Title: Le Cage D'Assassin 
Author: Shana Nolan, dpangel@thegrid.net
Rating:  It's really NC-17, but there are R moments.  Language and smut.
Archiving: since I suspect SC has one, archive away! :)  all others ask
first.
Comments:  Good ones feed the ego and are welcome, flames will be doused
with fire marshal code extinguishers.
Disclaimers:  God King L*c*s, I have no money and my Muses would drive you
nuts, even tho they are damn sexy.  You could sue me, but since I actually
had to pay on this year's taxes, I have nothing to win in settlement.  How
do you feel about payment in plot bunnies?  We seem to have plenty of those
around here…
Summary/notes:  Um, okay.  I seem to have bought my ticket to hell with this
story and I think I'm proud of it. :)  I've got Obi, Qui and a "bit" of
sammich action, and the plot was a pain in the butt, and I warn you now that
the narrative voice/female char. is crass... there is no politically correct
here..... <g>  If you like Denis Leary, you'll love her.   Also, this is
first person POV.

**************

I can't believe I'm doing this.  I mean, I'm a grown woman, a professional
at that, with absolutely no moralistic standards to live by and I'm sitting
here on a damned transport to my distant sand pit to be -friendly.-

I'm not paid to be friendly.

But noo, he walked into my life and utterly screwed me up.  Both personally
and professionally and now the price I get to pay is arguing ardently with
myself like some nut about the reasons behind my latest job.

'Kay, so maybe I'm not being clear, something which I've been plagued with
for the last couple days.   It's simple and goes like this: I'm an assassin
and he's a fucking Jedi.

A Jedi!  If my employers knew that my head had been turned by the very thing
they hated most, they'd have my intestines on a platter within hours for me
to "savour in my last moments."  I mean, come on, the person I replaced had
his testicles cut off and was generously afforded the misery of watching
himself bleed to unconsciousness shortly before being tossed into one of the
more acidic lakes of Gin-Himou.

Bad asses would be the beginning of the description of my bosses.   When
they call me with a job, I don't say "no."

But that mission to Krakas, or Krack Ass as I would come to call it cause of
the generally drug laden and dirty populace, that was the downfall of the
stoic paid murderer.

There were three factions on that shit-hole of a planet.  One called my
bosses and asked for the head of another faction leader.  The second one
called the Jedi and asked for "a more peaceful solution" as the damned Jedi
would tell me later and the third, well, the third was the faction whose
leader was wanted dead and was causing all the trouble in the first place.

Travel was easy as always; there's always some pirate or intergalactic
trader looking for a secretive yet lucrative fare and we assassins keep good
track of the best ones, like the guy I hired to get me to Krack Ass.  Solid
blue with black eyes, no hair and the worst smell since the sewer line broke
in the place I laughingly call a home, at least he was reliable.  He never
made a pass at me, either, but that probably had more to do with the fact
that he wasn't equipped with a wanker.

Little details.

So I arrived and was immediately ferreted over to some dingy hole in a wall
that served fire water with a lot more water than fire.  Cheap bastards,
you'd think they'd want someone with a love of killing to be more properly
inebriated in their presence.

My target was easy, apparently the lout was Narcissus incarnate, paraded his
fruity ass in public places more than he should have and had more mirrors in
his flat than most actors.   And he wasn't even that hot, fairly bland in my
estimate, but I guess I'm biased.  You travel the galaxy and not be a tad
more picky about what beauty is.

Which is probably the root of my current problem.

The first night, sitting on the fourth story ledge watching Mr. Fruity, I
caught glimpse of him.  Through the binoculars I watched the faction leader
guy do his nightly routine, but he was interrupted by a rap at his door, one
so loud that it nearly blew the mike on the listening device I had set up.

His visitors were the Jedi.  I mean, even at distance, they're hard to miss.
The natural tone robes and shit are a dead giveaway.  Add in their rigid
posture and hidden hands and bam, you've got the tight assed defenders of
the meek, stupid and oppressed talking to my target.

Two of 'em, one of them definitely taller than the other, the other younger
and with one of those weird braids hanging down his chest.  For most of the
conversation they were near the door, partially obstructing my view, but
when Mr. Fruity backed up a little to do his "I can't be in danger, the
people love me" routine, I caught a good glance at the other.

He was tall, damn tall, like a Wookie next to a Jawa tall.  His lower face
was mostly covered by a beard, which annoyed me to no end cause the damned
thing partially blocks the lips; do you know how hard it is to read lips
when you can't see one of them?

But the hair.  Shit, I'm such a weak little pansy for longer hair on guys.
They could be the ugliest thing on the current planet, but give 'em locks
past their shoulders and you've got me drooling over them until I come back
to my senses.

Mr. Fruity gave his whole routine, something I'd see at least three more
times from my perch, and when it was done, the Jedi looked bored.  Well,
hell, why shouldn't they be?  I was considering dropping some of the native
coin from my high up place just to see how big a dent they would make in the
pavement below.

Which was when the tall one walked to the window and looked out.  Not down
to the street below, not up at the skyline, but at me.  Dammit, busted.  I
hate when that happens.

So I froze.  What was I going to do, jump?  I was bold, not stupid, so I set
the blaster resting on my thigh down on the ledge a little out of view and
waved.  Gave a big "I know why I'm here, do you?" smile and watched his
smug, fuzzy face turn annoyed.  He left the window and a few minutes later
they were gone.

But after that, dammit, Mr. Fruity promptly drew the blinds on the window
and cut off my view.

Therefore, bored and with nothing better to do, I went off-duty.  Hey, I
knew where the target lived, had observed some of his behaviour and come to
the easy conclusion that the thorn in the side of many people would be
easily pruned.  The bar I chose to abscond to was not unlike the first I had
been to, equally dank and disgusting, but to its credit, they used a little
less water.

After the first drink I felt a bit better, the long haired Jedi had pissed
me off, but not done anything to indicate that he would be a problem.  Last
time I ran into a Jedi, the stupid bugger ended up playing noble and
accidentally eating my blaster shot.

Oh, and for the record, I don't have a "stun" setting, its bad for business.

But that one was just doing his job, much like this pair, and despite the
fact that my success list would make the black cloaks envious, I still hated
killing that one.

Second drink, with ice, the spendthrifts, wasn't handed to me by the waiter;
upon lifting the glass from the extended hand I noticed the tell tale signs
of those beige and brown robes resting on the wrist.  Oh, shit.

The one with the braid sits down in the chair across from me, giving me this
dubious look.  He had great eyes, the kind of eyes that scream "worship me
at my bed!", and the lineless face confirmed that this is a young one,
probably not much younger than my unfortunate victim.

"So you're the one from the ledge?"

He's asking so casually you'd think he was interested in buying my services
or something.  I shrug and empty my glass of the liquid contents.  "What of
it?"

"You were preparing to kill him."

Oh, this one's brilliant.  "It's my job, Braid."

The nickname seems to sting him, like I just insulted his mother.  "You're
an assassin."

Oh yeah, brain trust, maybe still naïve about this less than glamorous place
we call a galaxy.  "That's right, and I have no conflict with you.  Do
yourself a favour and take you and your friend off this planet and let me do
my job."

His is a sigh, and he looks deferentially over to the shadowed bar.  "We
can't do that."

At which point the internal battle started.  Moving from a barstool in a
particularly dark patch comes this huge figure, stalking my way like some
huge forest cat preparing to cut down its prey.  Yeah, like I'm prey.

And I was perfectly content to be dispassionate about the whole affair until
I saw those eyes.  Damned blue orbs blazing with intention, the kind of look
that means everyone either loves this man or hates him.

In one of his huge hands is a glass, filled to the brim with my imbibe of
choice, and as he sits his huge self down, straddling the last empty chair
at my table, he hands it over and casually says, "You know we can't leave."

Sniffing at the fluid, I'm wary.  You have to be when you have my job.  The
Jedi aren't supposed to be the poison kind of people, but in a bar like
this, being faced down by two justice happy warriors, I'm not going to
question anything I'm not 110% sure about.

He's watching me, the tall one, so with a final sniff I throw luck to the
wind and knock back the entire glass.  This surprises him a little, so I
remark, "And you expect me to be sober in my line of work?"

The Braid gives the tall one a look.  "Master, we should turn her into the
authorities."

At which point my mental waves of disgust bother their hypersensitive little
selves so much that they both immediately turn and give me quizzical looks.
Yeah, I know in their Temple they do the Master and Apprentice thing, but
I'll be damned if my own un-cloistered life has taught me a different
meaning of the word.  The last time I heard it was at a slave auction,
shortly before some little girl got twenty bare backed lashes for not
smiling at her new owner.

And the younger one before me is too spirited to be broken.  In his eyes I
see a fire, bright and enduring.  Dataries to credits, that one doesn't know
how to die easy.

"You object to the word."

Ugh, now he's reading my thoughts.  Great, does this mean I have to change
my plans as soon as I leave this bar? "Yes," I start, knowing that I've now
opened my mouth and have begun the process of sticking my foot in it.  I
always was a loudmouth.  "I do.  You Jedi live such an easy life, you've got
your pretty little Temple in the middle of the galaxy and all your
antiquated rules and systems.  For you guys 'master' is a term of respect
and honour, but from where I come from, and most people for that matter, a
'master' is someone that beats the shit out of you for not serving his tea
with the right amount of milk."

"Slavery is illegal in the Republic."

I laugh, a bitter sound that pleases neither of them.  "You don't get out
much, do you, Braid?"

Tall one isn’t feeling patient anymore, he leans across the table and points
darkly at the holster on my hip.  "You will come with us or we will turn you
into the authorities."

I raise an eyebrow at him.  Yeah, sure he's bigger than me and I've heard
about what those plasma blades of theirs can do, but life is short, play
hard, I say.  "Why?"

He actually seems to stumble for an answer outside of standard Jedi
indoctrination.  "Because, even though your method is different than ours,
we seem to have the same goal."

"Money and survival?"  So I'm pushing it, big deal.

"No.  We were sent to subdue your 'target' and have him stop his terrorism."

"If I kill him, it'll stop."  It's my job.  J-O-B.

Once again, he's not happy.  No wonder they have that thoughtful frown
reputation going, these two haven't cracked a smile once since I've seen
them.  "You always have a choice," Braid says evenly.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure your Temple is a sanctuary for my type.  Well, boys,
it's been fun, thanks for the drink, but I'll be going now."

I actually get to the door before I find my path swiftly blocked by the tall
one.  Oh great, he's fast too, just what I need.   "I'm leaving," I say
firmly.

"With us."

I raise an eyebrow, giving an upward glance to my roadblock.  "I wouldn't
mind a threesome after the shit I've had for a week, ya know, but I get the
impression you guys are all talk, so if you don't mind…"

One of his hands lands on my shoulder, holding me there.  I growl; no one
touches me unless they like losing extraneous body parts.

"I'm leaving."

At that point, and I'll be damned if I saw it coming, everything went black
and Braid caught me before I struck the hard floor and cracked my skull.


* *  *


"You assholes!  Where the hell am I?!"

I awake in this pristine room, laying on top of the covers to a bed wider
than any I've been in in a awhile, and pulling hands up, discover that these
Jedi bastards have tied me down, holding me hostage to their justice mucked
minds.

"If you thrash, you'll only bruise your wrists.  Believe me, when Obi-Wan
ties a knot, he ties it very tight."

So one of them is named Obi-Wan.  Oh, that's great.  To his credit, though,
he does tie good knots.  If I had had knots like this in my repelling rope a
couple years ago I probably wouldn't have done the swan dive into that
particular target's speeder.   "Let me out!  Who are you?!"

The Braid rises out of a chair to stand over me, giving me a private look of
don't-bother-yelling-it-won't-work.  "If you hadn't guessed already, I'm
Obi-Wan Kenobi and this is my Master," he watches me cringe at the title
again, "Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Peachy.  Nice to meet you, I'm not happy to be here so LET ME GO!"

The tall one, Jinn, turns around in his chair, holding some kind of
equipment in his hand.  "We can’t do that."

I sigh, kick at my ankle restraints and notice that they've stripped me of
my weapons.  All of them.  Blaster at my hip, second blaster in my boot,
throwing knife at my thigh, and… "Oh, you sick bastard, you touched me
there?!"

Jinn shrugs and picks up a short but nasty knife from the table.  "You
expect me to leave you armed?"

"No, I expect to be awake when you put a hand near my breasts so I can damn
well enjoy it, thankyouverymuch!"

Obi-Wan looks around as if he's trying to find a fly on the wall.  "So why
don't you tell us about your job?"

"Listen, gentle Ben, I work for people who hire me out for jobs they get
paid for and I get a cut of the money, plus the added convenience of living
another day.  It's really rather simple, so if you don't mind, I'll be on my
way to do just that and maybe actually live to see my next birthday."

"When is it?"

Great, a conversationalist.  "About three months from now.  What's it to
you?"

"So you want to live?"

At least they haven't gagged me, thereby cutting off my second to last
weapon.  "Obviously!  Let's try this again.  You Jedi, me assassin.  You
have galaxy to priss around in, me have job to do so me won't have head
stuffed down a Hutt's throat.  Clear?"

Apparently the humour is lost to him.  Figures.  "We just want to help you."

"Okay, that's it, we're not getting anywhere.  If you're going to keep me
here, knock my ass out again so we don't have to talk."

Jinn rises from the chair.  Once again, may I say that he is -tall.-  But
rather than being a nice little kidnapper and obeying the masochistic wishes
of his captive, he crosses his arms over that chest of his and quips,
"You're going to tell us about your job."

At which point I let out a few Huttese vulgarities and started talking.

******************


I only wish it ended there.  Ya know, pick up where I left off, or rather
pick up my life shortly before the Jedi boys invaded my life and my brain
and keep doing my job.

My job… something I'm good at, dammit, something I used to enjoy in
perfecting… something now currently causing a new-found irritation with the
moral conscious Jinn is trying to brow beat into me.

And it actually seems to be working.  Wanker invaded my dreams, and nooo,
it -couldn't- be a sex dream, it had to be some warped moral lesson
resembling a waking lecture.

I would have enjoyed a sex dream.

"You're ignoring me again."

I roll my eyes and lick my lips, pulling at the ankle restraints.  Giving
tall and fuzzy a very full look at the line of my inner thigh, I remark, "If
you want my attention you have to earn it."

I know what you're thinking.  I'm using my "feminine wiles" to escape.   So
what?  When the boys stripped me of my "weapons," they left the only two
reliable ones I had: my mouth and my sex.  I can talk my way out of nearly
anything, and failing that, what male creature with external genitalia isn't
at least momentarily distracted by the offering of willing intercourse?

Besides the fact that I kinda like this one.  His apprentice is cute too,
hell, they're both walking meals, starting with the meat course, but
something about this one is catching my attention long enough to prevent me
from hating his high and mighty standards.  "So, Jinn, what do you do for
fun?"

He gives me a flustered look.  I've been dodging his questions about my
employer for hours now.  "Not this."

"Obviously."

"Why won't you tell me what you know?  I'm not letting you go 'til you do."

I drop the act to give him a serious look.  "Because you don't want to know
what I do in order to not be a wall trophy."

"Is your life always in jeopardy?"

"Pretty much."   I shrug, unintentionally pulling at my wrist restraints.
"And if I gave you my boss," I add cautiously, "it wouldn't do you much good
cause there's always more where he came from."

"And I'm hardly the last of my kind."

"Better hope not.  Galaxy's a bad ass place, a lot of shit out there."

"I know."

My snide response catches in my throat, replaced by a surprised silence.
One of the "peacekeepers of the galaxy" just agreed with my estimation of
the galaxy.  Maybe I judged this one too fast, he's no tight assed priss…

"Why are you an assassin?"

"Why are you a Jedi?  How the fuck am I supposed to know what got me here?
I mean, hey, I have the basic needs: food, water, shelter and sex, plus some
extras to go around.  Strip away the blood and blasters and I've got
everything a girl needs to live."

"And the deaths of others to loom over your conscious."

I actually laugh, which in retrospect was probably a bad move on my part.
"And that fire sword of yours is 100% defensive.  Everyone dies, Jinn, I
just happen to speed it up for some."

"You have no value for life."

Oh, great, now he's being condescending, and just when I thought we were
getting somewhere.  "On the contrary, I stand in awe of it.  Whatever cosmic
joke it was to slam the divine breath of life into a set of creatures so
hell bent on misery is beyond me.  Either the great Absolute is one hell of
a prankster or someone fucked up his game board.  What amazes the hell out
of me is the perseverance of people… people like you so bound and determined
to work beyond that huge fucking obstacle and foster a sincere belief that
suffering is not the name of the game."

"And your role in this 'game?'"

I hesitate.  Most of the time when I start on my little diatribe I lose the
listening party halfway through, but this one caught me.  Damn.  Score one
for the Jedi.   "The wild card.  A person who dances with death on a regular
basis doesn't get deluded by the rules.  If they do, they're as dead as
their targets."

He regards me for this endless set of minutes, which gets me fidgeting.  I'm
not used to being stared at.  "What are they paying you to kill Nekaih?"

I blink, not realising right away that he's referring to my target.
Assigning names makes the job messier, and this one was no different, or at
least it used to be.  "10,000 dataries.  As a practice, though, I don't like
to accept credits. Too many questions."

There's a silence that falls between us, his eyes no longer locked on mine.
I can tell he's wrestling with himself over the blood money thing; I mean, I
should know, I've done it myself.  With a sigh I sink back into the bed and
stare at the ceiling.  "Look, Jinn, I'm not used to defending myself over
here, and I don't think I should have to.  By your standards I'm scum, and
ya know, that's fine by me."

"You regret nothing."

Damn him for hitting all the weak spots.  "Of course not.   Some things in
life shouldn't happen the way they do, but who the hell am I to stop them?"

The look in his eyes is growing steadily curious.  "Have you ever killed the
wrong person?"

I wince.  He just hit the huge weak spot right on the nose.  "Yes," I
mutter, staring directly at the ceiling.

His voice softens, "Who?"

I could tell him the truth and probably make him hate me right here and now,
but I'm not so sure.   I don't want him to hate me, which in itself is a bad
thing.  I'm an assassin, he's a Jedi, aren't we supposed to be sworn
enemies?  Unfortunately, though, I realise that with this one lying probably
wouldn't work anyways, so I keep my gaze firmly away from his and start
rambling like some psych patient.  "One of your type, young like that
apprentice of yours.  He was, he was trying to block my shot.  I didn't
shoot him intentionally, I only kill those I'm paid to, but the stupid idiot
that was the target ignored him and fought free of his grasp, which prompted
me to take aim before he left my firing range… I thought I had a clear shot
but the stupid shit turned the wrong way just as I was squeezing the
trigger, glanced past his ear and struck the-- struck the Jedi in the head
instead.  Nothing I could do.   I had to run and find a safer observation
point before I was discovered."

I was expecting those blue eyes to darken and show anger, but they never
did.  You'd think of all things, striking down one of their own would piss
them off, but not this one, not this case.  Silently, unflinchingly, Jinn
stands up, walks around the side of the bed to check the knots in my
binding, and without saying a single word, leaves the room.

Shit.  That went well.

*        *          *

"Master, what are we going to do with her?"

"I don't know, Obi-Wan.  If we let her go she'll go right back to that ledge
and kill Nekaih."

"But I thought we fulfill our destinies as they're laid out for us?"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began slowly, "there's a difference between fate and
pre-destiny.  Fate shows us the path, but we have to walk down it ourselves.
It was her choice to become what she is, so she must take the responsibility
for her actions."

"You know, boys, I don't like it when I'm talked about behind my back."

Jinn turns around and looks at me.  The look on his face tells me I'm still
on his shit list, no surprise there, but he seems a little warmer than when
he left the room before.  "Fine, then answer the question yourself.  What
are we going to do with you?"

I shrug, once again tugging at my restraints.  "Let me go."

"Will you still kill Nekaih?"

"Obviously.  Do you think I don't know how to replace the weapons you took
from me?"

And there goes the warmth from Intrepid Jedi Master's face.  With a sigh
aimed at my general direction, he walks out of the room and leaves me with
the Braid.

A few moments of silence passes before either of us say anything.  He's
looking at me and I'm generally returning the stare, except for the fact
that I'm still tied down and he could, at any moment, jump up and do a
rumba.

I'd pay money to see that, too. Based on all the times that ass has walked
by me, he'd be daaaaamn good at shaking his thang.

"So what's your name?"

I blink.  That's never come up, has it? Oops.  "Darice."

"Darice?  That's a pretty name."

I roll my eyes, but my general dislike of my name seems to fade as it rolls
off Braid's tongue.  So musical, like he's saying the title of a poem or
something.  "Um, yeah, but my friends call me Dare."

"So what do -I- call you?  You don't seem to like your given name… "

"Yeah, mom must have been on some pretty good drugs to come up with that
one.   I guess you're stuck with Darice, unless you want to call me 'the
evil bitch assassin' like I bet that teacher of yours does."

He quirks an eyebrow at me.  "He wouldn't call you that."

"Not to my face."

"I doubt that."  Braid stands up and walks to the side of the bed, sitting
down on the edge.  He's in grasping range of my left hand and he knows it,
but waits to see if I'll make any moves.  When I don't move, he runs a hand
down my leg, testing my reactions carefully.

"Your 'Master' is a tight ass, Ben."

That rises a defensive reaction in him.  Oh well, better than nothing.  "He
is not, he is a highly respected Jedi and knows a lot about the galaxy.  You
could stand to learn a lot from him."

"Oh, really.  And I bet you had to work your ass off to get his attention."

He nods slowly and tugs at the braid laying against his chest.  "Yes.  I was
supposed to be a farmer."

"Farm boy Ben.  Has a nice ring, and the tools, well...."

He gives me a dark look.

Putting on my best smile, I try to smooth the feathers I just ruffled.
"Hey, look at it this way, you got what you wanted, you're here now and you’
re doing a pretty good job at this Jedi business, though my unfortunate role
as your prisoner is a blight to my own personal success.  Jinn would have
dumped you at the first starbase if you weren't any good."

"I'm not sure I find that comforting."

"Probably shouldn't."  Taking care of an itch on my leg by rubbing on the
surface of the bed, I raise an eyebrow as Ben's hand stays on my leg,
shifting up past my knee as I get the calf to stop itching.  He gives me
this look, searching my face for a sign of discomfort, and when finding
none, squeezes his hand experimentally.

"What would you do if I let you go?"

I lean into his touch, encouraging him.  His hands are great-- strong but
not crushing; the mere thought of what they could do on other parts of my
body is enough to give a girl shivers.  When his fingers begin to absently
trace down one of my inner thigh tendons, I lick my lips.  "Do my job."

His hand slips down a little lower.  "You know that would just make us come
back after to you."

Tempting offer.  "I might like that."

Looking around for a moment, no doubt making sure he won't get caught, he
leans down, dropping his face close to mine, his body looming partially over
me.  I can smell him now, a little musky, a little earthy, mildly
intoxicating.  "Darice… "

I shift suddenly, using what little slack I have to push him nearer to me.
Catching a lucky grip, I knock his balance off just enough that he rocks
forward, falling across my chest.  Grinning like a cat that just caught the
mouse, I whisper in his now close-by ear.  "Obi-Wan?"

That sends a shudder through him.  One of his hands finds my arm and trail
down towards my shoulder, the other being braced against the bed to adjust
him… further atop me.  Curiouser and curiouser.  "Don't call me that."

"What?"

"You called me Ben.  I liked that."

I blink, considering the odd request.  Must not like his name, or something
to that order.  Or maybe he doesn't like -me- saying his name.  Whatever.
"Ben."

The hand at my shoulder slips across my collarbone, lingering briefly before
brushing his fingers carefully across my throat.  Watching me with his
oceanic eyes, he waits a few more eternal moments before dropping his weight
on my body, his lips brushing over mine.  They're sweet, his lips, and the
softest caress sends a delightful bolt of white heat through me.

Lunging up slightly, grateful that I don't have to move very much to achieve
my goal, I deepen the kiss, grasping his lower lip between mine, suckling at
it.  He jerks back initially, but presses against me, shoving me back into
the bed, not that I'm objecting at this point.  His hands wrap themselves
around my body and I notice that he moves to a better angle, as in adjusting
himself to lay between my legs.  The kiss is becoming a battle for
dominance, one that at this point I'm still winning, his hand tightening
behind my neck, holding me immobile where I am.

He curls a little, his hips rubbing against mine and I raise an eyebrow.  In
the terms of endowments, even through his overly covering Jedi garb, he's
impressive.  If I didn't have anything better to do…

I buck under him a little, encouraging his excitement.  Rubbing thigh
directly across his sensitive and increasingly hard organ, I'm rewarded with
a roll of hips as he pushes his crotch against mine.  Yanking my head away
in a mild gasp, I manage, "Call me Dare."

One of his hands slips from behind my head to run down my front, fingers
alighting across my breast to trace a few lazy circles around the nipple,
then continues the rest of the way down, running easily past the hem of my
black leggings and directly and undeniably between my legs.

Removes any doubt that he doesn't know what he's doing.

I shift against him, encouraging him on, rewarded as his fingers press into
me, rubbing back and forth over the fabric that rubs directly against my
clit.  Holy shit he knows what he's doing, and I can't help but writhe
underneath him in response.

Sliding his other hand under my tunic, pushing it up past my chest, he
kneads a breast experimentally, feeling my nipple harden under his
ministrations before dropping his mouth down on the taut bud.  Suckling and
tickling it with the tip of his tongue intermittently, I close my eyes and
bite my lip.  I'm too professional to give him the pleasure of screaming,
but the urge is there.

But even though I restrain myself, he can tell that I'm enjoying his
attentions.  Must be that Jedi Force thing.   Lifting his hand from between
my legs, it lands at my waist once more, the fingers wedging themselves
rather insistently under the waistband of my clothes.   Far from stopping
him, I suppress the shudder as his hand runs through my curls and lands
easily, flesh to flesh, on my wet folds.  His fingers begin to trace the
lines of inner and outer labia working their way back and forth over my
clit, edging me slowly higher, his fingertips cruelly brushing but never
lingering near my opening.

"Ben… " I growl, bucking against his hand.

He raises his head to look at me, a half-amused smile on his face.
Carefully watching my reactions, he dips his fingers lower and partially
slips a finger inside me, to which I whimper a little.  Drawing back once
more and pushing in a little farther, he murmurs, "Promise me something."

Dammit, at this point I would promise to wash the outer walls of his
stinkin' Temple just to get him to make me come.  "What?"

"Promise me you won't kill Nekaih and I'll untie you."

I growl at the premise, but like I said before, he's seriously knocked my
will power to jelly.  Blinking at him and then gasping as he briefly rewards
me with a serious thrust of fingers, I close my eyes and stammer an
"Agreed."

I'm rewarded with a triumphant smile shortly before his mouth drops back
down on mine, penetrating my mouth with his tongue as his fingers begin to
pump hard in and out of me, stretching my leggings as he moves.  My eyes
roll back in my head and I gasp into his mouth as the orgasm washes over me,
his fingers slickened by the rush of fluid.

Finally he breaks the kiss and gives me a long look.  I'm, of course,
panting; surely not one of my more civilised appearances.

Then, withdrawing his hand from my leggings and wiping the wetness, but not
before a brief sniff, on his beige pants, he sets to work at my restraints,
first releasing my legs.  Dropping the final swatch of cloth away from my
wrist, Ben leans back over me and kisses me once more.

After which he leaves the room with me untied, the less harmful of my
equipment laying forlorn on the table near the door.

***************



With a bored sigh I make a mental note that Mr. Fruity, or rather, Nekaih,
is very fond of a bizarre form of exercise that involves exercise clothes
that even a blind Neimodian wouldn't wear and the kind of music that makes
most sentient being's ears bleed.

Easing the earpiece out of my ear canal a little and setting down the
binoculars on the ledge, I rub my temples.  Within 24 standard Republic
hours my life has been thrown upside down, and now I have to figure out what
to do with it.

Despite my assassin instincts screaming at me, I can't get the Jedi out of
my head.  Jinn feels like a challenge, like a priest a girl intentionally
screws just to break their vows of chastity.  I've had challenges like that
before, and despite his occasionally effete Jedi standards, I can't seem to
bring myself to cheapening him.  Something behind those eyes just keeps
pulling me back into a state of slightly hormone-induced indecision, the
kind of indecision that ruins careers in one deft stroke.

And then there's the younger one, Ben.  I'm still not sure if I let him do
me to get out of that room or because I wanted him to.  I enjoyed it, that's
for damn sure, and I'd let him do it again, but there's more there, outside
of the obvious.  If his cock is half as good as his finger is, I definitely
want to see, or rather feel him again.

Unfortunately this set of inclinations is what we would call "seriously
detrimental,"  as in if I flaked out on this job after years of loyal
assassinating, I'd be hunted by bad asses that make me look gentle and
nuturing.

Casting a quick glance to the window across the way, making sure Mr. Fruity
is still bouncing his happy little self to a healthier state, I consider my
situation at this very moment. 1) I'm uninjured and able to do the same
stuff I was yesterday.  2) I'm no longer being held captive. 3) I'm in a
better mood and have a huge shit eating grin on my face cause I just had a
hand job from a damned good looking man.

4) I can’t get said good looking man and his equally tempting Master out of
my head.

Dammit, it never ends.

I mean, after a short time around them, I don't seem to mind that Master
title thing, and that used to be a huge pet peeve, right up there with those
stupid nicknames people give each other when they have things like
relationships.

I'm still trying to find out why the term "honey bunny" is romantic.

Checking the time and noting that the dawn should be a few hours away, I
feel both relieved and disappointed that my little Jedi interlopers didn't
come and fetch me again.  I just hafta wonder what Jinn did to his
apprentice after he found out I was gone, and I'd lay dataries to WupiWupi
that he was pissed, but since I'm untouched as of this evening, not pissed
enough to drag my ass back into custody.

Too bad, I would have liked to seen that face again, even if it was darkened
with anger.

I slap myself on the forehead.  Am I really getting that bad?   This is
pathetic, I don't know these blokes for more than a week and I can't get
un-distracted.  Did they mind trick me or something when I was out cold?
Or maybe they cloned me and I'm some re-programmed copy that is meant to
side with Jedi…

The click of Mr. Fruity's window sliding open draws my attention, breaking
the train of thought.  Thank Gods.  I focus on his neon covered frame moving
in front of the window screen, fanning his sweaty self.  Pushing the
earpiece back in I wince as the music once again threatens to pierce my
eardrums.

Political reasons aside, this one deserves to die for bad taste.  Sheesh.

Which brings my promise back down on my shoulders like some descending bird
of prey.  What the fuck was I thinking promising that to him?  Did he really
warp my senses -that- bad?  It was sex, and not even -real- sex and I made
some promise that I knew I couldn't keep.

The worst thing, and this is really bad considering my boss' ear is probably
burning at this point, is that I actually want to keep said promise.  I can’
t even bring myself to break a somewhat unfairly made deal with the kind of
person that I used to consider an enemy!

So this is me playing on a technicality.  I won't kill my buggery target.
However, if I wing him in the right area, he'll bleed to death and the fault
of his expiration will lie in the fact that the medics on Krack Ass are
incompetent and too slow to save critical patients.

Convenient bureaucracy for me, I'd say.

There's a crash below me, and the sound of shattering glass.   Couldn't be
lucky enough to have it be a bomb taking out my target for me with me close
enough to grab some credit.

Mr. Fruity sticks his head out the window.   Shit.  If it weren't for that
stupid promise I'd have a perfect shot.    But I let it go and let the idiot
live for a little longer.

Evil miserable high moraled sexy disruptive goody-two-shoes convincing Jedi.

When I look back at the window, Fruity's no longer at it.  Just perfect.
Six years of hard earned skill down the drain over evil miserable high
moraled sexy disruptive goody-two-shoes convincing fucking JEDI!

And then I freeze.

I'm being watched.   Can't mistake that feeling.  Taking a quick glance
around, ignoring the sub-conscious pondering that it could be my Jedi
interlopers, I unlatch the blaster from my waist and palm it carefully,
slipping a finger over the trigger.

Nothing happens.  Nothing at all, whoever's watching me must have left, or
is just as good as hiding themselves as I am.  I rest my blaster-laden hand
back against my shoulder and wait for something to happen… and end up
crouched like that for half an hour.

It's weird, being watched.  It feels like a trail of ants crawling over your
skin and you can't do shit to knock them off.  Every hair pricks up in wary
alarm, the hackles on the back of your neck standing on end as you
practically hiss through your teeth, waiting for your predator to show him
or herself.

Or in my case, mutter questionable things in Huttese.  Momma taught her girl
proper language, now didn’t she?

By the time I lower my blaster, my fingers are slick with sweat from
clenching the grip too hard.  Great, not only have the Jedi fucked up my
rationale, they've also ruined a perfectly steady trigger hand.  I've held
motion sensitive plasma grenades in this hand and not flinched and now I
can't even keep skin oils from contaminating the power cell.

And it's not even the blaster I came to this shit hole with!

However, much to the credit of the dealer, who was nearly throttled in my
pre-caffinated morning state, this blaster is a bit better, it actually has
the casing held together by screws, rather than the shitty types that use
glue to hold together... and cost the same amount as my Jedi filched glue
casing blaster.

Well, I guess they were good for something.  Got me a better gun.

Through my earpiece I hear this whistling, and based on the following sounds
I'm guessing that he's got a pet in there, probably of the flying kind.  Mr.
Fruity leaves the window, closing it before he leaves, and just when I think
I've got the rest of my evening planned, he walks back to said window and
drops the blind.

Well, I guess I can scope out the local scene.

*            *            *

The local scene was a bust.  I mean, geez, I spend my off duty time on the
dirt hole commonly referred to as Tatooine, and this planet makes Tatooine
seem like a carnival.

So I went back to the flat I rented for my stay here.  Decent place, no
creeping insects walking over my face as I sleep, though the neighbour that
revels in getting high off household cleaners is a bit of a pain.  When he
finds the floor cleaner, as I discovered my first night here on Krack Ass,
he starts seeing things.  Pounded on our common wall for three hours, though
what he was going on about, I have no clue.

Gratefully this night he had only found the furniture polish, or so I guess
by his incessant raving about the quality of his "shiny wood."

Okay, so maybe he's not referring to the polishing of his cabinets, but I'd
really rather not know…

Found out my earpiece doubles as an earplug as I crawled into my bed,
stripping, oddly enough, down to just a pair of rather scant underwear,
tossing my usual tunic onto the floor.  The blankets on the bed are clean,
or at least they were after I stole some of the neighbour's laundry soap,
which is not to forget warm and comforting as I fell wonderfully and
comfortably asleep.

Well, until the pounding on my door started.  Even through the
earpiece/earplug, the grating sound roused me from a very good, and may I
say erotic, dream.

But not enough to pull me from my bed.  Fuck them, I want a full night of
uninterrupted sleep.

I closed the blinds to hide the evil blinding sunrise from my eyes.  I know
I did, I recall pulling the dinky little string and dropping the blinds over
the pane with a satisfied smile.

However when the sunbeams began blazing a hole through my eyelids,
apparently trying to blind me with that irritating bright light, I realised
that my blinds were open.

"What the fuck?!"

"If you shout you may wake your neighbour, who I might add, finally passed
out for the day."

Falling to the floor in a desperate grasp for my blaster, I discover that
it's gone.  Great.  Opening my eyes I give my visitors an unhappy look.
"Good morning boys.  Is stalking a course requirement in Jedi training?"

Apparently I've failed to realise that I'm not entirely dressed, unlike
them.  Ben's eyes wander down me, and his eyebrow piques up a little as he
takes a longer look at my exposed breasts. At least I know what he's
thinking about.

Looking up at the face of the looming Master Jinn, I can't help but grin as
I catch him briefly shift his weight, his arms suddenly drawn up into his
sleeves.  Has the sight of an undressed woman made him uncomfortable?  Has
the intrepid Jedi been discovered for his weakness?

Crossing my arms over my bare chest, intentionally -under- the body parts
earning all the attention, I try again.  "So what brings you boys here this
morning?  Don't you have some serving and protecting to do?"

Ben coughs, finding his voice again.  "I wanted to check up on you."

That's not good enough.  I want to hear from the tall one.  "What about you,
Jinn?"

His gaze finally raises up from his circumspection of me.  Locking blue eyes
on my brown, he waits a long moment before slowly saying, "I understand you
made a promise to Obi-Wan."

I blink.  Wonder how much he was told about that promise…  "I did, and no I
haven't broken it."

"You thought about it."

I stand up to say something a tad closer to his face, tripping in the
blanket that has tangled in my legs.  Pitching forward at an alarming rate,
I'm surprised as a set of large hands suddenly sweep out to grab me, holding
me upright in a somewhat less graceful state.

Looking up, I'm surprised to see my face a few centimetres away from the
fabric clad chest of Qui-Gon Jinn.  His lower arms hooked under my
shoulders, his hands bracing my ribcage, I wait for further reaction.

"Are you alright?"

Okay, that wasn't the reaction I was expecting.   "Uuuuum, fine.  Thanks for
catching me."

It must be five minutes before anyone says anything.  Still hooked in Jinn's
arms, finding the closeness to his huge, strong body both intimidating and
incredibly erotic, I lick my lips and clear my throat.  "Ah, Jinn, when
you're holding a girl in my current state of, ah, undress, it typically
involves increasing blood flow to certain parts rather than cutting it off."

There's a glimmer behind those blue eyes; I almost miss it.  Sighing, he
lifts me to my feet, waiting until he feels my weight ease off his arms and
onto my legs to remove his hands.   Watching him take a single step back, I
look down to once more realise I'm only wearing the flimsy thong I
laughingly call underwear and feel a sudden wash of propriety.  Glancing
around the flat, I spot my clothes from last night easily enough, but can't
seem to find the knee length tunic.

Apparently Jinn notices this before Ben.  Without a single word he strips
his dark brown robe off and slips it on my shoulders, immediately burying me
in the fabric.  Damn, but he is a fucking huge man.  Threading my arms
through the sleeves, the residue warmth of his body heat matching nicely
with his smell, I raise an eyebrow as the tips of my fingers miss the hem of
the sleeves by six inches.  Trying to resettle the shoulders, which droop
over my biceps, I say a quiet "thanks" in Jinn's direction and give Ben a
quizzical look.

He shrugs back at me.  He's surprised, too.

With a step to the side, for which I nearly fall over -again- because of the
bottom hem pooling at my feet, I point at the place I set the blaster down
the night before.

Ben points deferentially to the owner of the robe now draped over me.  I
roll my eyes and extend my hand out towards him.  "If you don't mind."

He's studying me again.  I really should be objecting to this, I mean, he's
staring at me.  No one used to stare at me like this and live.

I tap my foot, not that he can see it.  "May I have my blaster back?"

Ben gives me a warning look, like I'm treading on a thin line.  Shrugging in
his direction, I stand my ground.  Jinn's no fool.

Finally, with a few long strides, Jinn steps around me to sit down on the
bed, pulling the compact piece of weaponry from his belt.  Feeling it over
with his fingers, he examines it closely.  "This is a good blaster.  Where'd
you get it?"

I blink at him, genuinely stupefied.  "Well, you did take the one I came
here with."

He continues to turn the piece in his hands, checking the power cell.  "You
haven't fired it yet," he says simply.

Alright, that does it.  This is going too far.  "I've been as hospitable as
I can, but now all I want you to do is hand me my damned weapon and leave."

The boys exchange glances.  I can tell they're exchanging thoughts or
whatever Jedi do with that Force of theirs.  Ben steps up behind me, a
little perplexed when he sets a hand on my shoulder, the fabric of his
Master's robe rubbing against his palm.  I can feel something, you know,
like a tingling and I'm left wondering if he's trying to whammy me into
obedience.  I wait a few minutes, paying close attention to the feeling,
waiting with genuine interest to see if anything will happen.

Ironically enough, nothing does.  Guess that's a good reaction, considering
if it had worked, I probably would have woke up in a Republic prison.
Touching Ben's hand briefly before stepping free of his range, I walk over
to the bed, extend a bold hand and wrap fingers around the butt of the
blaster, pulling it out of the huge male hands.  Jinn just looks at me and
lets me pull the weapon free of his grip.

Go figure.

Checking the settings and throwing the blaster onto the bed behind Jinn, I
look towards the door and then at him.

When he stands, I find myself craning my neck to see his bearded face.
Checking myself that I don’t make a further ass of myself, I surreptitiously
strip off his robe, hand it to him and stand there boldly in the sunlight,
more or less nude again.

Ben steps slowly towards the door, looking at me desperately, as if he wants
to say something but feels he can't in the presence of Jinn.  I shouldn't be
surprised.  Whatever methods the Jedi use to train their kind, they instill
a respect of authority to a degree that does them more harm than good,
especially in my experience.

Giving me a final look, the barest hint of a smile on his face, Jinn leans
down to me, whispering "We'll talk," before stepping beyond me, past the
door and down the hallway.  Ben follows, shuffling his feet, his blue-green
eyes seeking some kind of reaction from me.

Quickly mouthing a "you'll have your chance," I shoo him out the door,
closing it as soon he steps beyond the threshold.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I slam my back against the closed door,
sliding down the smooth surface to sit on the floor.  Idly fingering the
blaster in my hand, I roll my eyes.

It just keeps getting better and better.


************


"Is this seat taken?"

"Fuck off."

If one more guy comes up and propositions me I'm going to break out a pair
of pinking shears and give them a reason to sing soprano.

I know I picked a club with more shadows than lights, but there's a line.
It pisses me off when they think they can come up and automatically gain my
favour just by trying to be friendly.   I don't need friends.  I have my
blaster, my boss and my reputation as a heartless yet effective hired
killer.

Oh, and I have the Jedi.  How could I forget?

They largely explain why I'm in this club in the first place.  After my
early morning visit I didn't want to sit on that ledge all night, I wanted
to forget about them, which would explain why I'm currently on my third shot
of Screaming Bantha.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that it's raining?  Pouring in sheets.  By
now that little ledge is as slick as a frozen pond, and I really don't want
to fall… again.

Staring at the little glass on the table in front of me, I poke at it with a
finger.  I'm a little buzzed, pleasantly so, but I still have control of
myself.

Well, okay, not -complete- control, but enough to keep myself out of
trouble.

From the side, a really shadowed side that I probably should have avoided in
retrospect, comes a dark figure.  Without a word he sits down in the chair
nearest me and sets a shot glass filled to the brim in front of me.

I raise my eyes to settle on the stranger and resist the urge to pound my
head on the table.

"Damn it all, Jinn, I can't get rid of you!"

He smiles cryptically.  "I know."

Grasping the glass, sniffing the fluid and immediately downing it, I wince
as the alcohol burns down my throat, surprised at the hardness of the
liquor.  "Nice choice, Jinn, anyone else and this would leave them without
an esophagus."

The smile doesn’t budge.  "That's what the bartender said."

Leaning back in the chair, rocking the back against the wall behind me, I
kick my booted feet on to the table, crossing them at the ankles.  "So what
dubious pleasure," I pause at the word, trying to elicit a reaction, "do I
have in entertaining you at this particularly seedy and dank establishment?"

Leaning forward out of the shadow, I catch a fuller glimpse of him.  Holy
shit.  He's not wearing his Jedi robes.

He's in solid fucking gorgeous black.

Mentally reminding myself that my jaw dropping on the table would not be a
good thing, I cross my arms and let the shit eating grin curl my face.
"Well I'll be damned.  If you aren't the shadow of what you were this
morning, Jinn."

He scoots the chair a little closer, pushing himself into a little less
darkness, the feathery tendrils of diffused light bathing across his face,
and this time I can't help my reaction, given my taste in men.  If it could,
my jaw would hit the wood surface with a resounding thud.

The smile on his face, still partially obscured by that beard, is framed in
hair.  Thick and wavy, no longer pulled back in a ponytail, it's resting
around his face like a mane, the ends tickling just past his shoulders.  The
air of calm presentation is gone from him, the change of his coif creating
the visage of the kind of man you only hope to meet in your most private
dreams.

Down, girl.

"Obi-Wan says your name is Darice."

I nod, letting his voice wash over me for the first time.  Accented, but not
heavily enough to spray spittle all over the table; it's musical, but he's
no opera singer.  However, give him a Corellian dictionary and make him read
from it and I'll be a grinning idiot.  "Yeah."

"Actually, he originally called you Dare."

Hmm, maybe he has heard the full tale of that promise…  "I've never been one
for formality."

"So I noticed."

"So, what did Ben tell you about that promise he made me make?"  Short,
sweet and to the point.

There's a pause and a single eyebrow arcs, his sharp eyes staring at me.
Finally, he evenly says "He didn't have to."

Oooh, reaaally.  I rock forward, dropping the chair legs back on the floor
and lean over the table, sliding my feet back under the table, smacking a
steel tipped boot toe into his softer booted one.  "And you're not upset?"

His eyes drift languidly down my neck to trace the low hems of my top.  It's
one of those halter top things that cling tighter to your skin than a leech
to a wound, and yet still, magically, support you; it goes without saying
that I'm showing a little cleavage.  "I probably should be, but you seem to
be keeping to the promise."

Nice surprise on my part, though I suppose if he was here to throttle me, he
wouldn't have worn good black clothes.  "So what are you going to do about
it?"

The urge to go once more into the details of why I keep doing my job aside,
I hold up the shot glass and wave the bartender down.  "Two more, and if you
value you life, stop watering it down.  Well, Jinn, as much as I'd like to
make you and Ben happy and not kill Mr. Fruity, I do have far more imposing
people to answer to."

"What if I could free you from that burden?"

"What, by constructing a planet destroyer and aiming it at the rock I
unwillingly call a home?  Not sure it would work, Jinn, it goes a little
deeper than that."

"You're as much a slave as that little girl you watched get beaten."

Whoah.  Time out.  I haven't told him -anything- about that.   Neither of
them, in fact, and it's not like there's a file on me in some public
archive.  I lower my voice and hiss, "How the hell do you know about that?"

"Despite your low opinion of us," he begins, setting his large hands on the
table, "there are some things the Jedi are very good at.  Your ire over
slavery is as potent as that tongue of yours."

I know it's harsh to bring that up again, but he got personal on me.  "Then
why didn't you know about that kid of a Jedi?"

The hands turn palm up, calluses only slightly visible in the current light.
With a sigh he manages, "Firstly, you bury that very deeply in your
conscious.  Secondly, that's not exactly something I would want to sense."

I take a moment to stare down at an empty shot glass.  "Being there was
worse."

"Of that I have no doubt."

The bartender walks up to the table, laying down the shot glasses and giving
me a cryptic stare.  He's watched me turn away at least three losers
tonight, and here I am getting morbid and progressively intoxicated with a
large, imposing and older man.

Who is also clad in solid, fucking gorgeous black.  Hmm, I may have
mentioned that already, but it's one of those things that warrants
reiteration.

Bartender walks away from the table and I take the opportunity to stand up,
picking up my chair and scoot a little closer to Jinn.  Pushing one of the
glasses in front of him I point at it.  "It's not poison."

He looks at me in my closer position and then at the glass.  Obviously
trying to deduct my plans, he wraps fingers around the glass and picks it
up, bringing it to his lips.  His reaction is almost exactly like mine was
when he handed me the first drink in the other bar, and I snicker at it.

"So did you like feeling what Ben did to me through that weird Jedi link you
two have?"

Halfway to downing the liquid, he chokes, nearly spraying me with amber
fluid.  How's that for startling him?

"Well?"

Swallowing what remains in his mouth and firmly setting the glass down he
yanks his head around to stare at me.  Wow, he -really- wasn't expecting
that.

"Oh, come on, you enjoyed it.  Okay, maybe not completely, but I would
suspect that would be because you weren't there to participate."

I am soo being stared at.  I don't think I'm actually shocking and/or
offending him, but I think I threw him for a huge fucking loop, somewhat
literally in this case.

"Or is it that you don't like girls?  Oh, come on, Jinn, I caught you
looking at me this morning; sure, maybe you weren't envisioning my nipples
coated in chocolate like your Braid was, but nevertheless… "

"I am not a—" he starts to say.

I grin.  Pinned him good.  "Prove it."

The stare is re-leveled at me.  Talk about getting a full look at his eyes.
"If I admitted some interest would that placate you?"

I lean even further forward, letting my halter top buckle slightly from
gravity.  "No."

"I thought," he begins to say, keeping his voice low, "that although
unusual, Obi-Wan did a very good job convincing you to not kill Nekaih."

"How good a job?"

There's a pause, and the smile returns.  Good, the inhibition is fading
again.  "I can do better."

Quick re-count of girlhood fantasies that still torture me.  Bright pink
plastic house, fantasy car and plastic blonde haired anatomically incorrect
male doll.  Back seat of the car, sand grunge rock music and overly tattooed
and pierced rebel.  Beer, dark alley, tall stranger.

Somehow I never pictured a Jedi fitting into my demented sense of romance…
the third, in case you're wondering.

So once again I live up to my nickname.  "Prove it."

One hand lifts off the table, slipping down to his lap.  Or at least I think
it's going to his lap.  His eyes wander languidly over me, noting details,
apparently making sure he can remember what I look like despite his rather
full view this morning.

The chair creaks under his weight as he pushes it away from the table,
standing up at his full height.  I feel like a sodding dwarf sitting down
next to him, my head only high enough to touch his thigh, a rather muscular
thing as I quickly notice.

Jinn looks down at me, waiting.    His hand is extended out, looming in
front of me in invitation.

Colour me clueless for missing the chivalrous behaviour.  I guess I missed
that lesson in finishing school… well, if I had gone to finishing school…
not that Tatooine excels in finishing schools…

"Darice?"

Why is it when he says my name I don't hate the sound?  "Yes?"

"Don't you want to go?"

Balance restored.  "Oh fuck yeah.  There's an alley behind the club, how are
you for dark and dirty?"

There's a glance cast down his own person, quickly taking in his less formal
appearance before giving an impartial shrug.  "Not that I've done anything
like that before, but I'll follow your lead."

I laugh at him, finally standing up.  "Oh, I find that hard to believe."

"Do I really strike you as the scum loving type?"

Walking past him with a wicked swing in my hips, I poke a finger at his
chest.  "Things change, Jinn."

His eyes widen a bit.  "Not everything."

"You’d be surprised, Jinn, you’d be surprised."


************


Ever had a plot just suddenly up and twist on you when reading a story?
Yeah, well, in the story of my own life, a rather bizarre novella of things
you should never tell your parents about, I'm used to twists.

Okay, -most- twists.

The twist that occurred after the back door of that club was slammed shut
was the exception to the rule.

I'm leaning against the wall, running a hand over Jinn's chest, enjoying the
permission to touch this up until now stoic Jedi, when the shriek of a...
well I guessed a woman reached us.  Jinn freezes, looks towards the
direction of the scream and looks like he's about to bolt and act like a
bloody hero.

My comment, being the person who is normally the reason of the scream,
starts off with "Probably some junkie finding out his crystals are made of
sh—"

I'm cut off as his hand is covering my mouth, a not entirely unpleasant
experience in itself, but annoying nevertheless.  Rolling my eyes, I lick
his palm, drawing his attention back to me.

Jinn shoots me an incredulous stare.  "Do you need something?"

"Yes.  Stop acting like a fucking hero."

He deadpans back at me "That's -my- job."

Well, okay.  So he has a point.   Drawing my blaster from its holster, I tip
my head in the direction of the scream.  "Well, Jinn, if you're bound and
determined to go save some poor sap, I'm not gonna let you get killed."

By this time that lightsabre of his is in his hand, though where it was
tucked away originally I have no clue.  He shifts it from hand to hand for a
few moments.  "For an assassin, you seem to care a lot."

"And for a Jedi, you sure walk the line between light and dark."

There's a quick nod as he sweeps by me, stalking down the alley.  Jogging up
behind him, his long strides forcing me to move a little faster than I
prefer when barreling into unknown situations, I catch a half-muttered
"You're probably right."

The end of the alley ends sharply, a single, filthy dumpster edging the
corner in an exceptional amount of grime.  Biting my lip, ignoring the
stench, I slam my back against the wall and quickly reach down into a boot,
withdrawing a dagger and palming it in a hand.

Jinn stares openly.  "Isn't that a tad brutish?"

"Isn't that light stick of yours a tad obvious?"

We both stop, falling short of the edge of the dumpster.  The blue eyes are
glancing around, pondering what I've just said, and in a huge shock to me,
he brandishes the 'sabre a little less prominently, tucking it, unlit, up
against his arm.

There's a moment where I'm caught in awe, and not just that piddly stuff
reserved for tourist traps, but real awe.  Despite my station, age,
experience, attitude and line of work in comparison to his, he -listened- to
me.

That doesn't happen every day.

"Come on Master Jedi, let's go rescue your pathetic creature."

The screamer turns out to be a woman, score one for me, and is cowering
rather ineffectually in a corner on the other side of the dumpster.  The way
she's shaking, it's an easy guess that she fended off an attacker, probably
some dumb bastard hell bent on an unwilling shag.

Jinn steps forward, but I slam an arm out in front of his path, blocking
him.  When I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, a reprimand
on his lips, I partially turn my head and mutter, "Scare her to death and
you'll answer to me."

He doesn't do anything else, just stands there where I stopped him.
Kneeling down to the woman, noting with professional interest the cut on the
side of her neck, I do my best compassionate voice.  "Are you alright?"

She nods, bobbing her head on an unsteady neck.  "He went that way," she
points towards the open street.

Figures.  The chickenshit rapists always run when they can't break you.
"Can you stand?"

She nods again, a little more steadily this time.  With half-assed
assistance I help her to her feet and then step back to stand near Jinn,
trying to get a feel for him.

The woman looks at me, and then at Jinn, initially taking a frightened step
back into the dumpster, but pauses, the look in his eyes apparently gentle
enough to soothe her fears about his motives.

"This one's too much of a puppy to hurt you, lady," I offer. I know, being
helpful again, but I also -hate- simpering.  People who are scared of the
dark shouldn't go out at night.

She nods and walks unsteadily back towards the back door of the club,
probably to grab a comm and a stiff drink.  We're both watching her as she
goes, waiting until she moves beyond our vision to speak again.

"That was very noble of you."

I kick a boot against the dirt.  Figured he'd rub it in.  "I may be a
killer, but I'm not heartless."

His voice is soft again.  "Yes, I've noticed.  You're wasting your natural
talent."

"And you're wasting your breath." Turning on a heel, I stalk back to the
club's door, flustered.  This isn't what I came out here for, dammit.

I am not a nice person.  My goal is not to save the galaxy. I don't give a
shit about the galaxy.  I don't give a damn about the common good.  The only
thing I trust is myself.

Is it just me, or does that sound hollow?

By the time I get just inside the club, drenched in yellow tinged shadows,
I'm suddenly pushed against a cool wall.  After the incident in the alley
I'm quick to move a hand for my boot and my just re-sheathed knife, but a
large hand pins my own at my waist.  I freeze.  No normal person is that
fast.

Sliding in to lean slightly against me, the warmth of his body easily felt
through fabric, I roll my eyes at the inviting smile of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"One track mind?"

"Not precisely."

Next thing I know his hands are sliding down my hips and onto my legs,
pulling me closer against him as his face drops to my neck, tenderly
touching it with his lips before placing suckling kisses across my throat.
I can't help but bloody whimper, my neck has always been one of my weak
spots and he's doing a fine job of proving it.  "Jinn… "

Murmuring against my neck, the vibration of air surprisingly pleasant, his
response is "This is what you want, no?"

I actually hesitate.  Dammit, this isn't right!  There's something wrong
with this picture, I shouldn't be giving in to him like some naïve school
girl!

Do you want him?  Yes.

Can you trust him?  I haven't been given reason not to.

Is he a threat?  Not of my life.

Then where's the problem?  Nowhere.

Dammit.

Trying my best to act like my normal self (which has apparently departed on
the most recent hormone shuttle), I give up, using my hands to pull his face
up so I can look at him and gauge the initial reaction.  "Yes."

The reaction is a smile, warm and comforting, the kind you'd hope to get
when willingly giving up your well-guarded caution.  Backing me against the
wall, my spine now aligned to the smooth surface, the fingers hook at the
base of my knee high leather skirt, pushing it up to my hips.   The fingers
course back down my hips and trail around my thighs, pausing momentarily at
the garter that holds one of my knives, but only for a moment.  With purpose
they slide against my inner thigh, lingering cruelly close to my sex.  "So
what are you doing Ji-- ?!"

He stops me talking with a kiss.  What a way to interrupt a train of
thought.  Jamming my head against the wall, trying to part my mouth but
having no luck as I fight back a little, he nips my lower lip.  "No
questions now.  We'll talk later."

Breathe, Dare.  "Uh-huh… well I guess if you want to play that way… "

I've never been coy, and the term "repressed" can't be applied to me without
sending anyone that knows me into spasms of laughter.  My hands, settled
loosely around his head, tighten, the fingers wrapping into the mane of
thick hair.  Yanking his head to me as I brace against the wall, I teach him
what it means to kiss someone.  Full on: tongue, lower lip and one of my
favourites, nipping.  He reacts well to it, getting into the game, trying to
possess my mouth in the process and actually, partially, succeeding.

The fingers on my thigh slide up the rest of the way, rubbing against the
surface of my panties, and when they easily push aside the thin shift of
fabric and directly come in contact with my flesh, I arch up, my fingers
asserting a death grip on his scalp.

If he doesn't kill me first, I have a feeling I'll be stuck with untangling
duty.

The ministrations of his fingers don't last long.  Whatever sexual chemistry
that led up to this over-glorified bang against the wall has made this
session anything but gentle, and I realise that.  Pulled away, successfully
damp with my moisture, I can feel him attend to himself and with a
convenient shift of fabric and an unceremonious hoist of my body a little
further up the wall, he's inside me with a single thrust.

How do I put this… oh, yeah, that'll work: WOW.

I've had my share of men, some human, some less than human, or more so in
one case.  But there's something different about Jinn… maybe because I'm not
doing it to use him… not really sure...

I'm practically gasping into his mouth as he's thrusting upwards, each set
of motions jarring me hard.  My fingernails are actually dug into his scalp
now, their sharp points probably well on their way to doing some damage.
Drawing a leg up and hooking it at his waist, my other leg dangling above
the floor, I have to close my eyes as the re-positioning buries him further
in, my inner walls nearly screaming at the girth of this man, a shout of
agonised pleasure threatening to tear from my throat.

But it doesn't last long.  Based on my judgment I'd guess that it's been a
while for this hunk of a man, and the presence of a more aggressive woman,
IE me, has managed to drive his male self crazy.  Something resembling a
growl rises from his throat as that final thrust makes him come; I let him
ride it out, finally letting the kiss break, finding part of his neck,
suckling, nipping and then biting down, savouring the salty taste of his
skin.

He doesn't even flinch.

Shifting me off of him and setting me on the floor, my legs understandably a
little shaky, I writhe against the wall like a cat that’s just found catnip.
Watching him re-adjust and smooth the sleek black tunic, I purr, "Well,
well, well, Jinn.  You were right.  You can do better."

He arches an eyebrow at me, this time clearly amused.  Returning the favour
as he watches me pull my skirt back down to where the hem is supposed to
lay, I lick my lips and wait for him to do something.

Setting a hand around my waist, avoiding the butt of the blaster, he begins
to guide me out the front door of the club, and back to the place I had
escaped from not a day before.


*******************


"So where'd you get this one?"

I slap the hand away from my ribcage, knocking the finger off the lines of
jagged white scar tissue.  "Guard dog.  Well, okay, guard -thing.-  Most
dogs don't have ten toes on each paw and fur the texture of a bed of nails."

"Doesn't explain the scar."

"I forgot the teeth, huh?  Long, sharp and eager to please.  Their teeth are
always re-growing and replacing, as I found out after knocking one of those
things clean of his chompers and still getting bitten.  If I didn't know
better, I'd say they get sharper with each new set."

"That still doesn't explain the scar."

Rolling my eyes and thunking my head intentionally his chest, I finally
explain.  Gotta give him credit for being persistent.  "Middle of the night,
was climbing over an exceptionally tall wall when I spotted the guest house.
No lights, no vehicles in front of it, figured it was a good starting point
for setting up my range.  Score one for the target, however, for having
guard… things roaming the property at night, and using ones that don't bark
at the slightest provocation.  Took three steps once landing on the ground.
Three!  Next thing I know I'm being knocked to the ground by this huge ugly
thing, being bitten and scratched it wherever it could get to me.  The claws
just struck the surface, but it got a hold of me with its teeth and shook
where the scar is.  Bled everywhere, ripped my clothes, ruined some
equipment."

"What happened to the creature?"

Oh please tell me he's not an animal rights type of person, that'll just
ruin a perfectly good morning after.  "I had to kill it… the stupid thing
was trying to rip my insides out!  Besides the fact that if it had run back
to its owner with parts of me in its mouth and such, I woulda been screwed,
and not in the good way."

The warm body beneath me shifts a little, and I can't help but grin when I
feel something resettled against the small of my back.  Latching firmly to
the edge of the blanket, preventing him from pulling it any higher than my
waist, I stretch my arms slowly, recounting the last few hours.

After taking me back to the little place the Jedi took as shelter, which is
ironically smaller than the rathole I'm using, Jinn is asking questions
again. Not as bad before, less like an interrogator and more like a curious
interloper.

The questions didn't last long though.  Noting that Ben wasn't there, which
I do admit a little disappointment over, I found the dark room, large, soft
bed and stallion of a man with me too much to ignore.  The first time it
took some convincing, like the club was just a fluke, but after stripping
the clothes and weapons from my body and showing him how I -should- have
been tied down, he couldn't help but play along…

Three times.

Yep, I'm a happy girl.  I'll walk funny once I try to get out of this bed,
but who the fuck cares?

"What are you thinking?"  He's leaning his head down next to mine,
whispering in my ear.  Apparently my train of thought wandered a bit too far
into the more rigorous events of last night, and he knows it.  There's gotta
be a way to better shield myself…

"Oh, nothing," I tease, snaking a hand up and yanking his head the rest of
the way over, pulling his bearded lip onto mine for a rough kiss. I break it
off with a slight fit of laughter.  "You know, Jinn, if I had told you you'd
be waking up with me in your lap yesterday, you would have wrote me off for
looney.   And yet here you are, bringing new meaning to the term 'body
pillow.'"

The hand that was touching my ribcage slides around my waist, laying his two
hands together just above my belly button.  A finger tickles across the
pierced ring, moving it a little as the fingertip traces the patterns of
black tattoo that encircle my navel.  I like my body, ya know, but there are
some things that just bring more character to a person.  Well, and the
tattoo was after my first successful job, one of those kind of marks to
commemorate an event.  The piercing was a gift from a prince I seduced in
order to get into his palace; that was actually a pleasant job.

His hands seem listless; they start to work downwards, alighting across
carefully trimmed curls.  I snicker.  "So tell me something, is it standard
practice to be a stoic asshole at first meeting and then turn into a
gorgeous playboy?"

He doesn't answer me at first, but the hand continues to dip lower, sliding
underneath the thin blanket.

This is the same guy that insisted I be tied down to the bed so I wouldn't
escape and or hurt them, right?  Hmm… maybe they replaced him with a clone
too, ya know, one that has more tolerance for my type...

"Jedi have no standard practice," he says simply.  His hand slides down
through my folds.  This is scary.  Even the lightest touch from this one and
I'm already wet.  Sad, sad, sad… the fall of the modern assassin.

Settling against his hand, inviting him to play down there, I study his
other hand.  Big and strong, these hands could crush someone's neck, and in
any other occupation, probably would have already.  The fingers are long and
thick, but not soft and cultured like some prissy Senator's hands.  He
actually uses his hands… and based on the fact that he's got me writhing
against his occupied hand, my head thrown back against his chest as a finger
slips easily inside me, I don't think that fact needs much further
validation.

In the space of minutes he pushes me to the edge and there I'm sitting,
biting my tongue, when he stops.

He stops!   Aaargh, I don't care what he did to me last night, if he stops
here and now I'll turn around and make him a eunuch!

The other hand, the one I was studying, points at the door, but quite
frankly I couldn't care.  Extending a hand up to wrap around Jinn's neck,
pulling his head down closer to my ear, I grate out, "By the Gods, Jinn, if
you value your life, you'll not do this to me with my weapons so close to
the bed.  Are you trying to piss me o—"

In a move of bloody boldness, his free hand clamps over my mouth, stopping
me from speaking.  I stop this time, not bothering to fight, and when I
don't lick his palm as he seemed to be expecting, he releases his grip.

I'm about to demand, once more, that he finish what he started when Ben
walks in the room… and freezes where he stands.

Now keep in mind when two people spend an entire night together fucking each
other senseless they tend to forget that whole decency thing.  Being of
entirely un-moraled principle, however, it doesn't bother me in the
slightest being entirely nude and only partially covered in mixed company.

However, in the case of Ben and Jinn…

"Master, I— I, I'll be outside, I'm very sorry, um, if you'll excuse me, I—"

I -almost- feel sorry for Ben.  I don’t think he was expecting to walk in on
anything like this, and I have to wonder if these two boys ever had to lay
out the roomie rules… sock on the knob for "knock first," underwear on the
knob for "don't knock even if the roof is falling in."

Well, maybe they don't do that in that Temple of theirs.

Their loss.

Ben's standing there, entirely off guard.  Watching his eyes shift
uncomfortably from me to Jinn and back to me again, I try not to laugh.
This is pathetic.  You'd think I've been caught in the queen's chambers
wearing the king's crown... and nothing else.

Leaning forward, I latch a hand around Ben's braid and pull.  He pitches
forward with all the grace of a falling brick, steadying himself just inches
away from my face.  Taking the advantage, a wicked grin curling my face, I
close the distance between our two mouths and pull him into a very deep,
very long and very scandalous kiss.

I'm not sure who gasped, but I heard it.  Loud and clear it hits my ears,
but rather than stopping me, it just makes me bolder.  At this point Ben is
forced to kneel on the bed lest I accidentally rip that thin little braid
out, his inhibition seeming to fade as he begins to return the embrace, only
freezing when he opens his eyes and realises who I've been and obviously
still am with.

His eyes fly open and seem a little shocked.  Backing quickly away,
nervously straightening the hems of his outer robe, he stands stock still,
saying nary a word.

"Good morning, Ben.  I told you we'd have a chance to talk."

I'm really trying not to laugh, but dammit I want to.  I'm enjoying this.
Two men, one room, some free time and the opportunity to shatter some of
that overblown Jedi stoicism.  Who wouldn't enjoy this?

Jinn's hand is still laying between my legs, it's actual location visually
obscured to his Braid, but there's really not a lot of doubt going on here.
You'd have to be suffering level 4 nasal congestion to not smell the sex,
and as Ben proved the other night, he's no shrinking violet.

Jinn shifts under me, sitting up a little and I can't help but raise my
eyebrow as his no longer flaccid member rubs along my back.  Hmm… something
to remember.  "Obi-Wan?"

Ben's head jerks up sharply.  "Um, yes, Master?"

Oh, great, now they've not only made me tolerant of the term, but now I have
all these kinky ideas running through my head…

"Did you find the minister?"

I blink.  They're talking business?  Here? Now?

Ben nods, finding the ceiling particularly fascinating.  "Yes.  He says that
Nekaih's faction was behind the attack yesterday."

Shit, and now I'm thinking that way.  "What?"

Two pairs of eyes turn on me and stare.  I shrug.  They expect me to be able
to forget why I'm actually here?

"That means we have to move soon, Obi-Wan.  We'll go to Coria's headquarters
today and see what they know, and go from there.  Darice?"

Once again I blink.  Somehow I creeped into this conversation…  "Yeah?"

"Weren't you hired by Mefret's faction?"

Well, I guess they would know if I was hired by the same yahoos who called
them in, and the chance of Nekaih's faction conspiring to kill him is just
stupid when they have bigger fish to fry. "Something like that."

Difficult to the last.

"I want you to go back to your contact here and tell them you've hit a snag,
get some more information out of them.  Has your ledge watching given you
any information?"

About to open my mouth, I stop.  What the fuck am I doing?  I'm about to
spill the beans on a target to the JEDI!  "Okay, wait a minute.  Just a
bloody second here."  Without a hesitation I jump out of the bed, stalking
over to the corner to grab something to wear.  Hey, its cold, do you expect
me to freeze?  "Since when am I working for you?  I have a contract,
something which I seriously need to attend to, and since partnering up with
the stick-assed justicars of the galaxy was not in the fine print, I'm not
gonna get caught by my boss helping you."

I raise my eyes to find Ben's gaze firmly locked on mine.  It's one of those
stares your pet gives you right before you leave for vacation, after they
watch you pack your suitcase and set their food in a weird place.  I catch
myself waffling, finding the simple and easy solution of walking out the
door and not looking back no longer acceptable.

If nothing else, they know how to find me now.

Sliding on the leather skirt and pulling the zipper up, I roll my eyes,
cursing to myself.  This could be a seriously stupid move on my behalf.
"Fine, but it's your collective asses if my boss finds you, and unlike you,
I have no wish for a fucked up hero's death.  I'll do what I can, but you
owe me big time."

Jinn's expression is serious.  A little too serious for my taste.  "Yes, we
do.  Be careful."

I shrug it off.  Never was one for this morbid "we love you, honey, please
don't wind up dead in a ditch" bullshit.  Slipping the boot the rest of the
way up my calf and adjusting the toe, I walk by Ben, run a hand across his
smooth cheek, moving to suckle his lower lip briefly.  Then, and without
pause I might add, a few steps later I'm placing a booted leg onto the bed
between Jinn's legs, leaning down, catching him in the same embrace, except
this time my hand snakes down under the covers to run fingers languidly over
his shaft, savouring the growl I get in response.

Finally making it out the door, I make it only partially down the hall
before I begin to laugh.

*          *            *

"Mefret, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

The faction leader gives me a dubious look.  This guy brings new meaning to
the term "asshole," and I'm looking forward to getting him off my back.  I'd
kill him for free if I didn't already have a paid target. "You haven't
contacted me in two days and Nekaih is still alive.  If you can't do the job
you shouldn't have taken the contract."

Oh, this is a recipe to piss me off.  "Listen, shithead, the first rule of
hiring an assassin is to -not- ask questions.  If you want that girly snob
dead you're gonna let me do it my way or I'll walk away now."

He pauses.  I've got him by the balls and he knows it.  He -begged- my boss
to get me on Krack Ass in the first place, and that 10,000 dataries,
according to a few local snitches, is way out of his budget.

Desperate men do desperate things.  People like me count on that
desperation.

"So tell me, Mefret.  What's so important that you have to try and
intimidate the person who killed Rikth Caltelk?"

His eyes widen a bit.  It's a legitimate threat I've leveled at him, and I
don't flinch.  According to the Corellian media, Rikth Caltelk, a rather
nefarious arms dealer, was hung from the larger of two staircases in his
flat.  The truth, and Mefret knows it, is that Rikth was hung from the
staircase… by the larger of his intestines.

I hated that job.

"I'll give you 15,000 to kill Nekaih, but only if you can do it before the
Committee hearing.  He cannot attend or we're doomed."

I cross my arms, stuck between a rock and a hard place.  I think it's time
for some answers, and despite the warning beacons going off in my head about
asking them, I ask anyways.

"Why are you so damned determined to see that guy dead?"

Mefret's voice softens.  "His faction is developing a weapon, and according
to some off-planet friends, intends to sell it to the highest bidder, but
not before testing it out on the other two factions."

Well, shit.  This would explain why Coria connived the Jedi into the middle
of this mess. "It's that bad?"

He nods very slowly and very morbidly.  "I can only offer you 15,000… we
don't have anything more.  I don’t care how you do it, just kill him.
Please."

One of the problems with my line of work is that sometimes you question the
motivations of those who hired you.  Sometimes even the bosses who hold your
life in their hands question the motivations, but in the end, the money
always wins over morals.

Except in this case.  Now I understand.  Fuck the promise, Nekaih has to
die.


********

The solace of a highrise's ledge is occasionally mystifying.  There you are,
higher than shit and alone.

And covered in rain.

A few years ago I decided to cut my hair.  Hated it for weeks, it was too
short and utterly irritating, and I still have moments of longing for longer
hair.  But right now, as the rain drips down my back and off the natural
black ends, probably condemning me to bronchitis, I'm glad it's short.

Pulling the binoculars away and wiping the lenses dry once again, I sigh.  I
must be nuts for being up here, but I'll be damned if I couldn't do anything
else.  After the conversation with Mefret and the pleading of that
incorrigible pair of do-gooders, I'd feel like a pansy hiding out in a club
waiting for the rain to stop.

Mr. Fruity has guests.  Three of them, two women, one man, and judging by
the number of bottles he's opened tonight, they're drunk off their asses.
The music howling through the earpiece is tolerable, but up way too loud;
even without said listening device I can hear the lyrics.

The conversation, becoming increasingly garbled as they continue to drink,
relates distantly to the political situation, and now that I have a bit more
of the picture, the comments make sense.  Disgusting comments, ones that
speak of insensitive assholes, their intolerance and their disturbing
willingness to spread said intolerance like a virus.

Ugh, this is not good.  I can feel the little anger monster brewing down in
the pit of my stomach and I'm not glad to see it.  Every time it makes an
appearance, I've either taken A) the situation personally or B) gotten too
wrapped up in everyone else's misery.

I do not want to get involved, I don't care, I'm just here for a job!

If it hadn't been for those miserable high-horsed Jedi I would have never
gone back to Mefret and I never would have known why I'm sitting up on a
ledge, checking my line of sight with Mr. Fruity's head… and breaking that
damned promise.

Promises aside, if they actually knew, they would understand.

Well… maybe not.

Leveling the blaster at shoulder range, aiming it with an eye closed, I can
see my shot.  Damn, it's a beautiful one, clear, straight, no corners to
work around.  Kind of shot assassins dream about.  And the fact that his
faction friends are there to witness it just tempts me further.

Striking fear in others is an addicting hobby.

I take a deep breath, centering my concentration.  Focusing myself on making
one clean shot, my finger begins to wrap around the trigger, tightening on
the pressure sensitive…

"I thought you were sticking to your promise."

"Aaaaugh!!"  Concentration shattered, I jerk, pitching violently forward.
Strong arms suddenly wrap around my ribcage, holding me tight as I lose my
balance and my grip slips from the blaster, the weapon dropping from my
hold, clattering against the building as it falls hundreds of feet to the
ground.

A wave of dizziness hits me, and I shake my head.  I'm not agoraphobic in
the slightest, I've been vaulting buildings for a long time with impunity,
but now, watching the blaster reflect occasionally as it spins steadily
downward, I realise that this is enough to ground me for a while.

Spending a final, morbid, eternal moment bent over the edge, I feel the edge
begin to slip away until the hands around me pull me back…

Right into the chest of Ben Kenobi.

"Chuba! Bazda wahota, cha Jedi sleemo!"

Tightening his grip on my ribcage, finding my struggling amusing, Ben
whispers in my ear, "Stop moving or I can't keep you from falling."

I sigh loudly and lean back against him, trying to not cringe when I feel my
foot dangling over the edge in open space.  That was way too close for
comfort.  My shoulder wedging under his, I begin to take comfort in his
arms, something a little disconcerting considering I was just aiming a
blaster at someone's head.  "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you.  Did you talk to Mefret?"

I lick my lips.  "Um, yeah."

"Well?"

I stir a little, growing uncomfortable.  What I learned may be what they
want to know, but the decision it helped me reach is not something they
want.  "Ben?"

"Yes?"

"That's not why you're up here."  So I'm trying to change the subject, big
deal.

Interestingly enough, he pauses.  "Not really."

"You made me drop my blaster, you better have a good reason."

"I wanted to talk to you, and since you were, uh, busy this morning… "

And last night.  "You can't tell me that bothered you... "

Actually, I know better.   It did bother him, but not enough to avoid me
completely and not intentionally risk life and limb to talk to me about it.
"It did, but not for a good reason.  I think I was… was… "

"Jealous?"  Oh, this is getting better as we speak.

The hands tighten a little.  Through my drenched clothes I can feel his
fingers curled around my upper waist, absently rubbing across wet fabric.
"Yes."

I roll my eyes. And they say women are more sensitive about this stuff!
Hooking my boot on the actual edge of the little ledge and gaining a better
grip, I push back, jamming Ben against the wall of the building.  No longer
on the verge of falling, I dig a little deeper into his lap, chuckling as I
feel that he's rather hard…  "Don't bother.  Firstly, I'm not exactly a
prude.  Secondly," I pause to lean back, arching my spine so I can
intentionally rub across his erection, "I enjoyed -both- of you and wouldn't
mind 'enjoying' again."

I can hear his quiet moan, and man is it tempting to me to risk falling ten
stories to get into his pants.  After, what, two, three days of an
unremitting hormone fest punctuated with multiple orgasms and -attractive-
partners, you think I don't have sex on the brain?  As a point of fact I'm
still rather sore from Jinn's attention, and I must say, if I have to be
sore, what a way to go.

"Dare, do you actually trust us?"

The automatic answer on my lips is "no," but I refrain from saying it.  If
they know I don't trust them completely, which I don't, as with the rest of
the galaxy, sometimes including myself, they may not cooperate with me.  "I
don't put my trust in just anyone, ya know.  I know you two won't kill me,
and I'm pretty damn sure you two aren't fond of lying.  Let me put it this
way: you haven't given me a reason to -not- trust you."

The following silence is stifling.  I think he's considering my words, but I
can't figure out which way he's going.  I figure if he's insulted he'll just
dump me off the ledge and end the debate with an ungraceful thunk and splat.

"That's true."

For the last few minutes I've been watching Mr. Fruity's flat, but when Ben
gives his brief acknowledgment, I whip my head around to stare at him,
giving in to a grin when I see that his spiky hair is dripping water down
his face.  "I don't know what to do with you, Ben.  You're an unrelenting
stick in the mud, but I like you enough to look past that."

"And my Master?"

"Makes me want to join the Mile High Club."

He pauses again, but a grin quickly splits his face.  "He wasn't expecting
you to kiss me when I walked in."

"Hey, if you wouldn't have froze up on me, who said I would have stopped at
a kiss?"

Men are so fun to tease with stuff like this.  " …you're serious?"

"Absolutely."

"Well," starting to stand up, his grip easing from around me, Ben points at
the access point for my nightly roost.  "speaking of, he should be back from
his meeting with Coria by now, why don't we exchange information?"

I purse a lip briefly, wondering if a free flow of information between them
and me is a wise idea.  Any other situation and I would have laughed in
Ben's face, but like I already told him, I don't have reason to not trust
them.

Besides, it'll give me a chance to feel the room after the most entertaining
morning.


*           *               *


"You've got to be joking!  Do you know what he's gonna do with those
weapons?"

Jinn nods.  "Yes, but it still doesn't warrant Mefret hiring an assassin."

"I think I've said this before, but everyone dies, and out of all the
bastards on Krack Ass, I think Fruity deserves the most help in it."

"No one 'deserves' to die."

Gee, there's a Jedi code if I ever heard one.  I cross my arms, leaning
against the wall.  Hard-headed in more ways than one…  "Oh, and do you
forget this rule every time you cut down one of your enemies with that light
stick of yours?"

"That's self-defence," Ben interjects.  He's been fairly silent through this
argument, the lucky sot.

"Hardly.  I bet you get a rush every time you hear those things hum in the
air."  I shoot a challenging stare at Jinn.  I can see the fiery temper
under buried all his fluffy Jedi principles, and this argument is stoking
the flame.  Good.  If I have to be involved and defend myself like some
common criminal, I'm not going down quietly.  "Look, Mefret told me that
Fruity's going to test the weapon on his and Coria's faction HQs during the
Committee hearing, and I've all but confirmed the fact.  There are lowlifes
all over this shit hole running for the 'burbs cause of it, and you know
what they say about rats and sinking ships."

"Including your 'client.'"

I roll my eyes.  Always comes back to this, doesn't it?  "Actually, he'll be
at the hearing.  You wanna meet him?  I'll introduce you on the condition
that I can watch his initial reaction to two Jedi standing in front of him."

Jinn shakes his head at me.  It's interesting, his and my interaction.
Intellectually, we have this whole problem with careers and beliefs and the
like, but put us together and turn up the heat…. holy shit, I might have to
swear off non-Jedi for here on out…

"I cannot permit you to kill Nekaih."

"Who says I need your permission?  You're neither my boss nor my client, and
as far as I'm concerned, the asshole deserves it!  He's a fucking tyrant!
He's willing to kill his own people just so he can show his buyer just how
manly he is, like that stupid weapon is a replacement for his dick!  You
should see that, you're the fucking perceptive one!"

"It is not the role of the Jedi to condemn people to death."

"Then wash your hands of it, get off this miserable little stinky rock and
let me do my job!  I'm not a damned Jedi!"

"We were brought here to find a more peaceful solution other than death—"
Jinn starts to say, gaining this irritating professorial tone.

"And you failed.  Big fucking deal, it happens.  If you can't accept failure
what are you going to do when it smacks you in the ass, Jinn?  Go home
crying to your superiors that the galaxy isn't fair? Gee, I would think that
was a lesson you would have learned when you were Ben's age."

I look Ben's way and see that his mouth is agape.  Either he's not used to
such a grimy, anti-Jedi  reality or he's never seen his lauded mentor get
yelled at… probably both, considering he's just sitting back and watching
the whole affair like a bird in speeder headlights.

"I will not be talked to like this."

I laugh out loud.  "Then stop treating me like I don't know what the fuck
I'm doing!  I've spent ten years on the streets and in clubs and bars and
you think I don't know what life is like?  My entire lifetime has been about
the harshness of reality and how it's bound and determined to attack us at
every corner.  You try explaining to an eight year old girl why she can't go
outside because her friend was beaten and raped by a passing through space
pirate!"

"Experience is no replacement for wisdom."

Whoah.  Hold the damn boat.  "Excuse me, but is this from the group of
people that rip babies away from their clueless mothers to cloister them
away for thirteen years just so they can teach them how to lift a rock with
their mind.  Ooooh, there's a valid replacement for street smarts right
there.  Tell me Jinn, in all your years of living in a big, internally
heated, plumbing equipped, stocked pantry, soft bedded, -safe- environment,
how can you truly understand what experience is?"

"This is not a matter of how we were raised… "

"Bullshit!  You've questioned me every step of the damn way just because of
my job and my past!  I am who I am and outside of a few good rounds of
shagging you can't bloody well accept it!  Well, fine, go back to you
tight-assed mentors, tell them you met an assassin on Krack Ass but failed
to stop her because you couldn't move beyond your stupid stodgy rules and go
on with your life!  You can't make me change my life just because you don't
approve of my lifestyle or career, so don't bloody well expect it."

Silence.  I'm standing where I am, my fists tightly clenched, my anger
seething.  I don't often lose my temper, but when I do, it's one of those
kind of things that should come with a warning label, like "Do not piss off,
may cut you into ribbons for fun."

Ben is still frozen on the side, watching the words being tossed back and
forth, his expression openly shocked.  It's pretty safe to say he's never
seen anything like this before.

As for Jinn, well, after the shit I'm giving him I'd expect to be slammed up
against a wall, his hand at my throat, slowly choking the life from me.  But
not him.  Jedi must not be allowed to do that or some such nonsense, though
I have to wonder if the urge is there.

I wait for a few minutes longer, basically as long as my already short fuse
will hold up before I do some real damage.  Then, without further warning, I
head for the door, slamming it behind me, but not before getting out:
"Fuck you both, I have better things to do."


*************



I could rip their throats out right now, I mean, I'm that pissed.  They
could be my dear beloved husband and adorable fling on the side and I could
honestly set aside everything for the joy of watching their blood spill on
the ground.

Obviously I don't normally get this angry, but they hit the trigger point
and made the mistake of not backing off.  Or rather, Jinn did.  Ben, to his
credit, knew to keep his mouth shut and keep the fuck out of the argument.

Pacing the length of my rathole, wearing a hole in the rather cheap floor
planks, I intentionally ignore the -new- blaster sitting on the bed, resting
alongside my various other weapons.

Even I know better to not be handling deadly weapons when I have homicidal
leanings.

My neighbour is quiet.  No banging, no incessant screaming, no weird sounds
that give me the urge to carry my blaster.  Whatever's going on there, he's
quiet, and that's all that matters.

I don’t think I could put up with it today.

The plate is clean, so to speak.  I really don't need to go up to the ledge
and see what Fruity's up to; I already know his patterns.  Mefret doesn't
expect to see me 'til Fruity's dead, so I don't have to go there.  This
hearing thingy is in two days, more than enough time to get one shot in and
high tail out of the area.

And I'll be damned if I'll go seek out those Jedi.

One really has to wonder if they spend years perfecting the art of crawling
under someone's skin and then proceeding to become an irritant.  They're not
bad, I honestly don't consider Ben and Jinn my enemies, but the line between
them and me is impossible to miss.

There's not enough in common to keep us together, even as professionals with
the same ultimate goal.

That's probably what's bothering me.

I think I want to find the common ground.

I slap my forehead and sit down on the bed, running a hand through my hair,
feeling the slime.  Haven't had a decent shower in days.  Sighing loudly and
muttering a few questionable words, I reach into my bag, pull a towel and
climb into the flat's shower to clean off.

Now if only the water could be a little warmer.   At least it's not brown.

The water feels great, the layers of filth and sweat are falling away with
ease.  I scrub myself clean of their smell, washing away their masculine
marks, and chuckle to myself.

Back home they'd think me nuts.  Firstly, I'm scouring off the physical
remainders of experiences I enjoyed, and secondly, I'm wasting an ungodly
amount of water.

Back home, water is a luxury.  Moisture farms are a big industry on that
cherump tee sand ball.   It's one of the main reasons I make it a point to
get away as often as possible; given the chance, I'm a damn water baby.
Gimme a lake and I'll stay in there until you have to throw a net out and
drag me back in.  And waterfalls?  Oh, man, I've only seen one real one, and
I extended that job for three weeks just so I could wash down under all that
fucking amazing water every day.

Despite the fact that I personally don't think the water's hot enough,
there's steam everywhere.  Maybe I'll just stay in here for a while.  If
there's one thing Krack Ass doesn't seem to have a problem with, it's their
city water table.

Probably has something to do with the surplus of river systems and the
general lack of plumbing in the ghettos of this miserable planet.  Guess it
doesn't matter where you're from or where you live, the rich are always
fucking over the poor.

The soap slips from my hand, skittering across the slick shower floor.  Ugh,
naturally.

Reaching down, battering my face with a hard stream of water, I freeze
somewhere between upright and bent over.

There's a hand on my back and it ain't mine.

"What the fuck?!"

Leaning over my partially bent frame, his body touching mine, he whispers in
my ear, "Please don't tell me you're still angry."

I blink, rather stupidly I might add, and let the voice hit me before I step
forward and whip around, nearly flinging myself onto the slick tile.
"Ben!?!"

He's standing there, smiling slightly, -in- the shower.  He's soaking, the
pants, the only clothes I seem to spot on him, clinging to his hips and
legs.

If only they were a slightly thinner fabric…

"Do you trust me?"

I give him a wild look, the water now running down my back.  Pausing to
actually think about the answer, the mere fact that he got into my shower
without me knowing humbling me, I say "Make me trust you."

Did I really just say that?!  Holy bloody Boonta, Dare, don’t you dare go
down that road….

Ben raises a hand, silencing me.  He closes the distance once more, brushing
up against my front, his extended hand landing and sliding across my neck.
The tingling feeling that I felt a few mornings ago is there again, except
this time it has nothing to do with subduing me.

It's like the heat went up or something, my cheeks flush and I latch my
brown eyes on his.  Wow, last time I saw teal like that I was staring at a
precious gem in a museum…

"Dare, for once in your life, relax."

I almost defy him.  Almost.  The water drilling down my back brings me back
to reality.  I'm standing in my shower, naked, and being stared at by a
Braid dressed only in soaking wet pants.

"Oh, and never mind the argument that happened not—"

I'm cut off as the hand around my neck yanks me against him, crushing my
face against his.  Without provocation he embraces me in a kiss, wrapping
arms around my form, his hands roaming over wet skin.

Well, okay, I guess this is better than sitting and sulking all day.

By the time he's backed up against the tile I break away from his lips,
struggling a little.  I can feel him through those pants and I'll be damned
if he's not halfway to sated.  Raising an eyebrow in his general direction,
I glance quickly around.   Where Ben is, Jinn will surely follow…

"He won't disturb us, I promise."

Apparently being a Jedi serves him well; he knows that the argument bothers
me.  He also apparently knows where my worries lie.  Wonder if he knows what
I need to feel better.

"Dare, do yourself a favour and drop the attitude."

"What?"

His hands slip down to caress my buttocks, nearly dipping between my legs,
but not quite.  "You have a vulnerable side and we both know it.  What do
you have to lose by showing it?"

"My life."  Truth hurts.

"I don't believe that."  His mouth dips down, tucking under my chin to
feather kisses along the line of my jaw, his lips moist and pleasantly warm
against me.  By the time he's suckling on my neck, one of his hands is
beginning to finally sneak down between my legs, grazing across swollen
folds.  I can't help but shudder.

Until my brain comes back.  Shit, what the hell am I doing?  Backing away
so I'm standing away from him, putting an arm's length distance between us,
I cross my arms archly.

This is fucking nuts.  I came here to get away from them and what happens?
They find me again.  I step back and they move in again.  Damned wolves.

"Dare, I won't hurt you."

Men like to say that phrase, don’t they?  As if one sentence can disarm the
feminine spirit into obedience.  Not me.  "Ben, do you have any clue to what
you're doing?"

"Yes," he says simply.

Dammit.  I was hoping for some stumbling, a little apprehension, macho crap,
some reason to kick his drenched ass out, but he's not giving me one.

Brief check of options: Kick his ass out.  Only if I have to.

Drag an explanation out of him.  I've never been one for talking.

Fuck him blind.  Hmm… that's a bit better.

Get rid of him and so I can sit and sulk.  Ooh, no fucking way.

Fuck him blind.  Ah, why the hell not.

Taking one step forward, extending a hand to latch at his shoulder, I use
the movement to lean completely against his frame, smashing my body into
his.

Ben's a bit surprised.  Apparently he didn't see this coming. Pausing for a
few second to make sure I won't suddenly go kamikaze on him and claw him to
shreds, he wraps his arms around my ribcage.

Until I kiss him, slamming his head against the tile wall.  It takes a few
seconds for him to react, and when he does, I find myself being crushed
against his body, his arms squeezing my breasts into not-so-metaphorical
pancakes against his bare chest.

Nice reaction.

At some point, which I'm not actually sure, the tongue duel is stripping my
sense of time, I find Ben's hands back down around my hips, grinding me
closer to his.  Through the fabric, which is becoming increasingly annoying
to me, I can feel just how hard he is.

You know, between this one pair of Jedi, I think I've found the meaning of
"endowment."

Sliding my fingers down his sides, I rest them intentionally on his waist
for a cruel moment, playing with the waistband of his pants with my fingers.

He moans into my mouth a little. Mmm, this is going to be fun.

Latching the fingers firmly on the waistband, sneaking my body away from his
so I can actually move, I kneel down, watching him watch me as I slip down
his front in full view of those eyes.  They're big, little bit heavy on the
hormone fest, and the perfect motivation to torture him further.

With an achingly slow pull, I ease the pants down over those lovely hips, a
smile curling up the side of my face as I catch him stagger a little.
Continuing the slow torture, my hands slipping around to his sides to ease
the fabric over those deliciously hard muscles that define his ass, I inhale
a deep breath.

There is something to be said about a man's scent, especially when he's at
your whim.

"Dare…"

Ooh, his voice is strained.  It's obvious I'm driving him nuts, somewhat
literally.  With a wicked smile and a lick of the lips, I watch him for a
lingering second and then, without further warning or caution, yank down the
wet clothes, stripping him, leaving him bare.

And fully aroused.

Ben gasps, a semi-vocal sound that sends shivers down my spine.  One of his
hands latch onto my shoulder, tightening on the skin.  Raising a hand and
trailing it down his abdomen, through the nest of hair and finally to the
base of that, er, outstanding cock, I wrap deft fingers around his length,
using the water still beating around us to slide my hand up and down without
friction.

Rocking against my hand, I hear another series of moans slip from his mouth,
occasionally punctuating the melody with an odd gasp as I help him discover
nerves he never knew he had.  Bending over a little more, I angle to place
deft kisses up his thigh, at the curl of a ball, and at the base of his
cock, using the tip of my tongue to tickle nerves.  Slipping back, I brush
lips across his weeping tip, flitting a tongue over it, feeling him shudder.

But as I'm about to take his length in my mouth he stops me, setting an
unsteady hand on my head, holding me where I am.

I blink.  This is new.  "Problem?"

He shakes his head, sliding the hand to under my chin, hooking a finger,
impelling me to stand up once again.  Following his request, rising to my
feet, but making sure to stand up almost on top of him, the curves of my
breasts and hips rubbing up on him, I meet his eyes, curious.  "Afraid I'll
bite?"

Damn but those eyes are intoxicating.  "No… just not here."

I raise an eyebrow, using my hand to continue what my mouth was about to do.
"Oh?  And what's wrong with a nice, hot, wet shower with a nice, hot, wet
woman, hmm?"

It looks like he's about to change his mind.  Well why not?  Showers are
fun.  "Nothing."

Latching onto his lower lip, suckling it until I can penetrate his mouth
with my tongue, I feel his teeth snap down on my tongue, holding it still.
Good, now he's playing.  Returning the move, devouring my mouth with his,
one of his hands finding a breast and caressing it, working the nipple into
a tight bud with his strong fingers, he slips his other hand between us,
pushing away my digits away from his shaft and hooking his hand under a
thigh.

With a surprising jolt he picks me off the tile floor, sliding his arm
underneath my knees, never once breaking the lip lock.  His other hand
extends out and uses a nifty Force trick to turn the faucet off, the sound
of water ceasing in our ears, then wraps the arm under my shoulders, his
hand petting the base of my neck.

Walking us out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, I try to say
something but he muffles me, saying "shhh."

Normally I'd be inclined to deck him.  In this case, however, I guess I can
let it slide… right into me…

The lights are off, which they weren't when I first wandered into the
shower.  Also, and not entirely surprisingly, there's a pile of brown and
tan clothes on the floor next to mine.

However, the pile seems a little large for one man.

With a gentle ease, Ben lowers me to the bed, setting me on the end and
immediately wedging himself between my legs, slowly beginning the kiss and
fondle process of working me up onto the bed itself…

Right into something solid.  Warm and solid.  Warm, solid and suspiciously
shaped like a…

"JINN!!  Coo killee ma!!"

Jinn leans down to kiss my forehead with a smug smile on his face.
"Promises, promises, my dear."


****************************


The first instinct every assassin learns is to never stray far from your
weapon.  Being a firm believer in that instinct, my back laid against the
chest of Qui-Gon Jinn, Braid Ben looming over me, his hips between my
thighs, I lunge to the side of the bed, diving for my blaster.

As far as I know, this could be a damned trap.

The bodies around me shift, a large hand, undeniably Jinn's, landing on my
shoulder.  It doesn't stop me, and I hook my hand under the bed frame where
I spotted the askew edge of the blanket, grasping for the blaster barrel.

"Dare…"

Ignoring Ben's warning and latching a hand around my goal, I swing back up,
now laying stomach down.  Leveling the blaster at the Jinn's lower, bearded
jaw, I growl, "And what, pray tell, are you here for?"

The smile fades a little, softening into a look of patient interest.
"Obi-Wan didn't explain?"

Ben coughs behind me, ignoring his uninterrupted view of my ass.  "I got,
ah, a little distracted."

I never avert my eyes from Jinn's as I remark back, intentionally snide,
"Nothing little about you, Ben."

Jinn begins to raise his hand, but stops when I poke his chin with the end
of the barrel.  When I mean business, I mean business.  "Are you going to
let me say my piece or threaten me for the entire night?"

"Thinking about it.  What the hell do you want, Jinn?"

He draws a deep breath and seems to be steeling himself.  What, is he going
to give a speech?  Watching cautiously as his hand sweeps across, placing
fingers carefully on the blaster barrel, he very quietly says, " I wanted to
tell you I was wrong."

I blink.  Did I just hear that right?  "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you
the first time.  A little bit louder."

Jinn sighs at me, and grates out " I was wrong.  I'm sorry."

Breaking my gaze from him, I take a chance and look back at Ben, who is half
sitting on the bed.  He nods somewhat sheepishly.  "I was supposed to
mention that in the shower.  Soften the blow."

This is curious.  I think I'm being apologised to and seduced at the same
time.  My guess, and considering I'm practically laying in between the both
of them, dripping wet and entirely nude, is that this is legit.  Jinn is
actually admitting he's wrong.

But I'm not letting -all- my guard down.

"Well I'll be damned, Jinn, what made the mighty Jedi realise his own
infallibility?"

The blue eyes wander to the ceiling and then back to me.  "You," he
whispers.

I gotta be dreaming.  This possibly can't be real.  I can accept Ben
sneaking up on me and acting like the concerned third party, but Jinn?
Never figured him for a "make up sex" kind of guy…

Of course, considering what I've already gotten from him, I'll take another
go round for the sake of forgiveness.  I'd have to be blind, chaste and numb
from the waist down to wish otherwise.

Leaning back over and setting the blaster on the floor slowly, waiting for
the last possible chance of them ambushing me and taking me hostage, I
settle back against the broad chest underneath me, propping my chin up on my
elbows.  With a grin and a lick of the lips, I give him my best honeyed
sarcasm.  "So, you boys here for the weekly poker game, huh?"

"Not," he begins, pulling my chin from my hands, drawing my face near his,
"quite."

I love big hands.  They’re so useful and strong… so many uses…

There's a moment of time that slips by where no one says anything, however,
as far as I can tell, they're just not using their voices.  Interesting
trick.  Jinn, after pulling me off my elbows, wraps a hand around my neck,
scooting me closer to his face, and I suppress the involuntary backpedaling
as I feel hands, which can only be Ben's, slide up and down my back with a
firm caress.

Catching the restrained sigh of pleasure that slips from my mouth, Jinn
closes the distance between us, taking me in a deep kiss, taking advantage
of the rising heat that's threatening to drive me batty.

The hands on my back run over my buttocks, the fingers sliding across my
still damp flesh, following the curves down, dancing with sadistic pleasure
closer and closer to my clit.  Jinn's bearded chin brushes roughly against
my smooth one and I wedge myself further on him as his tongue works past my
lips.

I hear Ben's sigh, strained and slightly vocal, his left hand falling almost
casually between my legs, his fingers sliding through wet folds, sending
bolts of electricity up my spine.  His hand is somewhat insistent, and I
can't help but arch my hips to it, writhing rather pathetically to the
smallness of a single hand as compared to the rough attention of the body
part meant for penetration.

But it could be worse.  I mean, I could still be sulking in the shower.

Jinn pushes me away, studying my eyes for a minute.  I guess my look gives
the fact that I'm enjoying the attention away, because with a single look
over my head and a solid grip on my shoulders, he flips me around so I'm
once more laying with my back to his chest.

"Now wait just a damn min—"

My words actually catch when I see Ben again.  There's nothing like a man
teetering on that edge, the edge between aroused and sated, and boy is he
sitting there.  With a wanton smile, I lick my lips and spread my legs a
little, bending a knee up to bring the point home.

There's a brief moment of hesitation.  Again, here we are as the morning not
too long ago, my nude body splayed against Jinn's and the fiery Ben at a
slight distance.  Rising to his knees and crawling up 'til that braid of his
tickles across one of my breasts, I feel Ben's hips once more settle in
between mine completely, the tip of his cock making its hard presence known
to me.

Now, despite the last few days, you would think that Temple would be a bit
more… refined in the face of sexual escapades, but pinned between two rather
studly members of said Temple, a girl just has to wonder.  I know I've been
here before, have they?  Oh well, one way to find out…

With a shift of hips I use my leverage to tease Ben, reminding him just how
close to me he is, noting with a raised eyebrow that even through the sheet
Jinn has pulled up to his waist, I can feel with every sway the definition
of his own increasingly aroused member.  Maybe they have been here before…

Finally laying down across me, his smooth, broad torso flattening me between
them, Ben bends down to kiss me, surprisingly tender, considering.  His
hands slip down my sides, settling on my hips and with a slight shift and a
surprised gasp of mine, enters me.  The kiss between us ends as he breaks
away to gasp for air, his eyes fluttering shut.

Oh yeah, that's it, no more non-Jedi for me…

Ben arches back, using an upright angle to push himself deeper inside,
thrusting with those well-honed muscles of his.   Jinn's hands slip around
my now freed chest, the fingers finding my nipples and working them to
pained peaks between rough fingerpads.  My head thrown firmly back against
his chest, Ben's rough bump and grind beginning to work knots in my muscles,
Jinn angles enough to have his face looming over mine, the ends of that
delicious hair tickling across my warmed cheeks.

His voice is a deep, somewhat husky, somewhat musical "You can leave anytime
you wish."

If I could laugh, I would, but the fact that every erogenous zone of mine is
being attended to -at once- I'm rather incapacitated that ability.  Go
figure.  "You're stuck with me."

"Oh, not yet, little troublemaker."

Working around the moan that rises out of my throat as Ben so effectively
strikes a tender spot inside me, I grate out "Little?!"

Jinn chuckles, the vibration rumbling down my spine, and I finally give into
the moan.  If this doesn't kill me, I don't know what will.

Raising arms up and tangling my hands in Jinn's hair, pulling his neck to a
reachable range, I latch onto a section of flesh, suckling at the salty
texture, feeling him jolt sharply as his flesh is grazed with the edge of
teeth.  As he gives into it and apparently the part of him that likes this
kind of stuff, Ben rocks forward, adjusting himself and nearly slipping
free, laying partially across my body again, his mouth landing on a now free
nipple, Jinn's one hand tangling in my own hair.

With a sharp thrust and rock forward, Ben gasps, the hot breath like flames
across every little nerve.    Damn but he's close, and the friction he's
creating is intoxicating.

Hey, I never said I liked it gentle.

Ben suckles at the achingly sore bud, his tongue alternating between light
brushes and hard pressed circling, my body almost involuntarily jerking to
the motions of his hips. Slowing down to withdraw almost totally, my mild
gasp muffled by Jinn's throat, Ben waits a few moments, and just as I'm
about to throw a threat his way, impales me fully to the hilt, a deep
throated, achingly fulfilling moan slipping from his mouth as he comes.  My
back arches against the sensation of the hot liquid filling me, my gentle
nipping turning into a savage bite at Jinn's throat.

Jinn lurches, honestly shocked to find teeth burying into his neck, but he
doesn’t knock me away.  Ben pulls out, breathing heavily, sitting back on
his haunches, his eyes half focusing on me and my next movements.

Most of the way to my own climax, the tension in my muscles not sharp enough
to ruin -all- my sentient thought, but enough to motivate me, I roll over,
releasing my grip of Jinn.  Rocking up to my hands and knees, looming over
that long lean Jedi Master body, I drop down a little to run the tip of my
tongue up Jinn's sternum, catching the very little, very controlled shudder
as hairs are disturbed just above sensitive nerves.  Pausing to place a wet,
teasing kiss on each of his nipples, I work back over his neck, trying to
not laugh as I notice the fresh welt forming.  Ending on his mouth, using my
hands to push the sheet off his body, exposing him fully, I slide a hand to
wrap fingers around his length.

I catch a quiet growl from him and snicker.  Despite my own need, I always
enjoy reducing men to needy balls of testosterone.  "So Jinn," I purr into
his ear, "you remember this?"

His voice is a little deeper, and breaks off when my fingers slide down to
brush over the edge of a sac, "Wanton little thing, aren't you?"

This time I actually do laugh, seeing in my peripheral vision Ben's
interested posture as my hand slips off the erect shaft to cup and fondle
the large man trapped beneath me.

Oooh, life is good.

Jinn's hand latches onto the arm supporting me above him, pushing me
backwards.  I can see where this is going and to tell you the truth, I'm
glad.  When given the choice of the Lionesque Jinn and Tight Assed Jinn,
gimme the lion and I'll let him bite my neck anytime…

Re-settling my balance, I rock back to rest on his waist, watching him give
me a look of frustration until I set my hands on his chest, turning
fingernails in and raking them lightly across his skin, catching the mild
wince of pain and pleasure cross his face.  His hands latch onto my hips,
the fingers rubbing absently in circles.  Still urging me back, the hands
slip in front a little, the thumbs running through soft curls before sliding
across my nub.  I arch my back a little, still quite sensitive and teetering
on the edge.   The thumbs wander further still and by the time one of them
slips fully through the very wet folds, I'm writhing and could care less
what the hell I look like.

Sick of the game, I rock onto my knees, scooting to balance precisely above
his hips, licking my lips.  Watching his face as I tease him by slipping a
hand underneath me and grasping his shaft, I flash a smile and then, with
the agility of someone who scales ten story tall buildings on a semi-regular
basis, sit down on him, taking that very filling cock inside.

I can't help but gasp.  You would think I would remember, but oh no, the air
of pleasant surprise is evident.  Leaning back, just letting the feeling
wash over me as it pushes that eminent orgasm even further, I feel my
shoulders being cradled in a pair of hands.  Willing to follow the guiding
for the moment, knowing that these two know that a pissed off assassin in
grasping range of family jewels is highly dangerous, I find my head titled
back and being met by Ben's interested face.  Kissing down my face, he
brushes past my mouth, whispering in my ear, "Is this what would have
happened if I hadn't froze?"

Such soft lips….geez… Coming to my senses, rocking my hips reflexively and
being rewarded by a flood of sensation, I use the angle and murmur back
"Pretty much."

Sitting up and beginning to shift atop Jinn, and building a very nice rhythm
I might add, I can feel it.  You know, its like one of those feelings you
work hard for and despite the fact that they only last for mere seconds, who
the hell cares?  White heat running through your veins in the middle of a
snowstorm, with that pain you know you're not supposed to take wicked
pleasure in, but do anyways, and hopefully more than once.

I gasp, well, more like a moan, unable to help it and shut my eyes, throwing
my head back as it hits and hits hard.  The waves are damned intense, maybe
it’s the energy in the room, or the presence of the two wonder boys, I just
don't know, but I'll be damned if I don't enjoy it.

Apparently, Jinn likes it too.  Feeling the muscles contract around him as
the inner walls spasm and the obligatory fluid lubricates the way a little,
he rocks up to a sitting position, using the position to bring new
sensation, his knees rising a little to support my back as I lean backwards,
arching my spine.

Ben's hand finds me again, and roams easily down my front as he moves to
take my lips.  He catches them sure enough, and a duel ensues for each
other's mouth as I'm easily rocked in rhythm to Jinn's thrusts, easily being
moved to yet another orgasm from his ministrations.

Suits me fine.

Having the back support, my hands rather free to play, one finds Ben,
touching first his arm and winding down his chest, my reward a slight gasp
as my fingers find his cock, and not incredibly surprisingly, a somewhat
less than flaccid one at that.

Riding Jinn, I use my hip movement to dictate my movements, sliding fingers
up and down the quickly hardening member in my hand, I feel Ben press
further into my mouth, threatening to drop me surreptitiously to the
mattress as he becomes more insistent.  One of his hands snakes around to
cup and fondle a breast, rolling the nipple between fingers.  Jinn's hands
are at my hips, holding my so strongly there that I really couldn't move if
I wanted, fingertips hooking around the arch of my pelvic girdle.

At this point I've given up sight since the sensation of touch is enough to
overload my nerves and leave me as a grinning idiot for a few years.

Sex dreams should be pretty good, now, too.

Back against Jinn's legs, literally taking a breather as Ben breaks the kiss
and allows me to breathe again, I gasp sharply, the searing sensation of
Jinn shifting to drop me on the surface of the bed, lifting my hips as he
settles on his knees, folding his legs underneath him, never breaking the
contact.  The thrusts become harder, more insistent and at this new
position, one I think I need to remember, being the kind of "rougher" I
tread lightly with, but enjoy when done properly.

His hand slides down in between us, the fingers slipping between and in
between the layers of labia, working serpentine circles around my clit.  The
urge to scream is there, but I won't give in.  Not even for this.  Panting,
arching my hips to meet him, I bite my lip and drop my hand from Ben's
member.

He really wouldn't appreciate it if I squeezed a trifle too hard…

Rising from the same depths as the first, the orgasm strikes and washes over
me.  Overriding my efforts, the mild scream tears from my throat, and with
the contracting of my muscles I feel that inevitable final thrust and come.
Jinn shudders, riding it out, bending down to graze a bearded cheek across
my cheek, seeking an insistent and fulfilling kiss, his tongue pushing past
my lips and teeth, devouring my mouth whole.

This lasts for a few moments, and I'm all but letting him, having forgotten
that I'm dealing with two men at once, not one, and that's a tad more
tiring.  Which is not to forget the previous nights and their general lack
of sleep…

Jinn whispers something to me, which I generally miss cause I'm not really
listening to anything but the sound of my blood pounding in my ears, and
withdraws, leaving me sprawled comfortably on the bed and Ben somewhere
nearby.

Stretching luxuriously, feeling righteously well done, I extend arms and
brush them across the side of Ben, currently moving.  He settles on his side
next to me, his hand playing languidly across my skin, which I finally
notice is somewhat coated with a sheen of sweat.

Gee, go fig, Dare, what have you been doing for the last hours?

"So, Dare, is this what you wanted?"

I think I can talk.  Pretty sure in fact.  "See the shit eating grin, Ben?"

He nods as his hand slides across the guard thing scars.  "Yes?"

"That means I'm happy, Ben."

He raises an eyebrow, studying me.  "Oh."

"By the way, where did the big guy go?"

I get blinked at.  Hmm, not sure which way he took that pun…  "Shower."

"Oh," I murmur back, stretching again.  "So he'll be in there a while."

The studious look breaks into a wry smile.  "He has longer hair than you, of
course he will.  Besides," shifting to slide a leg over mine, his foot
absently brushes across my calf, "he's a water hog, always uses up the hot
water."

I grin for two reasons.  Firstly, Ben doesn't seem content to revel in the
post-fuck glow.  Secondly, I'm finding it highly amusing that Jinn is a
water fiend… he'd hate home…

There's a pause when his hand slips over my thigh.  Almost predictably, it
moves into soaked areas, caressing well-used folds, his fingers slickened by
a rather curious mixture of fluids.  Sliding a finger easily inside and
pumping it a few times experimentally, he seems rather pleased when I softly
hiss  "Now, now Ben, you better plan on finishing once you start."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

I roll my eyes.  And here I used to think that Jedi were chaste little
bitties that pranced around the galaxy…. now I know.

They're not little, they're hardly chaste and the way Ben walks, it should
be -saunters- around the galaxy.

Rolling on him suddenly, using the swift move to tangle his legs with mine
while on my side and then yanking him down on top of me, I grin as he
struggles to remove his hand from its pelvic trap.

It takes about five seconds for him to figure out what's going on. Freeing
his hand, he rocks easily into the niche between my legs and inside me,
swiftly completing the hand job that I had started on him and rocking me
easily up to climax once more.  He buries his head in my neck and I find a
solid grip on that braid of his, winding it in my hand.

All told, its probably a rather unenduring ten minutes before we're both
sweaty, happy heaps on the bed once more, completely and hopelessly
entangled.

Licking my lips in satisfaction, I glance towards the bathroom, having
finally noticed that water is shut off and the billows of steam have thinned
out.

Standing there, drying his hair with one of the towels I dragged along with
me, is Jinn, and the smile on his face tells the story.

He saw just about everything, and unlike any other man I've know, including
the idiot that used to be my ex-steady, now slightly maimed significant
other, there's no lines of jealousy on his face.

Curious to the last.


**************


Now let’s be clear.  No matter what situation, what place or what time zone
I'm currently in, I hate mornings.

Well, not hate, more like an intolerable, unremitting loathing.

This is no exception.

Curled somewhere in between two warm, male bodies, muttering rather
viciously as the sunlight burns through the miserably cheap blinds and
straight into my eyes, I crack my eyelids and shade my face with my hand,
noting with interest that my arms are a little sore.

You'd think I just got off from a tour with a traveling circus.

"Good morning."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling a leg shift lazily underneath me.  "Nothing
bloody good about it.  Now roll over and let me go back to sleep."

The voice is Jinn's.  Figures he'd be a morning person.  "We have a lot to
do, Darice."

"Dare," I quickly correct.  You'd think after all that contact…

"Dare.  Tomorrow is the hearing, we need to get Nekaih out of the way."

I sigh.  Business creeps back into life, and unbeknownst to them, my
intention hasn't changed.  I'll get Nekaih out of the way, all right; I'll
kill the bugger.

However the rules have changed.  Rather than breaking out on my own and
relying only on my well-honed instincts, I have to play a two headed coin.
Take the loyalty I've bred in the Jedi and use it as an aide to my job.

I just won't use my standard style.  If I do it right, they'll never know it
was me.

Stretching out, my toes hitting feet, I shrug to myself and slip towards the
edge of the bed, sliding out to hop into the shower.  The water, cold this
time, my own rather masochistic version of a wake-up call, beats down and I
use it and the soap to scrub up.

I love men and sex and both of them in combination, but not washing clean of
either of them is a recipe for disaster.

Shutting the stream off and using my hands to pull the excess water from my
hair, I reach a hand out to grasp for a towel, finding none where I left it.
With a roll of the eyes, pushing the curtain aside, I take a single step out
and cross my arms at the amused look of Jinn holding the towel aloft in one
large hand.

"Once again I'm dripping wet and you're standing there holding the cards and
my attention."

He raises an eyebrow, his blue eyes watching me with intelligent interest.
"Seems that way.  Where did you learn that trick?"

Grabbing the towel and using it, finding it utterly undisturbing that he's
watching me, I shrug.  "A friend of mine taught me it when I was a late
teen."

"What kind of friend knows how to control conception?"

I shake my head.  Apparently, some of us truly live cloistered lives…  "She
was a whore, Jinn."

"Oh."

"And she died a few years ago, so watch your fucking tongue."

He pauses, folding his arms thoughtfully over his chest.  Finally taking a
moment to actually look at him, I'm caught with an image.  Clad in brown
pants and a thin, long sleeved beige tunic, he looks like someone who just
stepped out of the market place.

What is it about this pair that keeps on reminding me of that damnable
place?  I don't even like it there…

Wrapped in the towel I walk past Jinn, kneeling by the bed to retrieve fresh
clothes from my bag.  Peering over the edge and seeing Ben still comfortably
laid out, I take a huge chance.

"Ever been to Mos Espa, Jinn?"

I can feel his eyes staring at my back.  "No."

There's a small bit of luck.  "Shit hole of a place, let me tell you.
Wasn't born there, which is lucky, I guess, since I'd probably be a slave if
I was."

"I didn't realise that slavery was still permitted in—"

"Your precious Republic is not as all pervasive as it should be, Jinn.
You're a noble band of heroes, and all moral hang-ups aside, I respect that.
But you just seem to miss certain undeniable details."

"Like slavery."

"Like fuckin' slavery."

There's a pause as my motions of putting on the skintight black pants
renders Jinn quiet.  Breaking it with a cough as I turn around, a knife
scabbard and belt in my hand, he manages a "I'm glad you're not a slave."

Not exactly his most intellectual moment.  "Yeah, me too.  I don't do
obedience very well."

Standing up, straightening the outfit and shrugging at Jinn, I walk past him
to stand before the mirror in the bathroom.  Appearances are one thing, and
while I'm no intergalactic model that spends hours primping, outstanding
features distinguish one from the crowd.

Which the bruise on my neck probably would qualify as. Dammit.

Jinn comes to stand behind me, his frame towering over me.  Yeesh.  Talk
about an urge to wear high heels.  "Who did that?"

I raise an eyebrow.  "You mean which one of you, huh?"

He pauses and the look is cryptic.  I have no idea what he's thinking and
I'm not sure it's a good thing.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was Ben since I'm the one who bit you."

The cryptic look fades to a wry grin.  Good, there's a fondness I need to
rely on.  "I remember."

"Pleasantly?"  So I'm prodding, big deal.

The arms cross over each other as Jinn settles into a more comfortable
stance.  "Not that I'm used to being reduced to a chew toy, but yes.  You're
a strange woman, Darice."

"Ah, for Boonta's sake, Jinn, it's Dare."

He watches me sweep by him once again, this time heading for the main room.
As far as I can tell, he's hesitating at calling me by my preferred name.
What's the big fucking deal?   There aren't that many people who get called
the same thing, and the chance that they've crossed his path in a bad way is
nearly impossible.

"Why do you go by Dare?"

Well, I guess it's better than outright refusal.  Prying into my travel bag
for a tool I -know- I packed, I partially turn my head to watch Jinn's
reaction.  "Long story short.  Was a teen on the streets doing pretty good
at scams and gambling.   Got caught in an argument with a pisser of a kid
who said I was a chickenshit."

"And?"

Now he's impatient?  "He dared me to filch some spaceball's blaster, which I
did."

"Oh."

"But ya see, the reason I got the name and he didn't— musta sunk his ego
real nice— is that I responded to his challenge and when I told him to get
the spaceball's friend's blaster, he chickened out.  See, Jinn?  He -dared-
me."

"Somehow I was expecting something a little more colourful."

I roll my eyes.  First he can't stand me for what I am and now he's finding
my childhood boring?  "Well, I could tell you that I answered the challenge
of some intergalactic scumball named Dare who made a reputation for himself
and then passed the name down to his worthy underlings, IE me, but then
that's just be boring bullshit."

Ben stirs on the bed.  Peering over the side I spot that braid of his
splayed across the mattress and resist the immediate urge to tug it.  It's
just so tempting, and barring the shower and clean clothes I've just taken
care of and would have to do again, a morning romp sounds fun.

I mean, hey, its not like the shower is going to grow legs and walk away.

"Don't even think about it.  We have things to do today."

I arch an eyebrow at Jinn and move to sit on the edge of the bed, creeping a
hand close to the end of that braid.  "Most of my stuff happens at night.
What's the rush?"

"The hearing."

"Which is tomorrow."

Ben stirs a little, probably dreaming.  Lucky sot.

"And the leaders should be there at some point to settle details."

Oh, yeah, Fruity's a neat freak.  "Whatever.  Still don't see why we can't
do it after the sun sets.  I mean, yeesh, Jinn, there are roosters that are
still asleep right now."

I'm not sure what he's thinking, not that I want to anyways, but I think he
missed my point.  Giving up the argument and glaring out the window,
uttering a few choice words at the big blazing yellow thing in the sky, I
look around the room for an idea.  With a wicked grin, I lean across the
bed, my shoulder connecting nicely with Ben's upper back.  Leaning in
towards his ear, I murmur, "So, sweet thing, how about a morning go round
just for the hell of it?"

Jinn raises an eyebrow at me.

Ben, however, shifts significantly.  Oh, I played it right.  Sex dream!
There's a murmur that I can't understand and his back moves against my
touch.  Gods, this is fun.

"Ben… " Hopping up on the bed, straddling his back and leaning down, resting
my head near his, I can't help but grin.  Here he is, lying prone and naked
with me looming over him and I've got control.

This doesn't happen every day, ya know.

"Oh, Ben, time to wake up…"

Jinn is staring at me.  I suppress a laugh.  This smells like jealousy, and
I can't say I'm sad to see it.  Hard enough getting emotion out Jinn, and
I'm not going to halt something as potent as good ole fashioned male envy.

When Ben doesn't move again, I finally lay down across him, pressing my
weight into him, my mouth lingering oh so naughtily next to his ear.  "Good
morning, Ben…"

I get a reaction… however its not the one I'm expecting.

Ben rears up, shocked apparently that the real world has jolted him free of
sleep, sending me flying.  With a shout of displeasure and a painful thunk
on the floor, I cross my arms and sigh.

I think I can hear Jinn chuckling.

"Can it, smart ass."

Sitting up and scratching his head, Ben peers over the edge where I'm
laying, a sleepy look on his face.  "That was you, wasn't it?"

I point a finger at Jinn, anticipating his line.  It's all over his face,
beard aside.  "Yeah, it was me.  So how'd you sleep right before you dumped
me down here?"

The look turns sheepish.  "Um, pretty good, and sorry, that was my bad.  I'm
not used to waking up with a woman on top of me."

That's a damned shame, maybe I should offer that particular service.
"Well…"

"Obi-Wan?"

Both Ben and I look towards the roadblock watching us.  "Yes, Master?"

Dammit!  That word is now permanently embedded in my head as a kinky term.
Fuck!! Get it out!

"Why don't you shower and get dressed, Obi-Wan?"

"Why?"

Good question.

"Because," Jinn starts, coughing in my direction, "we have things to do
today."

"Like me?" I chime in.  I can hope, right?

"No," is the retort.  "We have to stop a weapon from killing people."

Ben's only response before meandering off to the shower is, "Oh."

Mine, however, is a tad more colourful.  "Ah, for fuck's sake."


*         *         *


The building where they're holding the hearing is a fucking palace; I haven’
t seen this much gold and shiny shit since Alderaan, and I thought that was
prissy and overdone.

Someone should tell Bail Antilles.

"Hey, Jinn, hand over the black case."

From my left, the little soft cover case is placed in my extended hand.
Setting it in my lap, I pry it open, digging for my extra listening device.

"What's that?"

I arch an eyebrow at Jinn, ignoring the fact that me and this huge Jedi are
perched on a four story ledge across from the palace IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.  I
wasn't happy about this from the start.

As soon as we got out of the flat Jinn, the spoilsport, orders Ben to
actually go inside the palace and volunteers himself to sit on the ledge
with me.  AND IT'S DAY!!!

I'm probably a little overworked about the whole thing.  Sure, it's light
out, people are awake and we're visible.  No big deal.

Not.

Holding up the little box and the earpiece, I wink at Jinn.  "Listening
device, which I guess you guys can’t use.  Nice, small, no cords."

"Shouldn't the transmitter be in the room with the leaders?"

There's a comment on my lips, but I refrain from saying it.  Just not the
place or time, considering it takes one good shove for Jinn to knock me off
this ledge, which, of course, he chose.

Never mind the three centimetres of bird shit cemented to it.

"Tell ya what.  You hop down, set the transmitter someplace nice and
invisible and come on back when you're done."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Hmm... lemme think…  how about staying up here, pondering the nature of the
galaxy?"

He stares at me.

"Scraping the bird shit off this lovely garden spot?"

The stare continues.  I guess my humour is lost to him.  "Okay, fine, I'll
be up here waiting for you like some little puppy."

He pats my arm.  "That's better.  I'll be back."

And with that he leaves me be.  If he wasn't such a decent guy with a sexual
technique to rival a rutting Bantha, I'd get my ass out of this place
pronto.

Waiting a few seconds to pull the blaster from the hip holster, I check the
power pack.  Fully charged, very nice.  Lining it up with one of the palace
windows to check that this thing can aim, I wrap a finger around the trigger
to half squeeze it down, just enough to test the parts, and curse.

The fucking trigger won't move.

I squeeze again, this time with all my hand strength.

Nothing.

"You fucking asshole, Jinn!!   You glued the fucking trigger!!"

His only response to my four story screaming fit is to look up where I'm
sitting and wave.

"Chuba!!"


****************


The next five minutes involve the fastest dismantling of a Type P-3 blaster
in history.  Screwing off the barrel and setting it on a leg I wedge a
finger into the trigger's casing and dig around, muttering things under my
breath best reserved for brothels and spaceball pubs.

I hate this kind of blaster, it's hard as shit to get replacement parts for;
but since it was the piece of over-glorified shit I was trained on and can
take a dead aim on in a coma, I feel better using it.

Never mind that it’s the third one I've bought on Krack Ass.

It also costs more that the standard issue Republic army piece of shit
blaster.  It’s not that I don't respect their army, it's just that in the
grand bureaucracy of droids, weapons, ships and soldiers, they like to cut
corners.

I hate droids.  Those things are the walking realisation of war without
humanity.  A soldier can kill a man and he runs the risk of getting caught
up in the backlash of murder; but if you send a droid in, all it's got is
it's orders and the infallible goal of completing them, victims be damned.

But that's just my bias.

Pulling free my finger and sniffing it, there's no sign of glue.  I can
smell chemicals, and glue is hard to miss… except in this case.  Maybe I'm
getting rusty.

No, there has to be something sticking the damned thing.  No one can lock up
something like a trigger with their mi—

The Jedi could.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The voice behind me nearly scares me right off the ledge.  I may not be
rusty at sniffing glue, but my perceptive skills sure are…  "Having problems
with the weapon?"

"Jinn, what the fuck did you do to this?"

He smiles at me and sits back down on the ledge.  "The Jedi Temple does
teach some good skills."

"'How To Piss Someone Off.'"

He shrugs.  "That's more of an elective."

The urge to bang my head against something solid, preferably not the
pavement below, strikes me.  Digging around the little black bag once more,
withdrawing a small metal case, I turn it upside down and shake the contents
free.

Jinn's eyes widen.  "What are you doing?"

It's my turn to smile as I set a little piece of black between my lips,
holding it there as I bang the broken trigger piece free.  "Well, Jinn,
there some things that your Temple teaches you that I can't do,"  I hold up
the freed piece, raising an eyebrow as I note just how twisted the little
bit of metal is. "And there are some things that I know how to do that you
don't."

"Apparently."  His gaze is locked on my fingers as I take the part from my
mouth and begin to wedge the replacement trigger in the empty space.  I'll
be damned if the new one isn't a better fit than the original.  Ugh. I hate
that.   Go to a world that isn't dominated by the decent arms trade and you
get the cheap shit for the same price.  At this rate I would have been
better off with an army blaster.

Turning my head suddenly, I catch Jinn staring at me, or more precisely, my
profile.  Well, I guess he's already seen me fully nude and writhing atop of
him, it's not like he won't see something new with clothes on top.  "Jinn… "

His voice is quiet, held back.  Hmm, he might know something I don't.
"Yes?"

"Stop staring at my nose like it's a piece of artwork."

"You've broken it."

I roll my eyes and screw the barrel back on.  "Pot and kettle, Jinn."

Out of the corner of my eye I can see his face curl into a smile.
Apparently I've touched on an amusing part of his life, though why snapping
the bridge of your nose is funny is beyond me.

"Well, yes, but you almost can't tell you've—"

"Broken it unless the observer has too?  Yeah, I know.  Broken it twice, the
second time re-aligned it a bit though."  Still holding the power pack in my
lap, I aim the blaster at a wall, aligning the marks with a particularly
ugly roof spire.  Jinn is watching me like a hawk… wonder if this is his
version of tight assed disapproval.

The trigger squeezes obligingly, shooting a blank, and I rest my back
against the building with a smug smile.  It's good to be right.   "So, what
about you?  Kid bully? Clumsy student?  Accident during sex?"

The look I get in response is precious.  Oh, for a cam! He waits a few
moments before drawing a long breath, not blinking the entire time,
obviously about to say something typically Jedi, but pauses, letting the
comment drop.  Much to my pleasant surprise, the smile creeps back, and
there's a bit of the stallion from previous nights. Mmm, excuse me as I
consider sex on a slippery ledge… "Accident, and no, not during sex.  It was
actually a rather embarrassing fall."

"Awww, big bad Jedi made an ass of himself."

"Something like that," he reluctantly admits.

Now for me, someone who plays on shown feelings, this is good.  Crack the
Jedi's stoic face and get him to admit to a real emotion, and we're making
progress.  Yeah, the, ah, encounters have showed me quite a bit of his other
side, but still.  He's not going to act like that around his superiors or
strangers, barring that club hallway.

That still throws me for a loop.  A good loop, mind you, but still a loop.

"You never explained what your friend taught you."

"No?"  Putting the rest of the blaster back together, I set the hunk of
metal on my leg, watching it wobble back and forth.  "Guess not."

"You weren't hurt or—"

I guess my facial expression betrays me, because before he can finish his
sentence he falls quiet and the silence following borders on painful.
Dammit.  "No. Still intact, which I can't say for my sister."

"Sister?"

"Don't wander from the topic, Jinn.  The real trick is pharmaceutical; the
rest is, well, you get a yeast infection and not get obsessive over
cleanliness."

I think he's wincing.  "But… "

I point to the palace across the way.  "That's what we're here for, let's
not forget."

"I know."

"Listen," I guess if it has to be said… "Life's been pretty fucked up for
me, I can handle that.  Don't expect a sob story from me, cause you won't
get it.  Compared to my sister, though… "

"What about her?"

Shit.  I keep on bringing her up.  I guess it's my own damn fault for having
her on my mind.  "She's got a kid, couple years old now.  Our guardian died
like five years ago and I was already on my own and stubborn as hell, but
she, ah, fucked herself up, literally."

I stop myself.  I know he's listening, but this is just too damned personal
to dump the entire tale on him.

"Please, go on."

Fiddling with the blaster, I stare up at the irritatingly bright sky,
avoiding the impending look of sympathy.  "She turns 16 in a couple months."

The silence by itself is good enough to tell me I've shocked him.  I guess
he's finally realising just how dark life can be.  Good.  No illusions here.
But rather than the apology that even my boss offered me, which floored me
considering he's a rotten asshole, Jinn sets his hand on top of my own and
says nothing.

Of all the people…

"Is there anything that I can do to help?"

Now it's my turn to forget to blink.  "Shit, Jinn, you're joking, right?"

Those blue eyes are staring into mine.  "Not at all."

No, Dare, stop.  Do this and he'll be so deeply mired in your business that
you won't know where you end and he begins, outside of the obvious sexual
implications.  It's a damned tempting offer; when I was growing up, a hero
would have been useful to keep the shit down, but now, I dunno.  The term
"roadblock" keeps haunting me.

But out of all the people in the galaxy I can honestly say there is no one
else I would let near my sister, not like this.

"You have two weaknesses, Dare.  The unfortunate killing of that Jedi and
your sister.   He's long since given back to the Force and you know that I
won't hurt her."

"Wrong."

"Oh?"  His eyebrow is arched, he knows he's right.  Well, mostly.

"I have three weaknesses."

And now that eyebrow is really arched.  "Oh?"

Just admit it and get over it.  "1—that kid.  2—sister.  3—you and Ben."

That's when the silence truly descends over us.


*         *        *


"This isn't going to work."

Ben crosses his arms across his chest and shakes his head at me.  "You look
fine."

"The dress is fine, but how the hell are we supposed to get inside without
being obvious?"

Once again I get the head shake.  Gonna hurt that boy.  "That's why we're
dressing appropriately and have the invitations.  Coria knows to expect us
and will introduce as 'an interested party' in their trading."

This must be the Jedi version of brilliant plans.  Sitting down on the bed
in their pathetically small flat, sliding my boots back on, I straighten the
hems of the dress.  It's one of those slinky things, cutting off just before
my knees and clinging to my frame.  The emerald green colour is surprisingly
nice, never thought of wearing it, but, of course, this is the boys' idea.

At least it doesn't clash with the knee high, black, knife concealing, two
inch heel boots.

"Obi-Wan, you remember what to do, right?"

Ben averts his eyes from my legs.  "Yes, Master.    I'm to watch Nekaih and
make sure he doesn't do anything tonight."

Jinn nods and then gives me a significant look.  "Yes, and we'll take care
of his friends, maybe find someone on the inside to get some information
from."

"Oooooh, can we rough them up, big Jedi man?"

Great, now I'm being stared at. "No, we can't."

The term "babysitter," is leaping to mind.  Standing up and intentionally
bending over to fetch the remainder of my gear, I wait a few minutes to
share my opinion of the whole thing.  "So, your brilliant plan is to mingle
with -everyone- in that building and hope he doesn't hit the little red
button, right?"

I don't even have to look at them to know that they're squirming over that.
Ben's voice says it all, "Well, that's part of it, but yes."

"When the time is right he'll be taken into custody," Jinn quickly adds.
Little details, huh?

"In public?  With his asshole lackeys about?  That's great, why don't you
just ask him up front where he hid the weapon?"

"Obviously you have a better idea."

Obviously, but that one I'm not telling them.  "Yes.  Let me at him, I'll
corner him, pry some information out of him and then leave him clinging to
life just enough to stand trial.  How's that?"

Jinn takes a step towards me, and his hand lands on my back.  There's no
harshness there, and because of it I won't whip around and knock him away.
Backing up and straightening slowly, I can't help but smile when I catch
Jinn's breath catch slightly.  Sexual power is a wonderful thing.

Leaning down to set his face near mine, that beard of his tickling my
cheekbone, he quietly says, "I'm not letting you alone with him, but you
will get the chance to help us."

The best I can manage is an indignant huff.  If I can't ditch them for at
least a while I have problems.  "Fuckin' overjoyed, Jinn, but at least -try-
to not cramp my style."

Ben coughs behind us.  Yeah, my thought, too.   Turning around and briefly
facing Jinn, having to look up to meet his eyes, I poke his chest with a
finger.  "Come on, boys.  If I hafta do it your way, lemme get it over
with."


*        *          *


I was expecting something swank and snobbish, ya know, marble and gold and
shit, bunch of instruments and men in boring suits, low voices and hand
kissing.

What we walked into, however, rivals some underground raves I've been to.
The music is loud, pounding and giving me all kind of wicked ideas.  The
people, well, it took me a few minutes to realise that they're politicians.

Never saw a party leader type bumping and grinding like that with a girl
half his age.  Not in public, anyways.

I spot Mefret immediately.  Giving him a wicked grin just as Jinn walks up
behind me, I catch the guy gulp and look around nervously, to which I wave
and lick my lips.

Unfortunately the smile fades as soon as I spot Fruity mingling with another
group of partiers, drink in hand and laughing raucously.

One shot, that's all I need…

"Coria's this way," Jinn says leaning down to my ear.  Oh, man, he's trying
to get to me, I know it.  Seduce you to distract you, that's the ploy
apparently, and for the moment I'll play along.

But Fruity's ass is still mine.

Ben walks up behind us, and quickly turns to face Jinn.  "Nekaih is over
there, Master.  I guess I'll disappear into the crowd and watch him."  He
pauses and gives me a half glance, like he wants to say something more,
hell, maybe protest his boring part of the job, but stops and stands there
like a puppy.

"That's fine, Obi-Wan.  If there's trouble, let me know."  And with that
Jinn slips a hand around my waist and guides me into the milling crowd
towards a pack of uniformed half-drunks.

I really need to teach these two how to blend in.

Approaching the little group, I pause, and Jinn nearly slams right into me.
Something's wrong here.  Resisting the instinctive urge to go for the
blaster tucked between my thighs, I half turn, trying to look as if I'm
getting fresh on the tall one.  "Not these guys, no fucking way."

Apparently he catches on, tightening his grip and dragging me closer.  Okay,
I can live with this… "There's something not right with them."

"You're perceptive Jinn. " I respond snidely.  "They've got 'bad ass'
written all over them, and besides, the third one on the left is a personal
enemy of my boss. Nasty motherfucker."

His surprise goes to show that he wasn't expecting this little reunion, not
that I was.  "Mother fucker?"

I try not to laugh.  That would be bad, but the word just doesn't sound
right coming from his mouth.  Using his grip on me, I pivot and move away
from the group, spotting a hallway and a pair of security type goons.
"Yes, but we've never actually confirmed -that- rumour, not that I'd want
to."

"Neither would I, frankly."

Two points for him.  "Good answer."

The guards in front of us stir a little, and I break away from Jinn, putting
on my best you-know-you-want-me face.  Closing in on the cuter of the pair,
I lean forward to give him an extra glance at my chest.  "Hi, I was
wondering if there were any, like, private rooms, I, well, he and I," I lick
my lips and wink at this point, "could borrow?"

The guard stares for a moment, but not before taking an ample look down the
dress.  Asshole.  With a quick survey of Jinn, who's doing that heroic
stance thing in the black clothes, he meets me in the eyes and his face
curls up in a dirty smile.  "Third conference room, door's unlocked.
Cleaning guy's getting more supplies."

I reach into the bustier I'm wearing underneath the dress and withdraw a
single bar of latinum so that the guard can only see, to which his eyes
widen.

"Make sure we're not disturbed, okay?"

Without a single conference with his colleague, the guard nods and takes the
bar.  "Absolutely."

Men are so easy.

By the time I get back to Jinn and continue the act by leaning bodily
against him, acting as if I'm murmuring something scandalous, I answer his
silent question with "Come on, we've got privacy and a set of lock picks.
Let's 'gather' some information."

Surprisingly, he accepts and as I lead back into the hallway, intentionally
swaying my hips back and forth for the sake of the ogling guards, I take in
the surroundings.

No windows, but the ceilings have those nifty internal fixtures.  The floor
is dark wood, the walls light and slightly rough in texture with the same
dark wood serving as doorframes.

Oh yah, you can smell the money here.

The music isn't easing up, either.  It's almost offensively loud in the back
where there isn’t the din of talking crowds, and I catch Jinn wincing at it
when a new song blares out, the crash of a cymbal resembling glass breaking.

"Shit.  I guess they can't detect any odd noises 'round here."

"Obviously not."

Something moves a little further down the hall; I can see the shadow casting
across the floor.

Luckily, so does Jinn.

Sweeping up to push me against a wall, my back pressed into textured
plaster, I raise an eyebrow at him.  "This your idea of low-key, hmm?"

"Yes."

Somehow I expected a better answer, but for the moment I'll yield.  Why the
hell not?  He's warm, solid and the feeling of those strong male hips so
close to mine again is just enough to distract me for a little while.  One
of his hands moves across my shoulder to rest palm down on the plaster,
partially blocking me from the impending passerbys, but I can still see the
long shadows looming closer.

With my luck, it's Nekaih and lackeys, and I'll have to sacrifice a
perfectly good opportunity for the sake of the stallion pinning me.

Jinn's eyes suddenly lock on mine.  Oh, shit, has he caught the edge of one
of my thoughts again?  I gotta get better at this crap…  "We've got
trouble."

I blink for a half-second.  Trouble is an awfully broad term.  "Trouble
trouble or fucked beyond belief trouble?"

He -almost- grins.  "Somewhere in between.  Follow my lead, if you would."

"What the hell do you know that I don—"  My words, genuinely confused, are
cut off as his free hand death wraps around my waist, hauling me up so that
we're face to face as he effectively cuts off my question with a kiss.

And what a fucking kiss.  This is play acting!?!

Happily sinking into the feeling, I almost miss the very people we're trying
to deceive… and holy shit, I think I've found the definition of the term "do
not meet in a dark alley."

Three of them, dressed in various colours, wearing uniforms with -spikes.-
Real spikes, not the piddly shit that people wear in compensations of teeny
wankers.  And I'm not even going to try and describe their faces.   Whatever
they are, they ain't humanoid and they ain't nice.

By the time I can get a look at the back of them, I'm almost past caring.
Jinn's hand, formerly resting against the wall, is tangled in my hair and
we're both fairly engrossed.  His other hand has somehow managed to slip
down my waist, down my leg and up my thigh…

"Jinn… "

Somewhere at my neck I get a muffled "Yes?" in response.

"They probably have some information we could use."

"Or they could tear us to shreds for looking them in the eyes."

"That's a good—nnnnnngggghhh."

Jinn chuckles at me, raising his head to place light kisses over my face.
"Distracted, Dare?"

Obviously he's referring to the hand that has discovered the thong I put on
under the dress.  "You could say that."

He takes my mouth again, aggressively, working that deft tongue of his past
my lips.

All of a sudden I'm flashing back to that club, and I can't say I'm sad.  I
like it when he loses control.

Using the fact that I'm being held without any effort of my own, I slide a
free hand down his chest, loose the black shirt from his belt and play my
fingernails across his bare chest.  My response is a slight growl that
catches in his throat, which incites me the rest of the way.

Fuck the play acting, I'll go for the real thing… but an idea strikes me.
"Oh, Jinn… "

His eyes meet mine again and they're darkened. Oooh, I like this.  "Yes?"

"Third conference room, unlocked door."

"Long table."

Good boy, he's catching on.  "Long table."

Now the scary thing is that I think it takes us only a few minutes to find
said room and said table.  Hopping up on the edge, I half expect him to be
between my thighs and working the pair of us into a rather nice lather;
however, he sets a large hand on each of my thighs, pauses to register my
expression and smiles.  I smile back, but at this point why try to act
otherwise?  I have no idea what he's up to.

At which point he slides me fully to the edge, kneels down and slides nimble
fingers up the sides of my skirt to pull the flimsy panties off me.

Holy shit.

By the time he's managed to work them past the top of my boots, a miracle
considering I've never been able to do that myself, I'm snaking my hands
past his and latching them around that belt, working the black leather free,
but he stops me, batting my hands away as if I were some annoying pest.

"What?"

He takes a single step forward, wedging himself between my knees, tracing a
finger down my forehead past my nose and placing it on my lips.  "Think you
can keep from screaming?"

Um, this is odd…  "Yeah, and I can also do a fair interpretation of a Wookie
war cry."

He chuckles and shakes his head, kneeling down very slowly, using the
lowered perspective to sweep by my face and give me a teasing, the bastard,
light kiss.

Apparently the following noise gives it all away, because his hand settles
on my shoulder, and begins to slide down my front, using the low cut top to
tickle bare breast with his fingertips.

Oh, man… already I'm putty in his hands… this is pathetic… and addicting…

"If I promise to not scream," I grate out, refusing to admit just how wet I
am,  "will you stop teasing me?"

There's a half-smile on his face.  Dammit, he already knows what he's doing
to me.  "I've only just begun to… "

I groan.  This may be a ploy to distract me.  Ben's probably off being a
hero, and here I am being held as a sexual captive to Jinn.

Um… where's the bad part again?

Bringing me back and gaining my rapt attention, Jinn eases his hands up my
skirt, pushing it up once more, and one hand releases the blaster
effortlessly from its holster, his thumb sliding over bare nether flesh.

Nnnnnnggggghhhh.

He must be a pro at this; in seconds the blaster is on the table behind me,
his hands are at my waist and he's working very intoxicating kisses and
nibbles down my front until he's literally on his knees and between my legs.

Oh, please gods, tell me I'm not dreaming, otherwise I'm going to be one
fucking pissed assassin…

"You're not dreaming, Dare."

I blink.  "Get out of my head, Jinn."

He looks up at me and I can't help but shiver.  Now this is a sight to
remember.  "I wasn't, technically.  You're thinking very loud."

I decide to take a chance, I mean, I can feel his breath tickling across my
inner thigh and I can't quite fight the knots quickly forming in lower
muscles.  Using my free hands and tangling one in his long hair and the
other to claw at the table, I use my hand strength to push him right up
against me, the tip of his nose briefly hitting my clit.  Man oh man.  It's
taking every iota of my will to -not- make a sound

And that's when he goes down on me.


******************


I've begun to notice that I have this whole problem with making promises to
these Jedi.  First, Ben uses sex to make me promise I won't kill Fruity and
then Jinn makes me promise to not scream during sex.

Yeesh.

And considering he's now got me pinned to the smooth wooden surface, his
hands holding my hands above my head, my legs very wrapped around his waist,
I'm now finding it difficult to keep the latter promise.  Out of all the
things I've done, I've never tried this, and to be honest, this is pretty
damned pleasant.  Fucking pleasant, in fact.

Leaning down, arching his back and inciting a fight to see who can grab a
hold of whose lower lip, I notice the sheen of sweat laying on Jinn's
forehead, and when he moves away from my teeth, I snatch the opportunity to
extend my tongue and let it slide between his brow.

His response, interestingly enough, nearly sends me across the table, but
the overhead grip of my hands holds me there.  I bite my lip, rolling my
eyes back in my head a little as his thrust finds a sorely neglected spot
inside me.   Yanking a hand against his restraint, I turn fingernails in on
him, digging the points into a palm.

I almost miss the wince, but one hand loosens enough to let me break free.
Deftly extending fingers right into the tangled mane, I haul his face to
mine and end the debate over what he can do with his mouth with a
penetrating kiss.

He growls at me, I can feel it rumble in his throat.    One of his feet
shift and I shudder as his hips rock mine at a fresh angle, causing an
immediate reaction of friction and my muffled whimper as clitoral nerves
scream in barely restrained agony.  He senses this, obviously, and speeds
his pace, using my own clenching muscles to raise his own climax.

You know, if it weren't for the fine craftsmanship of this table, I think
the legs would have given out a while ago.

Accidentally snapping down on his tongue with my teeth, I shut my eyes and
feel an involuntary shudder as the orgasm strikes me, and strikes damn hard,
my feet tightening at his waist and the waves stripping my senses away for
precious seconds.

But I won't scream.  No, no, no, I won't.

One of his hands finds mine again and tightens around my fingers, squeezing
them together, and the little moan betrays him…

Until he freezes where he, ah, "stands" and lets loose a string of curses,
some of which -I- have never heard.

"Um, Jinn?"  I manage to say, despite my panting for breath.

He's holding totally stock still and despite the fact that his gaze is in my
general direction, his eyes are unfocused.  Freeing my hand almost
apologetically, he finally meets my glance.

"Why the hell did you stop and what's up?"  Yes, I know, but we all have our
priorities.

"Obi-Wan," he mutters.

This earns a raised eyebrow from the girl indecorously splayed out on the
table.  "What about him?"

"I think he just killed Nekaih."

Now, give me credit for actually being able to understand the language he's
speaking at this point, but the meaning takes a few second to sink in.

When it does, however, I lurch up.  "WHAT!?!"

His response to my reaction is an arched eyebrow, however neither of us have
made an effort to move apart.   He nods slowly, and I catch him sighing
heavily.  "He killed Nekaih."

Now, given my physical closeness to Jinn and the fact that he's getting way
too good at picking up on my train of thought, I hiss through my teeth and
refrain from the string of disgruntled words rising from the depths of my
mind.  He was supposed to be mine!   It was my JOB to do what Ben just did!
Damage control… spin doctoring…  fuck, now I have to get fancy… fuck!

The next words from Jinn, still unmoving and still inside me, are a
strained, somewhat unhappy, "We better go check on him."

I huff and cross my arms across my chest.  "Why?"

"Well… " He pauses.  I get the distinct impression that he isn't planning to
say what he's going to, but he will anyways.  "Unless you want to risk life
and limb in the backlash, I suggest we get you up the roof so if there are
witnesses, you'll have a decent shot of being able to take credit."

Did I just hear that right?  "Jinn?"

"Unless you intend die at the hands of your boss… "

Holy shit, he's doing what I think he's doing.  "You're covering for me."

"Yes."

"You're covering.  For me."

He leans down and kisses my forehead, murmuring, "Yes, I know, huge fucking
shock, isn't it?"

Once again, there are some words this man should not say, and because of
that I start laughing.  I can't help it, its just too weird.
"Jinn—hahaha—please, please don't say tha—hahah-- that."

He quirks his head to the side and uses a firm grip to shift me closer to
the edge of the table so I can swing my legs down.  "Say what?"

Still chucking, the tears sitting on my cheeks as I sit upright, I
reluctantly slip free from his still stiff member.  "'Fuck,' Jinn.  It just
doesn't sound right from you."

With a grunt he lets me walk, rather unsteadily at first, away from him to
try and pull my skirt from around my waist.  "It's just a word."

"Bollocks."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And that starts another fit of laughter as I turn to stare at him, hooking a
finger at the hallway.  "Come on, potty mouth, let's go find Ben."

And just when I had the fit under control, I catch him trying to adjust the
cloth pants so that it isn't painfully obvious at what was interrupted.
This sends me into spasms, nearly doubling over, to which I get a hand at my
shoulder ignomiously pushing me out the door.

By the time the brevity wears off and we’ve managed to climb some five odd
sets of staircases, I stop suddenly, spotting a rambling employee or guest.

Much to my surprise, Jinn stops right up behind me, and I notice that he's
still, ah, pointy.  With a roll of the eyes and a glance down the occupied
access way, I shove him to the corner of the staircase where the shadows are
particularly deep and immediately undo the fly of his pants.

"What are you doing?"

I roll my eyes again.  "Taking care of something before you bruise my back."

"But… "

Raising a hand and latching onto his neck, I haul his face down so I won’t
strain my neck, the other hand immediately working to take a firm grip of
his shaft, using my own lingering wetness to work curled fingers up and
down.   Just when he tries to make a noise I bite on his lower lip just hard
enough to remind him who's got the leash, and kneel down.  Licking my lips,
I try my damnedest to remember how to -not- choke.

I mean, come on, people swallow swords as a hobby, but I never quite saw the
similarity between
fellatio and eating long knives until now.

With a lick of my lips and a throat relaxing swallow, I take his length into
my mouth and feel him immediately fall back against the wall, the sensation
of my mouth and the feel of my tongue running along the underside of his
cock, hitting very sensitive nerves, nearly making him come right then and
there.

Well, it's understandable; however, since I have to make this fast and can't
answer my own body's request to sate him by knocking him to the floor and
saddling him is making the fact that I forgot to slip my panties back on all
the more torturous.  Very carefully, knowing full well that this is not the
time for experimentation, I use the very edges of incisors, grazing the
malleable flesh all the way up to his tip, and with a disturbingly fast move
I find his hand at the back of my head, pushing me back down on him.

His voice is just this side of a growl.  "Dare… "

I chuckle to myself and oblige him, using a hand to cup and fondle his
balls, bobbing my head up and down a few times like a bird and then
stopping, moving achingly slow, intentionally working him up.  His hand
tightens at my scalp and I can feel the slight shake in his legs.

Oh, man, if he loses his balance, I'll be squished.  Oh well, there are
worse ways to die.

Using my tongue to flick across the tip, I know that's it for him.  With a
final, full inhalation of male flesh, I nearly choke myself and pull back
just in time to taste his hot seed pour down my throat and I swallow
willingly, ignoring the slight tickle.

His hand eases at my scalp and I wait a few moments, easing away, slipping
up his front and using a hand to delicately put the relaxing member back and
closing the pants.

I can't help but grin, considering the look I'm getting.  Now -he- knows
what its like to be the catnipped kitty.  "Let's go get Ben."

He nods and follows.  Climbing the rest of the way in silence, it's not 'til
we hit the roof until either of us says anything to the other, not that we
need to.  Flinging the door open with a shove, I step into the cold night
air and scan the roof.

At least it's flat and easy to see everything from.

Standing back near one of the edges is Ben, sitting on the solid cement, his
back against the raised berm, his head slightly lowered.  Without realising
it, I give Jinn a concerned look, and he nods, "He'll be fine."

"He better be," I manage and cut across the roof, coming up to the edge and
peering over the side to survey the damage.

Despite the height I'm looking from, I can see the body below and there's
really no question that Fruity's dead.  No sentient being, no matter how
good his joints are, can be in that position and not be screaming in agony.
Guessing from the distance he fell, also, I'm guessing I can't see the
impact damage to the sidewalk, nor the gore that's bound to be spilling
about the body.

Not that I like that shit or anything, just part of the job to know what to
expect.

I can hear the boys just to the side of me.  Jinn is speaking quietly and I
can hear Ben responding, but its weird, it doesn't sound like him.  Taking a
final look down at the mess, I turn around and kneel down next to Jinn,
setting a hand on Ben's shoulder and leaning up to nuzzle him.

His response is half hearted, considering, and I give a deferential glance
to Jinn, who meets my eyes and gives me the unmistakable look of
don't-push-him.

It's at that point I understand the dynamics of this superhero duo a bit
better.  They're not just master and apprentice, there's this bond, like a
family thing, the kind of bond I've only ever known with my sister.

Of course, and I guess everyone is a bit different with their
interpretation, sis and me have never shared a man.

I sigh and push my luck.  Sot their caution, I want to make sure Ben's not
pulling Catatonia Boy on me. Extending a hand and turning Ben's head so I
can look into those blue-green eyes, I open my mouth to give a quick "it's
not your fault, shit happens" speech, but I stop for some dumb ass reason
and manage a less than illuminating "Thank you."

A moment transpires between us and I think he gets it.  Shit.  But rather
than being reviled, something apparently clicks and a little warmth returns
to his pallour.  "You kept your promise."

I shake my head.  This is so incredibly fucking complex now.  "Yes, I did."

I can practically feel Jinn nodding in quiet assent.

The sudden impression of being a Jawa caught in the headlights of an
oncoming speeder strikes me.

So much for being able to leave this job unencumbered.


*          *        *


The next few days are illuminating.  I don’t see the boys very often, I'm
too busy tying up the other ends of this job, like the task of retrieving my
fee.

What scares the fuck out of me is that without Jinn compelling us to go to
the roof and establish an alibi, I never would have gotten said fee.  Upon
greeting Mefret at his private flat at a very late hour, he immediately
thanked me and decided to point out that with the help "of an accomplice" I
successfully stopped the weapon from killing anyone and made his life much
easier.

He even added a rather nice stack of coinage, perfect for home, to the piece
of plastic that counts for Republic credits.  Nice bonus for something I
didn't do.

However, in my own defence, I don't feel guilt about it. Well, why the hell
should I?  Yes, Ben did the legwork of chasing Fruity up the stairwell and
over the edge, but I did actually have influence in it, though in the final
condemning truth I'd have to admit otherwise.

But Jedi aren't known for their lust for profit, anyways, not that they
appear to need it.  That Temple of theirs seems to provide them everything
in life.

Well, except the company of a particularly loud-mouthed, aggressive assassin
that they can’t seem to get rid of.

Shaking my head at myself, finding this mental tirade too much like the
others of recent days, I sling my packed bag over my shoulder and drop the
key to the door in the landlord's hand, taking a final glance at the flat to
embed certain carnal images in my memory.


*           *             *


"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?  You're not bound to him
like I—"

Setting a finger to his lips, I shush Ben before he can say it.  Stretching
out and using his leg to take care of an itch on the bottom of my foot, I
give into the gentler honesty that has taken over me when I'm around one or
both of them.  "Yeah, right, Ben.  Firstly, I can't just walk away,
otherwise I'd have been off Krack Ass as soon as I collected my fee.
Secondly, and if you forget this I'll kick your ass," I wrap a hand around
his braid and tug significantly, "this is not a mark of enslavement.  If it
was, he wouldn't have given a shit about you when he saw you on that roof."

"I know."

"Not well enough, apparently."

"You were worried too."

I give up.  They can figure out what's going on in my head, though it's not
a hundred percent thing, thank the gods.     "Very.  I like you too much to
let you go all wiggy on me."

His mouth curls up a little and he shifts, rocking up on an elbow to rest on
his side.  I raise an eyebrow as he moves the hem of the loose beige pants
partially off his hip, scratching absently at a slight red mark.   "Dare,
you know that they might kill you for this."

"Yeah, well, life is short, and after all the stuff I've been doing with you
and Jinn, I'd say I could die a happy girl."

The eyes lock on mine, concerned.  "That's not meant to be funny."

Ugh, sense of humour, ill timed and with the wrong audience.  "I know.  So,
you two can't come with?"

Ben is slow to answer, like he knows he wants to but can't no matter how
bad.  "Not this time.  You can ride with us to Coruscant, but after that
you're stuck with going home and facing your boss alone."

I poke him in the chest.  "Somehow I doubt that.  Since the pair of you, I
swear my head is filled with all this weird shit, like echoes of you or
something."

Ben nods.  "There is that, and its not quite echoes, but what I meant is
that we can’t be there to help you kick ass if there's a fight."

Great, he's talking about physical presence and I assume he meant that Force
of theirs.   Nice blunder on my part.  "Oh."

And apparently he catches this realisation of my misinterpretation.
Slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer, he moves to lay
partially on top of me.  "So, can we visit?"

Hmmmm... there's a tough choice.   Using an ankle to hook around his calf, I
scoot further underneath him and grin.  "If you don't, I'll hunt you down
and kill you for fun."

He laughs, a great sound to hear after having that crestfallen expression
burned behind my eyes.  Kissing me first, he raises a hand and declares
dramatically:

"If I'm ever on Tatooine, I promise to see you."


***********************



"I've never seen you in anything but black."

Considering that's a compliment, I'll bite my tongue.  "Yeah, except for
that dress, not that it seemed to stay on long."

From behind me I get a chuckle and a hand slips up to wrap around my waist,
playing with the hem of my desert pants, fingers slipping under the loose
tunic.  "I remember."

It's a nice change to be going home like this.  Thanks to the apparent pull
of their Temple, I'm heading back to the great sand ball in the sky in a
Republic Cruiser, which is, at the moment, being piloted by Ben.

I guess it's better than air taxi school.

"So, Jinn, whaddya going to tell your bosses?"

"They're a Council, not 'bosses.'"

"So whaddya going to tell your boss-like Council?  All the juicy details?"

I guess he finds it humorous, because Jinn leans his head down and nuzzles
the top of my head.  "Not quite.   Somehow the appropriateness of pinning
you to a conference table while Obi-Wan pursues the reason we were there
might be lost on Master Yoda."

I grin.  My bosses would consider the conference table a trophy.  "Aaaaaw,
doesn't he like sex?"

There's a strangling sound from behind me.  "Dare, if you knew who I was
talking about, you wouldn't put him and sex in the same sentence."

"What, he's little, green and wrinkly?"

I think I just startled him.  "Um, yes, exactly."

And I think I just grossed myself out.  Shaking my head and catching my last
glance of Krack Ass, I walk away from Jinn and dig into my bag.  I'm not
sure what I'm looking for, but its there and I'll be damned if I can't find
it.

What the fuck am I doing?  This is so not me.  Throwing up my hands and
stalking down the hall, I leave Jinn behind and head… to anywhere where he
isn't.

I have to think.  This isn’t good.  I've already given up a good part of a
life I had going, and now I can see it warping more.

I do not do romance.  I am not caving to the thumpity-thump of emotions.
I'm allergic to Corellian roses, I got rug burns from satin sheets once and
for me, chocolate isn’t romantic, it's a basic staple of life.

Besides, the only thing I love is myself, and sometimes I even question
that.

And, on top of it all, I have to go home.  Home.  That's a whole different
world of difficulties.  On an alien planet I can handle being seen with
Jedi, but in Eisley I'm well known and so are they.

Jedi and assassins are -not- supposed to get along.  Especially there.  The
first time I get spotted there, whether it be two days or two months from
now, with one or both of the boys I'll lose everything I've worked for.

But they're right.  They could help my sister.

But what the fuck am I supposed to say to my boss?  'Dear boss, sir, love
the work, love the money, but I gotta quit because I got shagged six ways by
a pair of do-gooders who convinced me my skills have better use.'

That would be the point where I would be laughed at and then be given, minus
a few organs, to the Hutts for their version of punishment.

And believe me, that ain't a nice thing.  I hate giant intestinal parasites.

The hallways of a Republic vehicle look the same.  I think I've successfully
paced myself right onto the bridge, and despite my better judgment, I don't
turn around and leave before I spot the pilot's seat.

Fuck.  "Hey Ben."

He seems pleasantly surprised to see me and waves with a free hand.  "Need
something, Dare?"

"Yeah, an excuse to forget about you boys."

Rather than unpleasant shock, he nods and hits a button that I'm guessing is
the autopilot.  "I was wondering the same thing about explaining you to my
friends."

"Tight asses?"

"No," he starts, cracking a sudden grin, "but the Council is."

I laugh despite myself.  Hey, I got one of them to admit the label.  "So
who's Yoda?"

Ben quirks his head and pivots the seat to face me as I sit down on the edge
of the control panel.  "What about Yoda?"

"Green, little and wrinkly?"

"He talks weird, too."

I raise an eyebrow.  They really need to get out more…  "Explain something
to me."

"What?"

"Why?"

He shrugs.  "Why not?"

I sigh.  He's right, dammit.  It's not like I have to explain my actions to
anyone. But…  "Piece of advice."

He pivots the chair back a little and somehow turns off the little red light
that starts to flash on the panel.  Hmm, I don’t know if I like Republic
ships after all.  They have too many warning lights.  If the ship has to
blow up, I think I'd rather not know so I won't be scared shitless
beforehand.

"Yes, Dare?"

"Listen to yourself.  I don't care how important that Council thing is, if
they give you shit about something you value, fuck them.  They don't know
what they’re missing."

He opens his mouth to say something but stops, crossing his arms over his
chest.

Damn, but he looks good like that.  Edible.

"You're probably right."


*     *      *


One would think that in my attempt to banish the boys from my mind, I would
tuck myself into a nice warm place and forget about them.

However, caught on a medium sized ship with three crewmembers, two droids
and two Jedi, I get the distinct impression that there's no way to hide, so
I give up.

At least I have welcoming arms I can crawl into.

"Where are you?"

Butting my head against Jinn's, I suppress the smile.  "Right here.  You
know, it’s too bad you won't let Ben off duty.  I'm in the mood for a proper
good-bye and it'd be a damn shame for him to miss out."

The large hands at my waist tighten and he pulls me further up his lap,
using the angle to whisper near my ear in an intentionally teasing tone.
"You'll see us again."

"You better.  The pair of you have ruined me, you know?  I have to go back
home and face former friends who I used to enjoy and inform them that their
techniques have been put to shame by a pair of heroic pain in the butts."

I can see the embarrassed pride in his eyes.  "It's not like we've been
trained in sexual methods… "

I laugh, shifting a little.  I'm very close to his groin and despite the
fact that he seems well controlled, I have the dire urge to straddle him.
"It's not about that.  Most men like to involve women in their getting off
because this," I take one of his hands and set it between my legs, ignoring
the shudder as his fingers brush over my folds, "is better feeling than
their own hand.  The good men know this, but also make sure the woman is
enjoying herself.  You, and the other prime choices, go out of your way to
make sure the woman is well pleased and unwilling to stop just because the
man has already gotten his come-uppings.  Training or not, that's why you've
ruined me.  So there."

Apparently, this was an invitation.  Curling fingers inward, I can feel his
hand sliding back and forth over me.   Even through the fabric of the pants
I think it’s a safe bet that he knows that I'm wet.

My hand drifts up his chest and around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
He doesn't resist, but rather takes the opportunity to force his tongue past
my lips as I arch my hips against his hand.

Breaking off suddenly, he grins at me.  "Do you trust me?"

I squint at him.  Maybe he missed that part of the speech about being able
to please a woman…  "It depends."

His eyes are twinkling with mischief.  What the hell is he up to?  "Just…
feel… "

Trying to say something, my next question is cut off with a moan.  He
couldn't have done that, he hasn't moved… but I'm not imagining this… holy
shit.

I drop my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and biting my lip. His
actual hand slips away, but what's left is best described as a ghost hand,
except it's not burdened by the fact that I'm still wearing clothes.  The
tendrils of manipulated air caress in between my labia, moving circles over
my clit and then sliding down to trace my opening.

"Oh sweet Boonta Jinn, I—"

His beard tickles across my cheek.  "Ssssh."

Continuing to play across engorged flesh, the ghost fingers match the rising
tumult of ardour, striking nerves expertly and making my breath catch.
Teasing away for a moment but still there, I open my eyes just in time to
let slip a very guttural moan as the "fingers" slip inside me, feeling as if
it was Jinn himself penetrating me.

Arching my hips up, feeling my legs try to give out, the ghost fingers pump
in and out, hitting deeply buried spots and rubbing against my walls.

Pulling my head off his shoulder, setting hands gently on my cheeks and
pulling me against him, he embraces me in a mind numbing kiss, swallowing my
cries as the orgasm washes over me, my legs tightening around him as I
shudder hard.

Right now, I'm amazed I can breathe.

I hardly notice that the ghost hand has been replaced by real flesh, and as
Jinn releases my head, I fall back against a smiling Ben.  Kissing my
forehead, he murmurs.  "Sorry I'm late."

I'm blinking hard.  I'm still a bit dazed and the waves quite frankly are
still sending oft forgotten muscles into delightful spasm.  "You know, maybe
I shouldn't knock that Force thing," I manage, my voice breathy and low.

Jinn chuckles underneath me.  "It's good for many things, wouldn't you say?"

"Mmmm-hmm."

"Our ETA to Coruscant is three hours.  I'd say," Ben leans down, tickling
his moist lips across the back of my neck, "that leaves us enough to time to
prepare for the Council meeting, freshen up and to give you, Dare, enough of
a ménage to keep you sated for a while after we have to leave."

Sounds good to me, but who says I want them out of my claws?  "Feel free to
make me unable to walk."

Ben's lips wander down the hem of my shirt and his hands slide up under the
tunic, his fingers caressing across hardened nipples.  "Sounds like a good
goal."

Don't ask me what really happened next.  All I know is that I'm first
leaning very heavily against  Ben's strong chest and then I'm being picked
up, except somehow I've been turned around and my legs have obligingly
wrapped around Ben's waist.

Working over my neck, I can hear his voice murmuring against my skin.  "You
know something?"

Other than the fact that all I want is my soaked panties off so you boys
have better access? "Hmm?"

"I never thought, " he says a little closer to my ear, grazing it with his
teeth and then suckling on the lobe, "that I would enjoy the link my Master
and I have so much."

I raise an eyebrow and notice that we seem to be heading in the direction of
the cabins.  "Oooh, really?"

"Yes."

Something to remember.  "Meaning he can feel this." Slipping a hand between
us, I reach past his belt and rub my palm across his crotch, noticing that
he's already hard.  "Yes?"

Ben grunts and spins, pinning me against a wall, his hips sliding up to meet
my wandering fingers.

From behind us, I hear a "Yes, I can."

Colour me entertained.

Knocking my hand away, Ben slips my legs off his waist and makes me stand,
quickly hooking his fingers around the fabric waists and yanking them down,
exposing me.  Letting the pale fabric pool to the floor, I kick off the legs
and once more find myself pinned between wall and Ben.  He pauses a moment
to slip his own pants down just enough to free himself, hooks one of my legs
back up around my waist and slams my back hard into the ship wall, devouring
my mouth hungrily.  With a deft hand movement he positions himself and
thrusts inside of me fully, immediately moving hard and fast, his hips
slamming into mine as his cock grinds against my inner walls.

This would probably be a good time to point out that I never felt that last
orgasm end.  My nerves are screaming and I'm responding the best I can to
Ben, both his mouth and his hips, but my head is swimming, I mean, I'm
already gasping again.

And when I open an eye to peer past Ben, I discover, with all heated
interest assuredly, that Jinn is in fact watching us.  Very closely.

I force the kiss to break with a genuine need for air, my head banging
against the wall. Closing my eyes, feeling my throat trying to betray me
with one of those screams I don't do, my fingers hook deadly sharp into
Ben's waist.  He growls and buries his face in my throat, nipping, suckling
and biting, all the while getting very rough, his hips grinding harder into
mine, nearly to the point of pain.

I inhale sharply and whimper, clenching my throat and every other muscle I
can still control as I climax, my desperate writhing against Ben causing
that last thrust and I feel him come, my vagina running slick with our
fluids intermingled.

Letting go of the flesh at my throat, rising up to kiss me, his probing
tongue is exploring my mouth and most likely tasting more than just my
saliva.  Still moving against him, his member still fully impaled, he hooks
his hands around my waist and pulls me off the wall, taking unsteady steps
towards the cabin.

By the time I hit the edge of the bed, he's stripped the tunic from me and
latched his mouth to a breast, working the same magick over it as he's just
done my throat. One of his hands slides down between us to rub torturous
circles over my clit, sliding fingers through the wet folds, his hips once
again moving against mine.  Catching Jinn crawl up to loom just over me, his
mouth finds mine and one of his hands finds the untouched breast, working
the nipple achingly hard between strong fingers.  I try to shift, but firmly
held down and unwilling to fight it, give into the sensations.

Still riding the edge, there's a muffled shout from Ben and he rolls his
hips up hard, making me gasp.  With a half shudder and sudden tightening of
his muscles, I feel him come once more, the hand he's placed at my neck
curling up into a very tight fist.

Jinn, letting me take a full, yet ragged, breath, licks up my chin and
catches my surprised expression.  "But he--"

He grins and uses his tongue to trace my lips and drift the top of my teeth,
pausing to murmur, "That would be my fault."

I laugh and reach hands up into Jinn's hair, tangling it in my fingers, but
he resists, his gaze briefly moving up as Ben withdraws and steps back a
little, staggering slightly and laying back on the bed.

I spot the sheen of sweat laying over his body, and feel the urge to lick
him head to toe; and the fact that his one leg is lazing slightly off the
bed is just making it worse.

Jinn's hand lands across my neck, sliding thoughtfully across my jaw.  "Move
him up the bed."

I shrug at him. Oookay, not sure what he's got planned, but I know what I
want to do.

Rolling over and sitting up on my knees, I stretch and rise to my hands and
knees, crawling over to press myself against Jinn, paying him back for the
hard kiss from earlier, nipping his lower lip, straying a hand across the
bed sheets until it lays between his legs, waiting a few precious seconds
before I slide my palm over him, eliciting a reaction from his body.

He jerks against my hand and I snicker into his mouth.  He may have pushed
Ben, but it isn't good enough to sate this man.  Lingering a little bit
longer, I wait until he's about to pull me against him and step back,
crawling over towards Ben and leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Your
head. Pillow.  Make it happen."

He stares at me looming over him and nods, a smirk playing up his cheek.
Moving slowly up with him, I wait until he leans back and drop my shoulders
down to run my tongue very slowly up his sternum, tickling through the light
chest hair.  I pause to taunt him with suckling kisses at each of his
nipples, watching him writhe underneath me, and continue my way back up.

Just as I play across his neck to tease his earlobe, I feel a hand touch my
back, and I arch languidly against it.  The grip tightens and I can feel the
fingers shift in a circle, running down the line of my spine to slide over
the lines of my ass until they dip between my cheeks to play at the well
used nether flesh.

Moaning lightly against Ben's neck, I rock against the hand, asking for
more.  But rather than obliging and slipping deft fingers inside, I'm left
with air.

That is, until I feel a distinctly fuzzy chin moving across the small of my
back, one of his hands sliding underneath to fondle a breast.  A warm thigh
brushes against mine and I feel Jinn lean fully against me, his hair
tickling my back.

Raising my head, giving Ben a wink, I partially turn my head and gyrate my
hips against the form behind me.  "Back for more?"

Leaning in to the movement, he slides down a little and I lick my lips as I
feel the length of his erection pressing into me.  Wiggling my ass against
him, spreading my legs somewhat, I hear his slight groan and the hand at my
breast moves away and wraps around a thigh.

His other hand falls back between my legs and caresses the wet flesh and
when I buck hard against it one of his fingers slides inside me briefly then
withdraws; then, with an achingly slow and torturous move, replaces his
finger with something infinitely more filling.

The breath I'm exhaling immediately warps to a moan, the fresh angle of
penetration turning my hands into grappling hooks in the bed sheets.
Starting very slow, almost to the point of pissing me off in my lack of
patience, he pushes back in… to the hilt.

I almost scream.  Even after the ghost hand and Ben, there are still some
parts of me not yet prepared for something like this.  Dropping my head to
Ben's chest, I feel his hands tangle in my hair and pull me to his face,
parting my lips in a kiss to distract me from the initial discomfort.

Discomfort that doesn’t last long.  Dissipating quickly, I find myself given
back over to my over-saturated hormones, responding heatedly to the steady
thrusts of the powerful stallion at my back.  A large hand hooks on the rise
of my hip, the other sliding underneath, running over my ribcage to find a
breast, working the tender flesh between strong fingers.

Easing from the mattress, one of my hands finds the long braid laid across
the pillow, entangling it in my fingers, using it keep grip of where I am.

On my knees, being split at the seams, kissing one man while another
penetrates me, on a Republic Cruiser, heading for home.

My life used to be so simple.

Feeling my self-control slipping, I arch my hips against Jinn, moving
counter to his own strong, bordering on forceful, thrusts.  Underneath me,
using scalp embedded hands to hold me down in a kiss, muffling my
increasingly staccato cries, Ben winces a bit when my hand pulls a little
too hard on his braid.

The hand on my hip tightens, and the other snakes around to curl at my
waist, pulling me back towards him.  Far from being able to fully fight him,
my muscles screaming for release, I let free my grip on Ben as he does me,
and I feel myself arched sharply backwards, my shoulders meeting Jinn's
chest, the murmuring groan catching in his throat vibrating near my ear.

I close my eyes and bite my lip.  Now I know what its like to teeter on the
edge of a one hundred metre cliff and have the urge to plunge down just to
feel the rush.   With a keening growl, I feel those masculine hips curve up
to meet mine one more time, and as I feel the hard bone of his pelvic girdle
strike mine, I squeeze my eyes shut as the climax washes over, the release
of vicious tension electric, the clenching of strong inner wall muscles
sending him off with a sound that in any other case would scare the hell out
of even me.

His grip below my ribcage releases suddenly, and I rock forward, falling
pleasantly into Ben's arms, his bare chest muffling the series of ragged
breaths coming from me.  Sweat on my brow and feeling utterly weak, Ben
gathers me to his body, stroking the hair out of my face.  Kissing my
forehead, the tip of my nose and finally my lips, he whispers "Sleep now and
remember."

I nod meekly and let my now freed lower half slip down to the bed, falling
into sleep with a smile on my face, a warm body underneath me and another
warm body curling up alongside.


*        *        *


Waking up about twelve hours later, curled around a pillow, I blink when a
hand shakes my shoulder.

"Madame?"

What the fuck is this about?  I was having a perfectly good sex induced
dream… "Um, yes?"

"We're about to land on Tatooine.  The Knights wished me to wake you before
we arrived."

Oh, its one of the crew.  They saw me with the boys and assumed; they
obviously have no idea what I am and that I have never, in my entire life,
been addressed as "madame."

"Thanks, I'll be ready to go shortly."

He nods and exits the room hurriedly, ignoring the fact that besides the
sheet tangled somewhere at my shoulderblades, I'm very nude and have
severely tousled hair.

Stretching slowly, enjoying the ache of well used muscles, I reach for the
glass on the bed stand and brush fingers across a stack of something cool
and solid.  Twisting to look and wrinkling my brow, I grab the datapad next
to the shiny stack and read it:

"This is to help you care for your sister and niece.  Until next."

I laugh quietly and count the stack of coin they left behind.  There's
enough there to cover a lot of needs, and adding what I made off Mefret's
fee, I'm more than set to do just that.

Hell, I'm set enough to buy a few assholes out of their businesses.

Pulling on my clothes and brushing through my hair, I wait for the ship to
land at one of the better landing pads, and, with a grin and a shake of the
head, walk a little funny down the ramp.

My eyes widen as a tan and red clad figure comes running up to me and
tackles me in a very full and strangling hug.

"Um, hi, Lily."

"Sis!!  It's good to see you!  How was the trip?  Any problems?  Did you
have fun?  Who'd you meet?  Cute guys?  Any cool stories?  Did you miss me?
Wanna hear what you missed here?"

Hauling away the figure and hiding the wince as leg muscles squeal in
protest, examining her with an authorative eye until she stops bouncing in
front of me, I crack a smile.  "Good to see you too, Lily.  Where's Kiri?"

"With Nat in Espa."

This is too convenient to be raw luck.  Wonder what the hell those boys did
when I was asleep.  "Good.  Got anything planned, kiddo?"

Lily stares at me, a little surprised.  "Nothing I can't change… "

Perfect.  "Alright, well, go back to that sinkhole and pack your things, we
can pick up Kiri once we get the new place."

"New place, Dare?"

"You heard me.  It's time to change a few things around here."

I swear I can hear them laughing at me half a galaxy away.


**********************
to be continued in the sequel, "Truth or Dare." comments welcome, flames
will be used to keep the two suns of Tatooine going a bit longer.



hugs to all,
Shana,
dpangel@thegrid.net