Chapter Text
Chapter 11
Whole Again
The surprise went off without a hitch. Even better than she hoped, frankly.
At the apartment’s threshold, Kasumi saw the shadows darkening Shep’s periphery vanish, the dense and seemingly inescapable gloom breaking beneath the resplendent glow of the sun-like stars now shining upon her. She saw the glistening sky, awash in emotion. She felt the trembling hand squeeze hers in gratitude.
She squeezed it back, before slipping free.
“Go on,” she said. “They’re waiting for you.”
Shepard swallowed roughly. She tried to subtly clear her throat and recompose herself.
“What about you?” she asked, voice wavering slightly.
“I’ll be nearby.” Kasumi smiled. “You know me, mingling like a normal person isn’t my style.”
“Heh. Right.”
Kasumi watched as she hurried into the apartment, nearly jogging to close the distance and confirm beyond question that the Normandy crew were real, every stride closer propelling her free of fear’s crushing gravity which had threatened to tear her spirit apart.
It was wonderful to see. Even more wonderful to feel in the tangible decompression of tension within her frail frame, as though the last pieces of debris and rubble burying Shep had finally been removed, and now she could breathe in something more than a desperate, shallow breath as her rescuers carried her to safety.
Lingering in the doorway, a triumphant smile lifted the corners of Kasumi’s lips at the sight of Ana’s liberation from an ever-present dread, and at the presence of the crew themselves.
They’d made it. So much could’ve gone wrong. So much had gone wrong for the crew, from Kaiden and Garrus being wounded in the final push, to Hackett’s retreat forcing them to leave Shepard behind, inevitably facing a mass deceleration and emergency landing on another planet, creating additional obstacles in their attempt to return to Sol.
The odds were against them, as always. Seriously, had everyone on the Normandy walked under ladders and crossed paths with black cats in a past life? They had to be the unluckiest, lucky crew in the galaxy. No matter where they went, they always ended up stepping into a rachni nest and fighting colossal space monsters, sometimes at the same time, and they were usually the ones walking away triumphant.
Shep only ever settles for the best, she mused. If she didn’t, we all would’ve died in the Collector Base, if we even made it that far.
Nothing was ever truly certain, of course. The cards didn’t always favor the Normandy crew. It wasn’t like the Lazarus Project sprang out of a glorious victory over the Collectors.
Regardless, despite the odds, the Normandy and her crew had returned to the Citadel. They were here now, all heads accounted for. All except those they lost during the war, at least.
I know it isn’t perfect, thought the thief, crossing her arms. I’m not sure any of us have ever had the fortune of everything going perfectly in our lives. Still, seeing all of you again, seeing Ana look like she’s walking on air—this is a gift. A win.
In my heart I know it’s a selfish triumph. It doesn’t change things for Legion, Thane, or Mordin, or for Ashely Williams. I’ve met so many who have lost people they can never get back, who can never go home because their colony was destroyed.
But we can brood over big picture issues tomorrow. It’s not like they’re going anywhere.
For now, she thought, lowering her arms and sauntering into the apartment, that we’re all here together is enough for me.
As the doors hissed shut behind her, Kasumi vanished beneath a tactical cloak.
Not everything had to change.
Besides, socializing and mingling like a “normal person” was boring. It anchored you to a single conversation, a single place, like staring at the same side of a tidally locked celestial body for eternity, never seeing or knowing what existed in its shadow.
She couldn’t live like that. Everyone was finally gathered together again. If she stayed anchored in one area, opportunities for gossip and teasing would slip through her fingers, and so would chances to slip away for thorough investigations into drawers, rooms, and closets not yet pilfered of their secrets.
So, the thief glided around the room in silence, invisible to the naked eye. Well, all naked eyes except the prothean, at least; Javik always picked up on her presence, but she couldn’t do anything about that.
I wonder if he can actually see through my cloaking technology, she pondered. Or maybe it’s only disrupting the wavelengths of light enough to make my silhouette visible to him. I would ask him, but, well…
Being treated to a riveting tale of “Back in my cycle,” had the same appeal of being tossed out an airlock.
To be honest, given everything she’d learned about Javik, Kasumi doubted he’d provide any real answers anyway. He didn’t even tell people what he ate—prevented the risk of poisoning, apparently. Asking him to give up an edge like tracking cloaked “primitives” wouldn’t get her anywhere.
She’d have better luck stealing secrets from STG. Might even get away with it, too.
Shepard approached Garrus first, but her attention was pulled in all directions towards the various members of her crew. She rested a hand on the turian’s armored shoulder.
“It’s damn good to see you all in one piece.”
“Won’t get rid of us that easy. Compared to Tarak’s gunship, I barely got a scratch on me.”
“It’s almost too bad. A few more scars and the krogan may have finally found you mildly attractive, Garrus.”
“Ha! Hm! Well, I suppose you are the expert. As I recall, you already earned a mating request after Grunt’s Rite of Passage. You may have a line outside your door like Wrex if you aren’t careful, Shepard.”
Kasumi appeared in the kitchen, hand to chin and head tilted to the side in thought.
“Now that you mention it, does that mean I’ll need to start preparing to fight krogans over the right to be Shep’s mate? Actually, do the krogan believe in monogamy with their mates? Where’s Grunt? I have so many questions.”
Then she vanished.
“Nice to see some things never change,” Garrus said, amused.
From the shadows, as Shepard settled into the kitchen area, Kasumi watched her gaze drift from Garrus and Kaiden, searching them for wounds, anomalies—anything to hint at an abnormality in their respective conditions.
They’d been the last crew members she saw in person before the war ended, neither in what anyone would call healthy condition. Neither were wounded now, however. They weren’t bleeding, burned, or missing limbs. There weren’t any new scars anyone could see at a glance.
Kaiden, for his part, was already making use of the power flowing into the apartment and the supplies Kasumi had gathered, cooking at the oven with the audience of Samantha Traynor, Doctor Chakwas, Kenneth Donnelly, and Gabriella Daniels.
Even if they weren't wounded, to call any of their conditions healthy would’ve been a stretch, one capable of tearing a muscle off the bone. The armor Garrus wore did well to maintain the tall and strong silhouette turians were known for, but Liara, Tali, and the human crew members were all visibly thinner, like Shep. Even James and his intense musculature had narrowed since the shore leave party.
Restricted rations, obviously. They’d been living under the uncertainty of when or if they could make it back to a safe harbor, so the food had to be stretched thin, long enough to keep them all alive and capable of functioning properly.
Same old story, really. She’d seen the same signs in herself, Miranda, Jack, Samara, and Zaeed since the recovery effort began. It was difficult to tell on Grunt, but krogan were a hardier species, in the end.
It’s just another part of our new normal, Kasumi thought. Even if we fixed the Relay tomorrow, it’s going to take time to build a reliable supply chain to feed so many people.
They’d make it work, she believed. They didn’t have any other choice.
Not any good ones, at least.
I heard they’re close to fixing hydroponics and aeroponics on the Citadel, her thoughts drifted as she meandered out of the kitchen. I’m not sure any of the soil on Earth is viable, but there may still be areas capable of yielding crops. Or at least I hope there are.
If not, we’ll just have to work on building new or repairing old hydroponic and aeroponic facilities. Otherwise I’m not sure how we’ll feed the people who can’t eat human foods.
Did the Citadel have a seed vault?
It seemed logical, assuming the Reapers didn’t destroy it during the occupation. Maybe she’d ask Bailey about it later. Additionally, given all the aliens who shipped off to Earth to defend it, there would have to be more alien-based rations floating around in Sol.
Quarian liveships and their agricultural workers would serve as wells of information on ship-based agriculture and battling food insecurity, if people were willing to listen.
Kasumi paused. Shut her eyes. Took a breath.
Those thoughts could wait. They had to wait. If she didn’t enjoy these moments when they came, she’d sink back into that bottomless abyss, where it was hard to breathe, and hard to see how they’d ever make it out alive.
We’ll figure it out, she thought, opening her eyes.
Shepard had exited the kitchen. She quickly found EDI in the main room, standing adjacent to Joker, and didn’t hesitate to hug her. A gesture reciprocated by the synthetic being.
“Hello, Shepard. Did we worry you?” EDI wondered amusedly when the Commander stepped back.
“Yeah,” she said, voice tight. “You could say that.”
Kasumi exhaled softly, and for six long beats. The tense spring at her core, tightening the muscles in her jaw, neck, and shoulders, loosened, relaxing but not alleviating the ache the tension left behind.
Gently, she held onto the N7 tags hanging around her neck, finding security in their company; they’d kept her hopes alive through those long first days, and continued to help her stay in the fight, no matter how hopeless it seemed. Just like the person they belonged to.
We’ll figure it out, she thought again. So enjoy yourself. Everyone aboard the Normandy made it back safe and sound. Right now, that’s all that matters.
We’ll get back to the fight tomorrow.
The restless thoughts quietened. For the moment.
Shepard made her way around to everyone. There were handshakes, hugs, and no short supply of quips or wry remarks from Commander and crew. Kasumi, of course, peppered in her own when an opening arose, and quickly slipped away.
Just like old times.
Had someone fallen asleep at the party then awoke to the reunion, they may not have even noticed the passage of time. Everyone picked up right where they left off, a little thinner, a little weary, a little less energetic, but otherwise unchanged. Unbroken, despite the Reapers best efforts.
Of course there were others with restless thoughts of their own. She noticed it in Miranda, who Shepard intercepted as the former Cerberus Officer made rounds, checking to ensure everyone was okay as she and Jack had done since returning to the Citadel.
Miranda put in a valiant effort, arguing Shepard deserved a chance to rest and enjoy herself, but there were few who could win an argument with the N7.
“You’ve been working nonstop since you arrived. Take time for yourself tonight, Miranda.” Shepard smiled. “I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time. Trust me.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“All right,” she conceded.
Only when Miranda had moved to join the mingling groups did the thief speak up from behind the Commander.
“Shep, one. Crew, zero,” she quipped.
“You know, that same order goes for…”
Shepard turned around to see an empty space.
“…You… Right,” she exhaled a short chuckle. “I forgot. You are having fun, by your very strange standards.”
“I knew you’d remember.”
Kasumi gave her side a gentle poke, from her blindspot. Anastasia attempted to grab the offending wrist. Her hand only found air.
“Hey!” Shepard giggled. “Not fair, Kasumi.”
“I know. That’s what makes it fun,” Kasumi said before gliding off in search of new mischief.
Another among the restless was Liara, who she found poring over her omni-tool, likely trying to determine what resources, if any, she had left from the Shadow Broker network, and how to best use those assets to improve survival.
Shepard would find her, too, behind the large table in the dining area, where a model of the Normandy SR-2 was displayed. Once more Shepard would bravely dive into the fray to ensure the Shadow Broker embraced the moment while she could.
There was no telling when or if they’d catch a break, Liara attempted to argue, since they were wading into unfamiliar and unknown territory from here on out.
Coincidentally, that, too, was just like old times.
“Even without taking into account the threat of depleting resources, the political and societal upheaval in the Sol System is unprecedented,” Liara said. “It could tear everything we fought for apart.”
“I know,” Shepard said. “But things are stabilized right now.”
“We don’t know how long that will last.”
“More reason to rest while you can, wouldn’t you say?”
Liara smiled faintly. “There’s no winning against you, is there?”
“Afraid not.” Shepard smiled. Then rested a hand on her shoulder. “We won. Take a moment to enjoy it. C-Sec, the Council, and the Allied Forces have stitched our wounds and stabilized the situation for now. If you want work done, have Glyph start researching and compiling data on the Sol Systems situation; you’ve only just arrived, so you’ll need data to get your bearings, and that’s going to take time.”
“You’re right, of course.” Liara sighed. “All right. You win.”
“Enjoy yourself. We’ll get back to the fight tomorrow.”
“Of course. And… Thank you, Shepard.”
Liara moved to join the gathering. Kasumi counted five strides before she spoke up.
“Shep, two. Crew, zero.”
“Heh, still got it,” she quipped.
“Never lost it, if you ask me.”
“I don’t mind it, but are you going to be following me all night?”
Silence answered the Commander.
“Kasumi?”
Shepard moved her hands and arms through the immediate space around her body, searching for an invisible hand. Simultaneously she tilted her head, visibly attempting to expand her sense of hearing, seeking out the faintest sound of soft breaths or quiet footsteps.
There was nothing.
“I guess not.”
Kasumi held her breath. She approached one stride, two, three, and as Shepard took her first step to leave, she struck, gently poking both of her sides in a quick sneak attack.
Anastasia sucked in a sharp breath, her whole body suffered a pleasant jolt, and then instinct guided her to rotate around.
Quick reflexes kept the thief safe. She skipped back, evading the outreaching hands, then utilized her greater agility to slip away before any further retaliation could form.
“Kasumi!” Anastasia gasped somewhere between a scolding and giggle.
“Just trying to keep your reflexes sharp,” she said innocently.
“Well, at least you’re having fun,” Shepard conceded with a sigh.
She was. But, then, they were all having fun, each in their own ways.
The apartment lacked the high-tempo music pounding through the walls and high-octane energy of the shore leave party, but that was okay. They didn’t need it today. Just having nearly everyone together under the same roof again had already done wonders for the crews morale and spirits.
Like at the first party, there were more smiles and laughter shared here in their little oasis than onboard the ships, within the facilities, or on the battlefields they’d all found themselves on at some point.
Here, among comrades, it finally sank in for those serving aboard the Normandy.
They’d made it.
They won.
Their troubles weren’t over. Far from it. But, for now, they could breathe in their victory, bask in their triumph and relief for all it was worth, together with those they had shed blood beside, and in memory of those they’d lost along the way.
As Kasumi meandered between the groups, popping in now and then with a quip, she came upon James retelling the tale of the Normandy’s crash landing and all that occurred on the planet they’d had an unscheduled stay upon to an eager crowd listeners, including Shepard.
Of course, the tale had some creative liberties taken. Unless they were meant to believe James fought off a pack of varren with his bare hands.
“So, there I was,” James said intensely, “my rifle's broken, chewed in two by a varren. I lost my sidearm in the initial ambush, my omni-tool is busted, and I’m surrounded by six of ‘em. Drool is pouring from their mouths. They’re hungry, and we’re hungry. And all I’ve got left to defend me are these guns.”
James flexed his muscles, and though he’d lost size since they last met, his strong physique was still very impressive. His audience offered a mix of hoots, smirks, head shakes, and eye rolls.
“I take my stance,” he continued, mirroring his combat stance. “I prepare to make my move, when something heavy pounces my back. I stumble forward, pivot and pin ‘im down beneath my knee. I grab ahold of his jaw and I start pulling it apart.”
He kneeled on the floor, imitating his tremendous struggle, gritting his teeth and writhing with an invisible varren attempting to break free beneath him.
“He’s fighting me. I can feel him trying to clamp down on my fingers when—snap!” Vega pulled the invisible jaw apart. “I kill him. But it’s not over. No rest for the wicked, am I right?
There were snickers and snorts. Kasumi grinned beneath her tactical cloak.
“Another tackles me, and this time I go down. Bad place to be,” he said with a hilariously unsettling grimness. “I’m on my back, trying to get him off, and he’s trying to get his teeth around my neck. He misses the first time. Nearly gets my arm the second time. That’s when I buried my thumb in his eye.
“He scatters off of me and I scramble to my feet, just as his buddies try to take chunks out of my legs. My hand touches the ground, and what do I feel? A stick. Not just any stick, though. This one’s been shaped into a spear. Coincidence, no?”
A few more snickers broke free of the crew.
“I picked up my new weapon.” James rose into a crouch, clutching an invisible spear as he stared hard at the five varren still prowling around him. “I see One-Eye, and he sees me. This time I’m ready for him. One-Eye snarls, then leaps in. I thrust forward. ‘Ha!’ And bury the spear into his beating heart. He falls, dead. Then his buddy lunges in and snaps my spear in half with a single bite. I think he was the same pendejo who chewed my rifle in two.
“An average person would’ve been left weak in the knees by now, may have thrown in the towel. James Vega is anything but average. I couldn’t quit. I had to rescue Scars.”
“Wait, how did I get in this story?” Garrus asked.
“You see, the varren kidnapped Scars; they mistook him for one of their pups. You know, ‘cause of the…” He gestured vaguely to his face. “So there was no choice. Lola wouldn’t have backed down, and neither could I. One by one I killed the remaining four with my bare hands. Scars fainted at the glorious sight of the one and only James Vega’s pure strength. Got him and the meat back to the Normandy. He may not remember a thing, but we ate good for a while thanks to yours truly.”
Abrupt snorts and laughter rang out for the ridiculous tale.
Sometimes that was all anyone needed, a lighthearted quip or story to relieve the stress and repaint a hardship into something which could bring joy.
For Kasumi, although the story split her lips in a grin, her eyes were drawn to the sky now clear of all the weary clouds, and the joyful smile and delightful laugh that made her heart feel full and warm.
You know, Kasumi thought, absorbing every bit of the joy, even though there’s still plenty of work to be done, I think…
She caught herself as she prepared to slip away again, hand pausing as it rose towards the N7 tags around her neck.
No, I don’t just think, I know…
After a breath she maneuvered through the crowd, arrived at Anastasia’s side, and slipped her hand into the Commander’s as her cloak deactivated.
Shepard’s smile widened when their eyes met. Their fingers intertwined.
“Enjoying yourself?” Anastasia asked.
“Yep.” Kasumi smiled.
We’re going to be all right.
As the reunion pressed on, people glided from one group to another, reminiscing with friends and comrades they hadn’t seen much of during the war.
They discussed better days, weaved stories of amusing anecdotes and tall-tales, curiously probing if this or that rumor tied to someone’s reputation had any merit to it. Some found common ground in shared tastes in vids or hobbies, while others bantered harmlessly over sporting events where a favorite team had either won or loss, and whether or not the referees were totally blind or bribed.
Some started up a no-stakes game of Skyllian-Five as they chatted. Some joined them as observers, continuing their conversations and sharing drinks. Others simply found a quiet place away from the conversations, taking a moment for themselves while they could, comforted by the familiarity and camaraderie even at a distance.
For Anastasia, she drifted from one group to another as both a host and simply as a friend who was grateful to see them all alive, one who, at times, without warning, endured a wonderfully awful tightness in her chest just by being near them.
When she awoke in the hospital bed, and Kasumi tearfully hugged her weary body, the Normandy and all of its crew were still missing in action, somewhere far beyond the reach of current communication limitations, lost in the infinite black sea.
She feared the worst. How could she not after everything the Reapers had taken from them?
Yet here they were. Alive.
Pausing at the doorway to the ground floor guest room, Anastasia braced a trembling hand on the wall and squeezed her wet eyes shut as her chest grew tight again. Her vocal cords strained and trembled with sweet and raw relief, heat emanated throughout her body.
For a long moment Shepard didn’t move. It may have been a minute. Maybe longer. She didn’t know. All she focused on was breathing, inhaling for four beats and exhaling for eight, bracing her trembling frame against the wall while being swept off to sea along roaring emotional currents, overwhelmed by warm waves of gratitude crashing over her, and the sudden release of anxieties she’d been fighting not to drown in.
They were okay.
They made it.
Somehow, someway, they’d made it. And she was so, so grateful for it.
When the currents finally returned her to shore, she wiped her cheeks dry and entered the bedroom, returning to the mission at hand, and feeling immensely lighter than before.
It’d been some time since she’d last seen Kasumi or heard her voice anywhere in the apartment.
It was nothing out of the norm, of course. Sneaking around, gathering gossip, and slipping a sly quip into a conversation and leaving in hit-and-run style attacks were Kasumi's preferred ways of mingling.
Nevertheless, Anastasia wanted to thank her for the surprise. More selfishly, she wanted to stop and spend a moment together. Just the two of them.
After a quick sweep through the ground floor, with confirmation no one else had seen her, she arrived at what seemed to be the obvious conclusion and set off with a destination in mind.
Now, as the N7 entered the familiar closet, where she once found the thief rummaging through her underwear, she scanned it for the familiar shimmer of a tactical cloak, certain if Kasumi would be anywhere, it would be here.
Shepard blinked.
She’s…not here?
She pursed her lips.
Well, it made sense, in hindsight. These drawers had already been plundered for secrets, by Kasumi and by Reapers or scavengers.
I’m honestly not sure which would be worse between the Reapers and scavengers, she thought, eyeing the drawers with a frown. Not sure I want an answer, either.
Briefly, Shepard stared at the empty space, almost expecting a shimmer to appear, or for the thief to sneak up behind her and poke her sides again. She waited, listened.
When nothing occurred she set off on the hunt, heading up the stairs to the first floor where more untouched drawers awaited.
She entered the seating area, and stopped. There, sitting with arms hugged around her knees and her back supported by the arm rest, was Kasumi, in one of the few quiet and unoccupied areas in the apartment. The N7's movement and abrupt stop caught her eye, drawing her attention from clouded inner thoughts to a clear sky.
“Hey Shep.”
And with that familiar greeting, matched by an affectionate smile, another rush of warm relief poured through Anastasia. She smiled unconsciously.
“Hey. May I join you?”
“Of course.”
Shepard sat at the middle cushion, bent her right knee in, and turned part of the way to face Kasumi. She rested her right arm along the back of the couch.
“You know,” she began with a smile in her voice, “I’m a little surprised. I expected you would be searching through my drawers again.”
“Being unpredictable is apart of my charm. Have to keep you on your toes.” Kasumi winked.
“Consider me on the tips of them today.”
“Good. Now all I have left to do is make them curl.”
She couldn’t fight the grin tugging at her lips. She leaned her head right and propped it up on her hand.
“Think you’ll manage?”
“Mmhm. I have a good feeling about my chances.”
“Was it the lingerie that gave it away?”
“No. Your confession of love was a good sign, though.”
“Heh,” she exhaled an awkward laugh, glanced away briefly. “Yeah. I suppose that would do it.”
“There was also the kissing incident in your hospital room. Miranda will never let us live that down. I think the nurses are still gossiping about us.”
“Worth it. And you ambushed me first, by the way.”
“I have no regrets. Although, now that you mention it, your exquisite taste in lingerie really does improve my chances, doesn’t it?”
“Seems that way.” She smiled. Then shrugged. “Assuming I don’t burn it.”
Kasumi feigned a gasp. “You wouldn’t!”
“I’m still considering it.”
“But I haven’t been able to see you wear it yet!”
“Use your imagination.”
“I have! It isn’t as good as the real thing!”
An abrupt puff of laughter broke free of Anastasia, the thief’s earnest expression taking her by complete surprise—whether feigned or not, she couldn’t say, and that alone escalated the sudden laugh into a fit of giggles, voice leaping up an octave against her will.
Kasumi ducked her head forward, shoulders shaking.
“Have I convinced you to keep them yet?” she wondered through a breathy laugh.
Shepard turned her head away, another giggle bubbling out of her. She strained against a smile for a natural expression, to no real avail. Her cheeks were warm, and sore.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Smiling, she shrugged and met Kasumi’s gaze again. “I have to keep you on your toes somehow.”
Kasumi hummed a chuckle.
Shepard shut her eyes and decompressed beneath a sigh.
She honestly couldn’t remember the last time her cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much. It seemed like another life, almost. Another time, far from the war and suicidal odds her career would end up defined by, and far from the weariness her recovery was so often cloaked in.
She’d forgotten how good it felt.
“Thank you,” she said without prompting, looking at Kasumi with all her earnestness, and her heart unshielded.
“Ah”—the thief glanced away bashfully—“I didn’t do anything really. The whole Normandy crew worked hard to get everyone back safely. I just made sure they regrouped here.”
“It was a wonderful surprise, but I wasn’t talking just about today,” she said. “It’s everything you’ve done, and everything you continue to do. Miranda told me you helped find the cybernetics she needed while I was in critical condition. Kahlee and Jack have mentioned you found gifts for David Archer, as well as the other students at Grissom Academy. Your influence has pushed people to donate their time, resources, and even their blood to help those in need. You give people hope. You give me hope.”
“Ana, you don’t… You don’t have to say anything—”
“No, I do,” she interrupted.
I’ve already made that mistake once. This time, she thought, I won’t take any of these moments for granted. Not while you’re still in reach.
“You’ve been at my side every day through my recovery, even on the hard days when physical therapy was painful, or when I was quiet because of my night terrors. You had enough on your plate aiding the recovery effort, spreading hope as the Mist Walker, but you still made time for me, no matter how tired you were. Just to be at my side as support.”
She rested a hand atop the thief’s knee, caressed her thumb over it.
“Thank you. You being here,” she said, “it means the world to me, Kasumi.”
“I…” Kasumi paused, caught off-guard.
A warm smile then tugged at her lips. She scooted closer, close enough to cuddle, and draped her legs over Shepard’s lap.
“Ditto, Shep.”
“Shep, three. Crew, zero,” Shepard declared, smiling and resting a hand on Kasumi’s thigh.
“I can live with that.”
Anastasia smirked. “Still got it.”
The thief cupped her cheek and leaned closer.
“Never lost it,” she whispered before their lips met.