Reiner. Reiner, plz. Why are you reading a middle-aged housewife book? Can old copies of Better Homes and Gardens be far behind? Does Bertolt know your reading taste took a sudden turn for smut central?

Whatever, it's not Jean's concern. He side-eyes the book a little, but holds his tongue. He understands how insidious the boredom can be. He hasn't personally resorted to shitty Twilight fanfiction yet, but he might not be that far behind. God, he'd sell his soul for an hour on the Internet!

"Can you teach me how to shoot?" It's no secret that Jean knows dick-all about guns, and he figures he should probably have some vague idea of how they work.