there along the street.
She squinted up into the overcast sky. It was appropriate to her mood at the moment. As they walked up to the door of the nearest duplex, she thought about calling it all off for a while. Maybe they could go to a bar - no, they called them pubs here - and she could get a bunch of liquid courage in her before continuing. She opened her mouth just as Marcus raised his hand to knock.
Before he could, the door swung open and a small gray-haired blur jumped out at him. Jack and the others started back in surprise as a fireplug of a woman wrapped her arms around the engineer's neck. The woman's legs dangled off of the ground.
Neither she nor Marcus said anything for a long moment while they hugged. Finally, he said "Good tae see ya, mum."
"You made it back," replied the woman. She let go of his neck and dropped to the ground, then sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "You're lookin' well."
Marcus smiled and patted her shoulder. "Everyone, this is my mother, Brenda Donnelly."
Jack braced herself as the woman's eyes swung over and regarded her. There wasn't the slightest flicker or widening in Brenda's eyes as she smiled. "You must be Jack."
"Yeah, hi," said the biotic, in a quieter voice than she normally used. Jack extended her hand for a shake, only to find her hand grabbed and herself pulled forward. The biotic almost did a hip throw on the old woman before realizing it was just a prelude for a hug of her own.
"It's so good tae meet ye at last, dear." Brenda let go of Jack and regarded the other two. "And you must be Kelly and Samara." She wound up giving them hugs too.
Kelly looked around the kitchen in a slight haze of deja vu. She'd 'seen' this place once before, when she and Marcus had been held prisoner by the Collectors. The aliens had been 'preparing' them for eventual amalgamation into a Reaper, a process which involved a sharing of memories. Marcus had created a little 'safe space' for her and the other kidnapped Normandy crew, a space that consisted of this kitchen plus an avatar of Brenda.
The yeoman's sense of history repeating got stronger as Brenda set a teapot in the center of the table. As in Marcus' memory, the surface of the table was spotless but stained.
"Kettle should be boiling shortly," said Brenda brightly. She bustled over next to Jack. The lack of a Brenda-flip-out at Jack's appearance seemed to have calmed the biotic. "I can't tell you how happy I am tae see you all. I couldn't believe it when me Marcus asked if you could all stay here."
"You're sure it's no trouble?" asked Samara. "We would be perfectly happy to stay at an inn."
Brenda made a scoffing noise. "I've got a whole spare bedroom, plus Marcus' old room. It's nae trouble at all."
Samara smiled. "We thank you for the hospitality."
Brenda set a platter of scones on the table as well. "Now, I was thinking later of showing you all around, but I must warn ye."
"Warn us?" Jack looked a little skittish at that. Kelly couldn't blame her; the biotic had spent much of her life with a sizable set of bounties on her head.
The older woman looked a little sheepish. "My wee lad doesn't like to boast, but word has even reached here of what happened with Shepard. You're all rather famous."
"Ah." Jack now looked ready to bolt. "Um, all of us?"
Brenda patted her hand. "Aye, dear. Now don't you fret, I've already talked to Constable Lennox and there will be nae foolishness wi' gettin' bothered fer autographs and such. You'll be free tae go about as ye please."
Samara tilted her head. "I thank you. I speak for all of us when I say we want this to be a quiet and pleasant visit."
"Of course," replied Brenda. "Now, who takes milk?"
Jack was right behind Marcus as the group stepped into the pub. It was some place called 'The Singlet', and the interior was lined with dark wood paneling. There was an endless moment of quiet as everyone turned to regard them. It was clear that this was a local place, and they were most certainly not local.
Then Brenda stepped around Jack and walked in. "What're ye all starin' at? My wee boy's back, is all."
That seemed to break the spell. It wasn't quite a stampede, but there was a gentle wave of people coming over to shake all of their hands. Marcus got a few slaps on the back; one of the slappers looked like he was also going to give Jack a slap on the back but then reconsidered when she fixed him with a raised eyebrow. The would-be-slapper settled for a hesitant smile and a wave.
It seemed like before Jack could blink she was seated at a table with a pint in front of her. She shrugged and took a sip. It wasn't bad. Usually she preferred stronger stuff than beer, but this would do for now.
Kelly grinned at her from across the table and hoisted her own pint. "I don't like to say I told you so, but...I did tell you so. Nothing to worry about."
"Fine, Oh Perky One," said Jack. "Just wait. This is all going too well. Something's going to go bad on us."
Samara had been corralled by a bunch of the younger men who were chatting with her and trying very hard to not look like they were just there to get an eyeful of the statuesque asari. Jack motioned with her chin. "Looks like your honey's getting quite the following."
Kelly looked over her shoulder at the gaggle and shrugged. "Eh, she can handle it."
Jack suddenly remembered something else that wanted to ask about. "Hey, how is Blue's pregnancy coming along?"
The yeomen smiled. "All is well so far. The asari gestation period is about fifteen months. It'll be at least another three months before she starts to show. And we had genetic tests done, there's no Ardat-Yakshi genes cropping up."
Jack took another swig from her pint. "And what are you guys gonna do when the kid is born? Are you going to stay on with Shepard? I mean, the Normandy is a good ship but it ain't a nursery."
Kelly raised one hand, palm up. "We don't know yet. Right now we're going to play it by ear."
A burst of laughter made them both look over. Marcus was chatting animatedly with a pair of smaller men who were about his age; they were apparently old chums of his.
"And how about you two?" asked Kelly. "Are you gonna have kids?"
Jack was taking another swig, and the question made her nearly spit beer all over Kelly. "Are you fuc...fooling with me?"
The yeoman grinned wider. "Why not? You're going to be in one place for a good long time. There are worse places to grow up than in Grissom."
Jack spluttered. "You can't be serious." She peered closer at Kelly. "You are serious. What makes you think I'd be anything like a good mother?"
Kelly gave Jack an arched eybrow. "What makes you think you wouldn't be?"
Jack made a pushing motion with her hand. "We are not having this conversation. You know my past, dam...darn it. The last thing I need to do is put my crazy into some poor kid."
Kelly leaned closer. "What's with the revised language?"
Jack felt a little burn of embarrassment in her stomach. "I'm getting used to censoring myself. That Sanders chick asked me to tone down my, whaddyacall, vocabulary around my students. So I'm just trying to get in the habit. Not to mention that I don't want to make Brenda think I'm some kind of barbarian."
"See? You're not as crazy as you think. And you'll have plenty of opportunity to interact with young people, so you'll figure out pretty quick if you want to raise a child of your own."
"Enough with the mother thing, all right? Ain't happening."
Kelly laughed. "I'm not saying to go and get knocked up tomorrow, babe. Just...think about it. Give it time."
In spite of Jack's trepidation, the rest of their night out was a resounding success. About the only thing that would have made it better in Jack's eyes was a nice sweaty bit of fucking at the end of it. But they were all exhausted from their trip, plus the walls in Brenda's house were probably paper-thin.
She woke in the middle of the night with Marcus spooned against her back. They were in his old room, which Brenda had kept more-or-less as when he'd left Earth. His bed was small, but Jack hardly noticed that. She was used to the tiny cubicle-cabins on the Normandy. Jack carefully extricated herself from under his beefy arm and stood, stretching a little as she looked around. There were model ships hanging from the ceiling as well as a few Alliance posters that promised the chance to go and see new worlds. The only modern part of the room was a collage that Brenda had set up with many news printouts about the exploits of the Normandy during the Collector mission.
Brenda had made sure to highlight wherever Marcus was mentioned by name. Jack noted with a little surprise that her own 'obfuscated' name, Jacqueline Naught, had also been mentioned once and also duly highlighted.
Jack looked back at Marcus' sleeping bulk and smiled. Before this trip was over she was going to pin him down and take him right on his childhood bed. She was pretty sure he'd be game for that.
Then she thought she heard the faintest creak from outside of the room, from the direction of the kitchen. Jack went on alert and silently cracked open the door. She listened for so long that she was beginning to think that she'd imagined it, but then there was another creak from the direction of the kitchen.
It might be nothing, or it might be that somebody was robbing the place. Jack had on a long tee shirt that hung down low enough to cover up the important bits, so she figured that she was as dressed as she needed to be. The door creaked ever so slightly as Jack opened it wider and slipped out. If somebody was breaking into the house, then they were about to get the double surprise of a scantily-clad woman wielding a biotic bitch-slap that could take down a krogan.
She silently stalked down the hall towards the kitchen. There was a light on in the kitchen proper, so it probably wasn't burglars. But she did want to make sure, and so Jack peeked one eye around the corner.
Brenda sat at the kitchen table with her back to Jack. On the table was a bottle filled with brown liquor, and Brenda had a glass with a little bit of it in front of her. She was holding a picture which showed a family portrait of two adults and a kid between them. The two adults were clearly Brenda and her husband, and the kid had a very familiar set of green eyes and unruly red hair. The guy in the picture had the same coloration as Marcus and also sported an oft-broken nose that looked similar to the engineer's. Brenda rubbed a thumb gently over the man's face and gave the slightest sniffle.
Jack ducked back around the corner. Okay, this was not something she needed to be peeping on. She turned to head back and was frozen by Brenda's soft voice.
"You can come in, dear."
Shit, the woman must have radar ears. Jack squared her shoulders and walked around the corner into the kitchen. "Sorry," she murmured. "I just heard a noise and wanted to make sure everything was okay. I'm kinda paranoid sometimes..."
Brenda shushed her with one waving hand, and gestured to a chair next to her. "Grab a glass and join me. The glasses are in the cabinet over there."
Jack figured that it would be rude to let booze go un-drunk, so she followed Brenda's orders. Once seated, the woman poured Jack a shot of scotch. The biotic took it and clinked glasses with Brenda. She figured this was probably sipping whisky rather than rotgut and so she took a careful swig. Yep, it was good stuff.
Brenda smiled at her. "I have to say, your picture doesn't do you justice."
At first Jack thought the woman was making fun of her. But there wasn't the slightest hint of mocking in Brenda's eyes. As Jack looked at her, Brenda's words finally percolated into her brain.
"Wait, what do you mean my picture?" She'd been adamant with Marcus that he send his mother no images of her. After much deliberation, Jack figured that it was better to just show up in person rather than to deal with Brenda's inevitable freak-out over a long distance.
Brenda touched a corner of the picture frame in her hands and handed it to Jack. She took it and stared down with a mixture of anger and surprise. Assface must have taken it while she slept; the picture frame now showed Jack curled up in a foetal position on their bed in the Normandy. In spite of the long shirt she wore, one could clearly see the multitude of tattoos that covered her. But her sleeping face was calm and peaceful.
"I didn't think he'd sent you anything," Jack said aloud.
"Dinnae blame him. I pestered him for a long time and he finally sent me that. And when I saw your face..." Brenda trailed off.
Jack looked up in fear, but Brenda's face was smiling.
"Well, ye see it there. Ye looked like a wee angel," said Brenda. "I was so happy I was fit tae burst."
Jack gave the older woman a raised eyebrow while she gave a little laugh. "Really? I mean, I'm not...normal."
Brenda took the frame back from Jack. "None of us are normal, dear." She touched the frame again and turned it so that Jack could see the image of the family trio once more. "This is Connor, Marcus' da. Worked as a bouncer for one of the dance clubs in Glasgow. Probably was fightin' afore he could walk."
Jack gave another, more relieved laugh. "It runs in the family, I guess. How did you two meet?"
"I was a safety engineer at one of the local aerospace companies. One night I decided to do a bit of clubbing, got hit on by an unruly drunk who wouldn't take 'nae fookin' way' for an answer, an' he got a bit too aggressive. So old Conner had to step in tae teach him how to properly talk to ladies." She shrugged. "The drunk had three friends, but my Connor still got 'em sorted. Got his nose busted once again fer his troubles. I decided to take him out tae dinner as a 'thank you' and, well, he turned out to be a real charmer in spite of bein' such a big lunk."
Jack smiled. "He sounds just like As...Marcus."
Brenda took a sip of her scotch and winked. "I know what pet name ye call 'im, dear. Don't mind at all. It'll keep him humble."
Jack leaned back. The unruly knot of tension in her stomach that she'd been carrying for many, many parsecs finally unraveled and vanished. "Thanks. Both for the drink and for not freaking out about me."
"Now why would I do that? I've seen how he looks at ye. And I've seen how ye look at him. I'm verra happy for the both of ye."
Jack looked around the neat but elderly kitchen. "Is this where Assface grew up?"
Brenda nodded, and her face became somber. "Aye." She sighed. "Too bad I won't be able tae keep the hoose."
"Wait, what? Do you need money?" Jack's long-dormant criminal instincts kicked back in. Let's see, if she found a medium-sized bank with standard security then she could probably have five hundred thousand in Brenda's hands by the morning...
The old woman shook her head. "Nae, the hoose is paid off. I've just been gettin' lots of pressure tae...never mind, ye don't want to hear it."
Jack reached forward and gently gripped Brenda's hand. "No, tell me." Her face was somber, but inside she was cackling with joy. This vacation was now looking to become a whole lot more fun.