A/N: Aaahhhh. Aaaand the debut of Jack's mouth. It certainly makes me happy, but hey, I'm a fan of the F word. As always, thank you so, so much for every review, fave, and follow. You make my day. :)

"Commander Shepard?"

The woman groaned slightly and opened one eye. She wasn't sure why, she was just talking to a disembodied voice—it wasn't like she needed to see anything. "EDI. Everything okay?" Her room was bathed in blue from the lights in the fish tank, and a soft yellow from the holographic display in front of her armor locker.

"Yes, but I decided it would be useful to inform you that dinner is underway in the mess hall."

"Hmph." Shepard pulled the blanket around her shoulders closer and closed her eyes briefly. "Ever feel like I'm putting together a zoo instead of a crew to save the galaxy?"

"I do not feel the way humans do, but I can determine the meaning of your hyperbole."

"What did you call me?" Shepard grinned. I'm going nuts. I'm trying to joke around with a machine.

"I could refer to you as Zoo Keeper Shepard."

"I prefer High Master-Commander of the Zoo Ship Normandy." Shepard finally pulled the blanket aside and ran a hand through her hair. At least an alarm clock that talked back made you get up.

"Acknowledged."

She pulled herself up from the couch and rolled her shoulders, eliciting a few light pops from her upper back. "ETA to Alchera?"

"Four and a half hours, High Master-Commander of the Zoo Ship Normandy."

Shepard smiled. "At least someone around here thinks I'm funny."

"My protocol establishes that I should agree with you to build a repertoire of trust between us."

"Oh." Shepard sighed.

"That was a joke."

"Asshole!" Shepard laughed as she made her way to the door.

"This is an anatomically incorrect statement, considering—"

"Ah!" Shepard held up a hand, crossing the short distance from her room to the elevator. "Okay. I get it. You win."

"Do you have further enquiries?"

"That's it for now," she said, summoning the elevator.

"Logging you out, Shepard."

/ / /

"What the fuck is this shit?!" Was the first thing Shepard heard as the elevator door opened. She hurried around the corner, afraid she would see Jack about to kill Gardner.

Gardner simply laughed at the irate biotic. "Shoulda' seen the messes I came up with before we had decent groceries."

Jack glanced at Shepard as her boots scuffed lightly along the metal floor, approaching the kitchen bar. "Shepard? I'm starting to think maybe I woulda' had a better shot at survival by staying on Purgatory."

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at this pretty face!" Shepard responded, grinning, as she motioned to her own.

"More like want to punch it. Seriously. I went down to engineering to stay away from people."

"Don't worry." Garrus pulled up beside them, his own tray in his hands. "She grows on you."

"The fuck happened to your face, spike-head?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"A rocket," he replied breezily. "Hell of a fight. You missed out."

"No shit?" Jack seemed genuinely impressed. "Sounds like it."

"Shepard always does the fun stuff." Garrus winked at Shepard, who grinned in return. "Stealing the Normandy…going to Ilos…"

Jack looked to the commander, her dark brown eyes widening slightly. "So you weren't completely shitting me when you didn't shoot down my pirate idea?"

"I offered you first mate," Shepard said, shrugging. "You turned it down. Garrus? You in?"

"You know it!" He laughed then grunted, gingerly bringing a hand up to his face. "Dammit, Shepard, I thought I told you not to make me laugh. Still hurts."

Shepard and Garrus started to the front mess table as Jack stood uncertainly at the kitchen bar. Shepard turned and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to plan our hijacking or stand there with a stick up your ass all night?" She asked, taking a seat across from Garrus, her back to the metal support wall.

"Fuck you," she replied before striding over and slamming her tray down on the table next to the turian. "You don't know the first thing about being a pirate." She flopped into a seat.

"Not true." Garrus said, taking a jab at the dextro-meat slab on his tray. "You wear an eye patch."

"Yeah." Shepard rubbed at her chin. "And have parrots. I don't think birds do well in space, but I do have a hamster."

Jack blinked. "You gotta' be shitting me."

"His name is Sir Knight McFurball."

The convict rolled her eyes. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Oh!" Garrus chimed in around a mouthful of food. "And we need peg legs!"

"And a hook." Shepard made a fist, then curled her index finger out. "And we say things like 'ahoy matey', right?"

"Yeah!" Garrus nodded. "And 'avast'!"

Jack held up her hands before they could continue. "What the fuck do you people smoke here? 'Cuz it's not nice not to share."

Garrus waved at his Spectre friend. "It wasn't long after Sovereign's attack on the Citadel, when Shepard had us watch this horrendous vid. You've heard the term B-Movie?"

Jack nodded, crossing her arms over her mostly-bare chest.

"I don't think the human alphabet has enough letters for that one. Maybe double-Z or Q or something."

"Sounds like it," Jack snorted. "Where the hell did you dig up shit like that?"

Shepard scratched at the back of her neck. "My pop rented it once, a long time ago. Believe it or not, it definitely wasn't the worst one he picked out." She looked back up, surprised at the look of contempt suddenly on Jack's features. Was it something I said? Before she had more time to wonder, the answer presented itself in the form of Miranda's voice at her side.

"What could possibly be worse than those terrible accents you two just butchered?" Miranda eased into the seat next to Shepard.

"Hey!" Shepard smiled. "We were just talking about hijacking the Normandy! Garrus is my first mate. Jack is apparently leading the boarding party and executions."

Miranda shook her head. "Of course."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean, Cheerleader?" Jack demanded.

"That I'm not surprised," she answered, picking up her fork.

"Well we're spacing you."

"Our mission is too important to go rogue, and Shepard knows that."

"Fuck you."

"Witty comeback."

Jack glowered and slumped lower in her seat. "Cerberus bitch."

"Okay!" Shepard held up a hand. "Can we sit and eat like normal people who hate each other?"

"And how exactly is that?" Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"They don't talk to each other." Shepard looked between the two. "Can you handle that?"

"Oh, yeah." Jack leaned forward to shovel rice into her mouth. "In that case…Shepard, tell the cheerleader those boots make her look like an expensive whore."

Miranda stiffened in response and her eyes narrowed.

"Miranda," Shepard said, looking over to her, "Jack says you look lovely tonight."

"Well played, Shepard!" Garrus held out his hand and they high-fived. Or…high-five and high-threed.

"I like to think so." Shepard contentedly started cutting into the slab of meat on her tray.

"I can actually hear her, Shepard," Miranda said.

"And," Jack said, "tell her that her tits look fake."

Shepard looked up. "She says you have magnificent breasts."

"Oh God—really?" Miranda's brows knitted together. "Magnificent—honestly!"

Shepard fought to keep her face impassive. This was probably turning out just a little too well for her. "I know, it's impressive that I know big words. We can't all rebuild people from next to nothing, but I will have you know that I once made it to the second round of a spelling bee when I was in third grade."

"Hey." Jack planted her elbows on the table. "Speaking of third grade, ask the Cerberus bitch if she enjoys torturing children."

"What?" Miranda's icy gaze met Jack's blazing one, and both Shepard and Garrus froze.

Nope. Definitely not working out well. At all.

The few lower deck crew members seemed to slow, glancing over from the kitchen and around the support wall. "What is that supposed to mean?" Miranda ground out.

"Don't act like you don't fucking know."

"Okay!" Shepard waved her arms in the middle of their gazes. "Alright, family dinner time is over, kids!"

"Cerberus did this to me!" Jack jumped up.

"That's ridiculous," Miranda answered calmly, folding her hands on the table. "Cerberus would never do such a thing to any human—"

"That what Project Overlord taught you?" Jack sneered back.

That made Miranda bolt out of her chair. Shepard was scrambling in her mind for a way to make peace. At least the table was between them. For now. It wouldn't be long before biotics were flying, the table caught in the crossfire. "Project Overlord was a mistake!" Miranda shouted, fists clenching at her sides. Almost instantly, she made an obvious effort to relax her body. "Run by a mad doctor who thought—"

"It was Cerberus." Jack narrowed her eyes. "Or are you really so fucking dense that you think—"

"Hey!" Shepard shouted, jumping onto the table. Graceless, yes, but then again, she wasn't exactly used to finesse. She did tend to charge around the battlefield like an ADHD battering ram with guns. There was no question now—everyone was staring, preparing to run or hide. "That's enough." She looked between the two women.

"Fuck this bullshit." Jack grabbed her tray. "This is why I kill people instead of work with them," she said, starting back to the elevator. "You ever decide to tell the Illusive Fuck where to shove it, Shepard, then we can talk."

Shepard looked down to Miranda, a dozen emotions fighting for dominance in her eyes. "You okay?"

Her face quickly pulled back to the inexpressive mask she so often wore. "You can probably get off the table now, Commander."

"Oh…yeah." Shepard hopped down and glanced at the other faces. "Show's over, people," she called. "As you were!"

"I should…" Miranda picked up her own tray. "I should get back to work, anyway. Shepard, when you have a chance, I do have some more data on the Collectors you should probably have a look at."

Shepard sighed as she left, then looked at Garrus. "Dammit, Garrus, why do you have to start so much drama?"

"Sorry." He raised his hands slightly. "Guess my scars didn't up your chances with the ladies. I'm still irresistible."

"It's the blue." Shepard sighed and propped her elbow on the table, rested her cheek on her fist. "Maybe I should slap on some blue face paint, too."

"Couldn't hurt. Maybe red just isn't your color."

/ / /

"Shepard, you shouldn't be going down there alone."

Shepard glanced up from her seat on the shuttle step, strapping on her shin plates. She shoveled a handful of hair out of her eyes and looked between Garrus and Miranda, the latter of which had just spoken. "We scanned the entire area. There's no activity of any kind."

"Mmhm. You say that now, and what happens when an army of heavy mechs sprouts out of nowhere and you have no backup?" Garrus waved a hand in the air. "There's hardly any Shepard without a sharp-shooting Vakarian."

Miranda shifted her weight, glancing at the helmet Shepard had shoved into her arms a few minutes before, telling her to hold it. "He has a point."

"Great." Shepard threw a hand in the air. "My first mate and my executive officer are ganging up on me. You know what? My shotgun is very handy when…" The sight of Miranda's slight, but bemused half-grin derailed Shepard's train of thought. It vanished in an instant, replaced by her business-face.

"I wasn't talking about that."

Shepard shook her head and bent over again, double-checking the atmospheric seals at her knees and ankles. "That won't happen."

Garrus shuffled a few steps in a useless circle. "I'm here if you need me. You know that."

Shepard sighed heavily after her final armor checks. "I just…I need to do this." She hauled herself up, took the helmet from her XO's hands, and strapped it on.

Garrus made a noise that sounded something like a flanged grunt in his throat before nodding. "I understand."

"Thanks." Shepard looked over and smiled, hoping he could see at least part of it through her breather.

He put a hand on her shoulder before starting for the elevator.

"Shepard, this has to be the worst idea I've heard in a long time," Miranda said.

"Oh come on!" Shepard tilted her head. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"That's among a list of famous last words," she said, crossing her arms and looking away. "Almost number one."

"Oh? And what is number one?"

" 'Watch what I can do.' And I distinctly remember you shouting that before charging a krogan in the quarantine zone."

"Kasumi thought it was cool."

"Then take her!"

Shepard reached out and took her arms. "Miranda," she said quietly, giving her a small shake. "I'll be fine." She watched her bite at her lower lip. "Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?"

The Cerberus operative finally looked back and met the woman's eyes through the visor. "No."

"'Course not." She gave her arms a gentle squeeze before pulling away and hopping in the shuttle. "I'll be back before you can say needledick."