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“All right,” Mara said the second she walked into the Wild Karrde’s exercise room. Her hand went towards the lightsaber on her waist. “Which sequence?”
As brusque as she’d been, Luke couldn’t fail to notice the way she was holding her other arm or the way her presence in the Force sparked with carefully controlled pain.
He jutted his chin towards it, approaching her. “What’s with the arm?”
“Miscalculated some ranges. It’s nothing.”
She could only be referring to thermal detonator ranges, which made a tendril of unease wrap around him. Luke pushed it back with difficulty. He wanted to automatically send her to medbay, but then she’d be surly for days, and a more rational part of him that had been surfacing more and more niggled that it would be a good teaching opportunity.
“We'll leave the drills for later. A better use of the time would be going over healing techniques.” He took a seat on the mats.
Mara nodded, taking the spot next to him.
Luke gestured to her arm. “Let’s have it.”
She pulled up her sleeve to reveal where her arm was bandaged haphazardly with bacta patches. If he hadn’t seen it, if he hadn’t sensed the way she was shunting the pain aside through the Force, the way she grimaced and hissed even with the technique in place would have been enough to indicate it was not nearly as trivial as she’d made it sound.
“You know,” he began over the tight clench of his stomach as he saw the extent of the wounds. “You could have cancelled and gotten this looked at. When did you get back anyway?”
Mara sighed. “About an hour ago. I already had to cancel yesterday because of this New Republic thing,” she said as she carefully removed the patches.
“The Ka’Pa the Hutt thing? Doesn’t look like he was happy to see you.”
She smiled thinly. “Your name precedes you.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Me? What do I have to do with him? I hadn’t even heard of Ka’Pa until you told me. And no one outside of Karrde’s crew and Leia knows I’m here.”
“Nothing that concrete.” She gestured dismissively. “He looked at this,” her hand went to the lightsaber, “and immediately thought of dear old Jabba. Thought I was a Jedi, needed to be convinced to play nice.”
“Well, every day you’re one step closer, so he’s not that off the mark. Tell me the details later.” He scooted forward to look at her arm. “Let’s work on this. You’re familiar with the basics of healing?”
“Not really. Mostly managing pain.” She shrugged. “Staying power.”
“How’s your anatomy knowledge these days?”
She furrowed her brow. “Pretty good. Why?”
“Because the idea is to help the natural process. This works best if you know what you’re looking for at a deeper level. These are all stopgap measures,” he continued. “If the wound is bad enough the best bet is a healing trance.”
“Stuff like this?” She gestured to her arm.
“Tricky. A healing trance would probably be best, if you had the time for it. Otherwise, you risk overextending yourself.”
The corner of Mara’s lip quirked. “I thought the Force was limitless.”
“It is. But we are not.” He smiled at her. “But presuming you need to take care of this and can’t afford a healing trance, this technique could be helpful.”
He lifted a hand towards her and she leaned forward until his fingers were at her temple. He threaded the training bond, noting with wonder the way she'd managed to lock in the pain management technique. In the space of the bond he sensed her reserve at his reaction, not too dissimilar from a modest blush. He turned his attention quickly to the healing technique and led her through it. She managed to make some headway before he felt her concentration begin teetering, the technique holding the pain back slightly less steady. Once it gave she’d be in a lot of pain, even with the progress they’d made on her wounds.
“I think that’s enough for now.” He lifted his hand to her temple again, and with the lightest tap of his fingers, the bond unraveled.
“Really?” She looked at the burns on her arm. “I thought we could at least get some of it completely healed.”
He leaned back. “I think getting to medbay and getting some rest is the better choice.”
She frowned, but nodded. “We’re heading to Katraasi next, which should give me some time.”
“Katraasi?”
Mara shook her head. “Long story,” she checked her chrono. “You’re off to dinner now?”
He nodded. “Dankin mentioned wanting me to go over some of the communications rigging since I haven’t done comms in a while, but I could see if he can show me now while you’re in medbay -- if you have time to fill me in after.”
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” He helped her bandage the arm and saw her off.
They’d been with Karrde’s organization for a month. Karrde hadn’t been thrilled that Mara had brought him on, that much he’d sensed. Karrde had pressed Luke for assurances that he was acting completely independently of the New Republic and that he was ready to defer to Karrde’s crew, but even with all that, his unease had been palpable.
“Mara tells me that your primary motivation would be to continue training her whenever she isn’t working.”
Luke had nodded.
“Seems like a strange way to go about Jedi training.”
There had been more lurking under the comment. Luke had offered Karrde an easy smile. “Given Mara’s commitments, there are no other options.” He’d paused. “She’s my first apprentice.”
Some flash of understanding had passed through Karrde’s eyes. “Ah, the test.”
“Test?”
“It’s no secret that the resurgence of the Jedi Order rests on you. I assume before embarking on such a task taking on a single apprentice -- one with significant training would be a good test of your mettle, as a teacher.” He had waved a hand. “Without the whole apparatus of a formal institution to consider.”
“I hadn’t thought about it exactly that way.”
“Really? You’ll excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”
He had shrugged. “The plans for a Jedi academy are still at a very early stage.”
“And when her training is done?” Karrde’s eyes had been sharp. “Or you haven’t thought about that either?”
“At that point, I suppose Mara will decide where she can best serve.”
Karrde had folded his hands. “And you as her master wouldn’t have any say on that?”
Luke could have said any number of things, but he had decided on, “That’s not the kind of apprenticeship she has with me.”
Karrde hadn’t looked all that convinced. “I looked at the revisions that you sent with the contract. It’s the height of foolishness to refuse pay for work.”
“Yes, well, Mara’s time will be enough.”
“When possible.”
Luke had blinked and nodded slowly. “And I will keep my prerogative to opt out of jobs.”
It had been Karrde’s turn to nod grudgingly. “I wouldn’t expect otherwise from a Jedi. But on the matter of pay...” Karrde passed him a flimsi with a figure.
Luke’s eyes had widened. “No.”
“Make no mistake, Skywalker as long as you’re in my organization, I will use you. Consider that payment for your, let’s say, unique skillset. Modifications will be made given what you opt out of. Is this satisfactory?”
It had been, and Karrde had seemed to allow himself one of his usual sardonic smiles. “Welcome aboard.”
But it hadn't just been Karrde either. Leia had been even less thrilled that he was, in her words “going on one last joyride through the galaxy,” as if he'd been about to marry the Academy. She couldn’t be persuaded there was anything more than that in play. Every time he talked to her she made a point of exacting his assurance that he would return and go back to setting it up -- as if he could forget. He reminded himself that a large part of that testiness was probably because in his absence all interested parties for any reason turned to Leia, already overworked and overextended as she was. Leaving her with all that bothered him, but no more than staying on Coruscant and sweeping away all he and Mara built indefinitely. Leia would have to understand. Normally, he could count on Han to intervene on his behalf, but Han couldn't be persuaded that he'd go with Mara if there was nothing, in his words, "hot and heavy" going on. Luke had painstakingly pointed out how offensive that was, and how much she had progressed as an apprentice, and how much he was learning about teaching and mentorship...and Han had lifted his eyebrows, nodding with a "Sure, kid. If you say so, but I thought redheads weren't your type?"
At least the crew had seemed to take it in stride.
Regardless, his decision had begun paying in dividends already. Mara had more than met him halfway. Luke had his suspicions that more than anything he had said, it had been Mara’s negotiations that had sealed the deal with Karrde. What she had bargained, he was reluctant to ask, but Mara had thrown herself at training with a fever he hadn’t seen before. She’d been dedicated enough at Coruscant, but she’d have to be either planetside or several light years away to actually cancel on a session now. Or barely standing going by today, he winced inwardly. Part of it was, no doubt, proving to herself, along with everyone else, she could tackle it all. The thought sent alarm bells ringing in his head, he didn't think she was anywhere close to burnout, not this early, but he could see it in the horizon if she kept her pace up indefinitely. He knew better than to doubt her tenacity, he might have to make adjustments, just to be safe.
Luke’s stomach grumbled, reminding him he’d put off dinner later than he’d expected. With a sigh, he went for his comlink, keying Dankin’s line.
--
Mara was already at the galley when Luke got there.
“A GNC?” Aves was munching on a ribene beside her. “You rarely hear about those anymore. I don’t think they’re even legal.”
“Says Takara has one. Legality has never stopped him from anything.”
“Will he want to part with it is the question.” He nodded a greeting at Luke as he walked in.
“Hey, Skywalker.” Luke recognized Corvis’ voice from across the room. “Is it true--”
Mara rolled her eyes. “Not again.”
He glowered at her but continued, “That Jedi can hold their breath indefinitely?”
It had become a bit of a running joke. At any given moment one crew member would start with “Is it true that…” and supply anything from the mundane (Jedi meditate every day?) to the bizarre (Jedi never eat?).
Luke grinned. “No, human Jedi need air like everyone else.”
“Corvis,” Mara snapped. “If you’re done with today’s incisive question...”
He raised his hands. “A man is allowed to be curious.”
“Don’t you have to be at the bridge right about now?” She looked at her chrono. “Your shift starts in two minutes. Keep dishing the dust with Skywalker and you’ll be late. But, I mean, we can always square up with your pay next quarter.”
Corvis sighed. “Slave driver.”
Mara was looking at her datapad. "Someone's got to make the lot of you earn your pay."
Corvis rolled his eyes at her and exited.
Luke grabbed some of the ribenes from the conservator for himself, put them on a plate and slid them into the cooker.
Mara didn't look up even as Luke took the seat in front of her. “This isn’t right,” she mumbled.
“What?”
She finally looked up and passed him the datapad. “You helped Lachton with the loading this morning, right?” The cooker beeped.
He nodded, going to get his food.
“This is you, right?” She went to sit next to him and pointed to one of the columns on the spreadsheet.
Luke nodded again. “I double checked the labeling. They crossref fine with the list.”
It was Mara’s turn to nod. “They do,” she said slowly. “But the labeling is a little off.”
He looked at the sheet again. “Where? You’d think the computer would have flagged--”
“Well, it’s a procedural thing,” she explained. “You need a period here.”
Luke squinted at the file. “Okay,” he said worriedly, “But nothing’s out of order. Nothing got lost?”
She waved a hand. “No, no it’s fine. It’s just procedure.”
The intercom sounded. “Mara, Ghent's done with the decryption, if you want to take a look.” Dankin’s voice rang out.
Mara sat up. “I’ll be right back.”
She’d left her datapad and Luke perused the spreadsheet again.
“It’s no use.” Aves was putting his plates away into the dishwasher. “There’s no logical reason to be a stickler for useless procedure, but that’s Mara for you.”
Luke tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“It makes no difference,” Aves said. “Whether there’s a dot or not, it gets processed by the computer the same way. At one point when we had the old system it mattered, but not now.”
“So why does Karrde want it like that?”
Aves shrugged. “Not Karrde. Karrde doesn’t care what you label the cargo as long as the computer processes it right and it gets to where it needs to get to. This is all Mara.” He stood up.
“And she knows?”
Aves nodded. “That’s probably why Lachton had you take over. He hates this sort of thing.” Aves seemed to be suppressing a grin. “Most people do. Most people don’t care.”
“Except,” Luke stared down at the spreadsheet again. “Mara.”
“Exactly.” He finished with the dishes. “See you later, Skywalker.”
By then, Mara was back. She made herself a cup of caf and took her seat again.
“If the dot doesn’t matter,” he ventured. “Why do you want it there?”
Mara looked at him quizzically. “It’s procedure, Luke.”
“Yeah, but it makes no difference.”
“Well,” she said carefully and he got the impression she was reigning herself in. “There’s just proper ways of doing this. This way it’s more orderly. There’s more continuity in the records. It’s not a big deal. You’ll get the hang of it.” Her tone indicated she was done with the topic and she thumbed off her datapad. He was suddenly very aware they were alone.
In the month they had spent on the Wild Karrde, save for training, they’d had scant time alone. Luke wasn’t about to cross wires, navigating his position with the crew and with Mara in this context was delicate enough, but he’d held hope that once they fell into some sort of routine that they could maybe venture into the kind of ground they’d begun treading in Coruscant. Given the fiasco last time, he was leaving the ball squarely in Mara’s court.
And she’d been doing nothing with it.
It had been only a month. Luke thought he could be patient, but he’d begun to wonder if maybe he’d been reading the whole situation wrong. The mystifying thing was Mara was as happy as he'd ever seen her, all the restlessness she’d had in Coruscant channeled into solid purpose, evenly distributed between her work obligations and her training. Her Force presence radiated an even keeled contentment that on the one hand made him inordinately happy as well, and on the other, set his teeth on edge.
“Luke?”
He shook his head to clear it, bringing himself back to the situation. It was as if she’d blotted out anything between them that wasn’t strictly friendly with no discernible misgivings. He was certain he could do it too, he just didn't want to, at least not without figuring out whether it was truly hopeless or not.
“You said you wanted to know what happened at Ka’Pa’s.”
He nodded. “And what that had to do with me.”
She smiled. “Jabba the Hutt’s tragic demise has made the Hutts a bit paranoid about Jedi."
“Oh? That was Leia.” He wondered if he should --what? Was there anyway of broaching the matter that would not put in jeopardy how great everything was otherwise?
“Jedi makes a better story,” she took a sip of her caf and smiled again. “Spread like wildfire.”
“Ah.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine. Why?”
“You just seem out of it.”
He shook his head reigning himself back in and closing the mental door on the subject for the moment with an inward sigh. “It’s nothing.” He leaned forward. “Tell me about Katraasi.”
--
A week later, Luke was just in the middle of the same tedious labeling, when Lachton came rushing over. “The deal’s gone bad.”
They both ran to the nearest landspeeder. Karrde and Mara were not that far and by the time Lachton had stopped the speeder, he’d felt Mara reaching out. He’d reacted instinctively, threading the training bond. It required more focus from a distance, but with Mara's help he was able to fix it in place.
“Lower level,” he told Lachton, tapping into the images she'd sent him. “Maybe fifteen or twenty hired guns.”
Lachton cursed. “How--nevermind.” Luke barely heard him. The numbers were not a problem. Not for Mara either, it was Karrde she was concerned about.
He got from Mara that there was an aqueduct that would take them near the room where she and Karrde were located. Luke read too much impatience in the thugs and passed on her plan. They didn’t have the time for the kind of subtlety she favored. He didn’t need it either.
“What are we doing?” Lachton asked, a bit of incredulity in his voice. “Go in through the front door guns blazing? Really?”
“Set for stun.” Luke couldn't help the grin that broke through his face. “I’ll cover you.”
He had his suspicions that underworld types were generally more about brute force and power in numbers than ingenuity. Two thugs rushed up when Luke burst in the warehouse, they got maybe two shots off each, both cleanly deflected by Luke’s lightsaber. The blasters grew silent when Luke Force flung them to the wall. They were unconscious before they hit the ground. Luke felt Lachton’s skepticism dissipate like smoke in the air. They set to make it to the lower levels.
Luke sensed an increased wariness mounting from the thugs downstairs with the thinning of their ranks bit by bit as they picked off the hired guns on their way down. Not thin enough that Mara would risk Karrde by calling back her lightsaber yet though.
That is, until he and Lachton actually made it down to the level. That distraction was all Mara needed and her lightsaber flew into her hands. She yelled at Karrde to duck and she effortlessly batted off blaster bolts as Lachton fired, Luke’s lightsaber picking off the rest, effectively squeezing the gang from behind. Karrde managed to get his hands on a blaster and between the the four of them they made short work of the crew. The thugs that remained ended up surrendering not long after, Karrde wrangling their boss four times the amount over what they owed for the hassle.
They filed out to the speeder and Karrde shook his head. “Well that was embarrassing. I knew Takara was touchy, I didn’t expect he’d be that touchy.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Mara replied grimly. “I didn’t expect it either.” Her tone belied the self reproach pouring from her, crystal clear through the training bond.
Easy, Luke sent back a general feeling along the lines don’t expect infallibility from yourself.
Mara was glum, berating herself for not listening to the alarm she’d felt earlier.
Sometimes, he pointed out via memory of one of his less than graceful escapades, it’s too diffuse.
He sensed she accepted that, but the current of do better remained.
“Skywalker, Mara?” Both Karrde and Lachton were looking at them oddly.
He felt Mara’s instinctive wariness when it came to being seen using the Force in non combat situations. She suppressed it, thoughts turning to all she’d braved with the crew, when they’d been with her when no one else had. The thought sent a corresponding warmth flowing through Luke, a side effect of the training bond.
“Sorry,” Mara gestured to her temple. “We have a…”
“Mental connection,” Luke finished for her, noticing Karrde’s scrutiny.
“For training purposes,” Mara added quickly.
“And since we're done here--,” Luke lifted a hand to her forehead, only to have her place her hand over his and push it away gently. He looked at her, the explanation falling into place a second before she spoke
“Leave it. We’ll be just in time to train.”
Lachton looked at Luke. “Shavit. You don’t give her a break, do you?”
“Not me.” Luke lifted his hands in exasperation and sent a pointed look in her direction. “You know how she is." Turning to Mara he said, "Isn’t this enough for one day?”
She didn't answer, choosing to make a general sound of impatience instead. A wave of dissatisfaction washed over him through the bond as they climbed into the speeder behind Karrde and Lachton.
Fine, he sent her way grudgingly. We can go through some meditation. The flicker of dissatisfaction eased up. He shook his head at her. Had he been that stubborn and single-minded when he trained? A vague memory of Yoda whacking him with a stick for some minor infraction floated up and he winced. Beside him, Mara bit back a smile and bumped her shoulder lightly against his.
--
Luke had forgotten all about the labeling procedures until several days had passed, right until he was about to set off to join Karrde on one of his drops.
He sensed Mara at the door and he sent off a greeting, idly flicking the button release for the door of his cabin as he reached for his shirt.
There was a bright spike of something that vanished just as soon as he’d perceived it, but he turned in her direction. Its remnants were in the way her eyes were on his side, his arm.
He knew that look, the shadowed intensity of it and swallowed hard. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't get through a night without that look floating up in his memory.
It was gone by the time she met his eyes. She lifted her datapad and he shrugged on the shirt before taking it.
“That’s you, isn’t it?” she asked curtly.
It was the spreadsheet again. Luke couldn't see what she was gesturing to. “Yeah, what is it?”
“The period in the label.”
He squinted at the sheet. “I don’t see -- oh.” There was something he could only call prickly about her presence in the Force, before it vanished, just as the previous reaction.
“I guess it was a rush job with all that happened,” Mara said. “You forgot.” He couldn't keep from staring at her. Was she actually letting it slide?
He muttered an apology not quite knowing what to do with the knowledge. It didn’t sit well with him. The last time she’d walked on eggshells around him she’d been ready to abandon her training. This wasn't that, but he didn't even want to come close to it.
Mara lowered the datapad. “Look, I know that this is menial, but it’s just how things are done.”
He nodded at her.
She flipped her braid over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to Lachton. There’s no reason why he should make you to do this.”
Luke shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m part of the crew--"
“Karrde’s sending you out on bodyguard duty?” There was something heavy in her emotions, an vague echo again to that dismal moment when she’d offered her lightsaber back at him and he reached to clasp her shoulder as if he could physically pull her back from that precipice.
“Hey.” He met her eyes. “I’m choosing to be here. It’s fine. I don’t mind it. Beats committee meetings.” He saw the tension in her face, all the things unsaid and sighed, let go of her shoulder, beckoning with a hand. “Go on. Say it.”
She bit her lip. “You shouldn’t even be here.”
Luke shook his head at her. “That’s not up to you to decide.”
“Luke--”
“No,” Luke said, maybe more emphatically than she expected because she became quiet. “You’re getting in your own way again.”
That seemed to hit the mark. Mara inhaled and the heaviness lifted, not dissipated, but was pushed aside by force of will. That was good enough for the moment.
“Karrde’s reasonably certain we will be back by nightfall.” He lifted a hand to her shoulder again, squeezing lightly. “I’ll comm you when we get back.”
--
Luke hadn’t even thought of the labeling until a week later. He wasn’t sure how he got roped into a game of sabacc with Torve, Corvis, Dankin and Lachton (“No mind tricks!”) where the pot was an out of the dreary work. He did know that at some point in the middle of the game everything just made sense.
He didn't even try to win.
When the time came to make a record of the cargo, Luke went through the usual protocols, save one. It was just a matter of waiting after.
The day passed without incident. The next, too.
Out of curiosity, Luke went to check the file. Maybe Mara’s workload had been larger this week, maybe she hadn’t noticed, but when he opened the file, he noted the labels had been fixed. She’d switched it for him. That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for.
“No, you don’t,” Luke muttered and switched them all back. He sat back to wait.
Most of the day passed without incident in the usual routine. He wouldn’t have expected anything from Mara during the training session, but dinner went by without any mention of it either -- and any reaction from Mara.
She was sitting beside him, going back and forth with Chin on popular trade routes and he thought he should be satisfied with this easy camaraderie, with her contentment like a soothing murmur in his perceptions, with her commitment towards becoming a Jedi. That was all he had ever wanted from her, wasn’t it?
He shouldn’t have tried to goad her. It was selfish. Maybe he could fix the file again.
“You okay?” her voice broke through his thoughts.
He sighed. “Yeah. Fine.” Concern seeped into her face and he smiled, hoping to ease it. “See you tomorrow.”
In his quarters, he thought it was a matter of resigning himself to it -- it’d been a passing interest for her, he’d just been so sure...maybe at some point down the line...
Luke was just opening the document when his comlink sounded.
“Skywalker,” Mara’s voice barked through once he opened the line “Maybe you’d like to explain why the spreadsheet is a mess after I fixed it.”
“Sorry,” he replied. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m going over it now.”
“I don’t want apologies. I want an explanation as to why after I fixed the whole blasted document you went and changed everything back. And then I want you to fix it.”
“I’ll be more careful--”
“This is the third time,” she cut him off. “I shouldn’t have to be going over the spreadsheet at this point. Maybe you’re used to everyone else making allowances for you, but I’m not about to.”
“Wait, wait -- you didn’t even have to fix it in the first place,” he couldn’t help but point out. “It really makes no difference at the end of the day.”
Luke could almost see her eyes narrow on the other side of the line. “And I said I’m taking care of it,” he added.
“An explanation. You have three minutes. Make it good.”
Before he could say anything else she closed the line and he was left staring, dumbfounded. She couldn’t possibly be serious.
It took her less than three minutes. He’d just felt the her presence get stronger in his awareness until the door had slid open and she was right there without him even letting her in.
He furrowed his brow at her. “How’d you get the code for my door?”
She ignored the question, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m all ears.” He didn’t answer, just stretched out towards her...and found nothing.
He tilted his head, part of him considering it admiringly. It really was a spectacular shielding job, he couldn’t even sense the irritation that was patently obvious at a glance. But mostly -- “Why are you shielding?”
She leaned back. “Why are you trying to get a read on me?”
He spread his arms. “If you’re going to dock my pay over a dot, I just wanted the heads up.”
Mara laughed like it was genuinely funny. “Are you serious? You were going to work for free.”
On retrospect, he should have figured she’d known, just like she’d known the code to his door. But she was shielding, and he was forced to catalogue the glimmer of her eyes, the way she leaned back with a casual hand on her hip. He had thought he could read her well, but she’d blindsided him last time. Was it worth the risk of misreading her now?
“Not for free,” he ventured, bracing himself. “For you.”
“Yeah?” she snapped and there it was, that low pitch of her voice. “You’re doing a lousy job.” But her hand was sliding up his forearm and he could barely think over the pound of his blood at his ears. She reached the hollow between his forearm and his upper arm, thumb stroking over the skin there.
“I don’t want to have to be breathing down your neck.” Her thumb dug down hard and it felt like she’d found a bruise he didn’t know he had. The pressure kept going until pain shot down his arm and he dragged in air with a gasp, but didn’t dare pull his arm away, coming this close to saying, but that’s exactly what I want...
Mara’s hand was gone, leaving a dull throb its wake and so much heat that he was instinctively reaching for calm, too afraid that he was missing something, that maybe he was imagining things. She had that look he knew, but it receded to something conflict-ridden and worried, and he bit down on the impulse to say, no no no.
“If this a means to an end.” Mara shook her head, back to herself. “It’s not going to work. There’s nothing else.”
Luke scrunched up his face at her. “I don’t understand.”
She rubbed her forehead, every pore of her radiating discomfort.
“I’m fine with picking up where we left off,” Luke offered tentatively. "More than fine."
If that was the extent of her misgivings, he could work with it. That out of the way, it was less of a chance, but still a risk to approach her, be scant inches from her and murmur, “You know what I want, and you want to give it to me, so why don’t you?”
But he did it anyway.
Mara turned her head, and that look was back. He had her, and he couldn’t breathe over the way his stomach knotted at what it meant.
“Why don’t I?” she echoed back, a lilt to it that was vaguely mocking. Her hand dashed out and she grasped right below his jaw, thumb and forefinger calling out a sharp prick of pain as they dug down on his skin, his throat working against the heat of her palm as he gasped again, suddenly so hard that everything around him but Mara went dim.
He was going to ruin all of her spreadsheets.
“My rules,” Mara prompted. “Show me how good your memory is.”
It was hard to talk over the pressure just below his chin high on his throat. His airflow was fine, it was just the logistics of opening his mouth to rasp when her fingers were digging up that sharply right up under his jawbone. “No Force use.” Regardless of how he’d like to read her, that one was not that much of a problem.
Mara’s lips curved and she nodded approvingly. “Good. That’s one.” She tightened her grip, fingers digging in further until he wondered if he could bruise there. It felt like he could.
“No touching.” The words were a half whisper. And that one was a problem, because last time, when she was all he could smell, taste, and feel, he hadn’t been able to let her go, had to keep her there hot and unbelievably wet against his mouth, had to know what it’d feel like to make her tremble and come undone. And that he wasn’t sorry about at all, no matter how close they’d skirted disaster.
Luke wondered if Mara had picked up on that because she abruptly let him go and went to sit by the small desk without any acknowledgement, datapad primly on her lap. She crossed her legs, fixing him with an evaluative stare. He felt himself flush under it, realizing there was no way she could miss how hard he was.
“Take your clothes off.”
He couldn’t decide if undressing like this made him more uncomfortable or less as he reached to the hem of his shirt.
Mara leaned back on the chair, tilted her head up. “You don’t like it.”
“It’s no--”
“Shut up. You don’t like it? Go slow.”
Luke’s face was positively burning up, part of him utterly exhilarated to the point of being lightheaded, the other wanting to hide in embarrassment. He teetered from one to the other and back again in the space of seconds as he pulled off the shirt with deliberate movements, tamping on the impulse to just chuck it off. It was a relief when her face momentarily disappeared from his view, even if he could feel the weight of her gaze still. He let the shirt fall to the floor and sat off to the side of the bunk to take off the boots, undid the fastenings of his pants, hooked his thumb along the sides, lifting his hips to push them down.
He meant a quick glance to her where she sat, but stayed looking, thinking that maybe if he looked hard enough he might see the faultline where all that sting disappeared, turned into something achingly soft. He knew it was there.
Mara met his gaze evenly. There was already a splash of color on her cheeks, and they wouldn’t even be doing this, he reminded himself, if she didn’t want him. He couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face at the thought. Mara crossed her arms over her chest.
“Something funny?”
He shook his head, looked away and got rid of the underwear.
“I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable, because you’re going to get on your bunk and you’re going to make yourself come.”
He blinked, his mind felt sluggish, he couldn’t have heard -- “What?”
He looked up at her to find a bland expression on her face. “You heard me.”
And that had him blushing furiously, so much that he felt a prickle at his forehead as the exhilaration tipped fully over to embarrassment.
“Oh,” Mara’s voice went low, approaching smoky. “You don’t like that at all.”
Idly, he considered that if she kept that pitch to her voice, he could be persuaded. He sneaked an experimental stroke along his cock, half hard. Mara tsked, and he looked up to see her shaking her head.
“Front and center, Farmboy.”
His lips twisted as he felt himself fade a bit. He hadn’t anticipated this. He turned it over his head.
“You want that?” he asked tentatively.
“I want that.” She nodded. “And you’re going to give it to me. Quit stalling.”
She talked like that, and again, it made him think he could, he might. He got on the bunk, turned to where she sat, leaning forward slightly. He fisted his cock and tried an experimental stroke, tried another, but he kept feeling off base, too aware of himself.
“Why do you want this?” He met her eyes.
She shook her head. “No questions.”
Luke bit his lip, closing his eyes conjuring the smell of her, her taste. With the memory came the searing desire to do it again. If this could earn him that...but he couldn't build anything from it, the weight of her gaze on him kept bringing him back to the closed circuit of his own skin.
He sighed, feeling more than a bit sheepish, enough that he was loathe to make eye contact. He heard the scrape of her chair on the floor as she pushed it back. His head shot up. Mara had left the datapad on the chair as she made her way over, sitting on the side of the bunk and kicking off her boots.
He looked at her from the corner of his eye, hardly daring to breathe. Mara pulled her legs in and scooted to sit behind him. She wasn’t actually touching him, but was near enough that he felt the warmth pouring off her. Waiting to actually feel her hands on him was as maddening as he remembered and he swallowed convulsively.
The expectation coalesced into the skid of Mara’s fingertips over his spine between his shoulder blades and up his nape, a delicate touch. Her hand curved around his neck, slid up, tangled in his hair, sure now, and he leaned back slightly, skin heating up as it came into contact with hers. He could spare some disappointment that she was completely clothed, she was nearly always completely clothed -- her fingers clenched in his scalp and she yanked his head back hard, making him cry out. Pain spread in his awareness an instant later, sharp enough to echo on even after she stopped pulling, turning the cry into a gasp.
“Useless,” she hissed right into his ear. “You’re going to keep me waiting?”
Luke cursed, mumbled a hoarse, “No,” because with the press of her solidly behind him, her hand in his hair, her mouth by his ear, it had become as close to a non-issue as it could be. His hand moved almost by its own volition to his cock, where the feel of his hand was a natural response to the sparks wherever she touched, his other clutching at the sheets next to him. He was hyper aware of her hand along his shoulder, enough to gulp air when it trailed down his side. He was harder than he had any right to be, if occasionally derailed by the slide of her hands across his skin, fingertips dragging across his stomach, palms gliding down his back, stroking along the outside of his thigh. His tempo kept switching from fast to slow. Not building, not quite, but still immeasurably good.
Mara stopped her exploratory caresses, and nuzzled where his shoulder met his neck. He expected it to be as fleeting as the rest, but she brushed her lips against his skin, nipped, went back to feathery kisses along his nape, nipped again until it became a pattern, inflaming in its own right, propelling him into a rhythm that felt certain, sharper, that built.
It took him a bit to figure out she’d stopped. He felt a flicker of disappointment, but he was already caught, tension winding tightly in the pit of his stomach with every stroke, breaths increasingly uneven and fast.
Luke didn’t feel her shift, but she must have because her hand grazed the hand he had stroking up his length and he made himself slow down just at the thought that she might touch him. At the frantic hope of it.
Her breath against his skin made him shiver. “And if I said stop?”
He didn’t even want to contemplate it, groaned in spite of himself.
“Would you?” Her hand trailed up, a touch that was barely there. His other hand's grip on the sheets tightened. The idea of her hand on him was now burned into his mind. He might do anything for it.
“Yes,” he whispered.
She made an approving sound, like a hum in the back of her throat. He felt her hand on his cheek. “Stop.”
Luke heard her, but the word took longer to sink in. He thought after this pass, after this. He thought he would, but didn’t get a chance to find out because Mara yanked his head back again, rougher than last time, leaving him gasping at the flare of white that broke through his vision.
“Stop.”
He did, but it was not easy at all, especially because her mouth was at his shoulder just below his neck, hot and more than a little bit vicious as she scratched her teeth against his skin, not hurting precisely, but getting there. That, along with the throb at his scalp made him feel restless. There was too much sensation and all ending at the base of his stomach. He twisted, clenched his other hand into a fist, squirmed some more. Mara’s lips were along his shoulder up his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses. He shut his eyes, thinking of nothing but the feel of her mouth on him, suddenly remembering the tight heat of it in tormenting detail. She withdrew and he breathed through the ache, but then she was pulling his left hand up, bringing his index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking filthy and loud, swirling her tongue around them, like he remembered, like it was him. It made him dig the fingers of his other hand into his thigh to keep it there, and moan, “Can I --”
Mara dragged the blunt fingernails of her other hand up his side. He lost the words with a cry, jerking in her arms like live wire. She released his fingers.
“Can I what?” she asked.
In the time it took him to find coherency, her hand had traveled up his ribs, slid over a nipple and twisted. Pain flowered white in his vision and his hips jolted forward. For a moment he thought he might come just from the excess sensation of it all, but the feeling washed out, leaving him breathing heavily, everything around him acquiring a dull quality next to the jagged edge of his arousal. Mara’s hand was stroking up and down his neck and he leaned back into her, into the touch, latching onto it as a promise.
“Can I what?” Her lips brushed by a spot under his ear and he moaned. Her laugh drifted over him velvety soft, near breathless. “Kriff, you’re loud.”
Maybe he should have been embarrassed, but he didn’t care, cared even less when she shifted and her hand was on the base of his cock, not even wrapped around it, simply there, and he moaned out her name as his hips worked to find any friction. Mara adjusted, lifted her hand a bit so he couldn’t find any, leaving him to whimper her name.
“Can I what?” she prompted again.
He thought she might like it, maybe she wanted it, maybe she needed it, and then he was just pleading in staccato gasps, "Can I come? Make me come. Please. I've wanted you to. I've wanted you to. For so long."
She exhaled, a rush of breath against his shoulder. "Luke." He had never heard her say his name like that, but he couldn’t ponder it too much because her hand had closed around him, stroking with perfect pressure and just the right bit of unfamiliarity that reminded him that it was her hand, that she was doing this to him, and he came so hard he thought he may have lost a minute.
The first thing Luke registered when he was back to himself was her weight against his back. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, breath warm against his shoulder blade, her hand perched by his hip, the other around his waist. His heart grew impossibly tight in his chest. He was seized by an impulse to cover the hand at his hip with his, to kiss her, and there was a prick at the realization that he couldn’t.
But he could work with this too. Once, she’d wanted him dead for all he’d unwittingly taken from her, and now there was the press of her body against his back, close enough that he could feel her every breath. They hadn't even meant to, or at least, he hadn't. Maybe if he treaded lightly, if he took his time...
Mara shifted away a bit, but even as she did, closed her hand over his briefly and gave it a squeeze.
...the possibilities made dizzy.
“Okay?” she murmured.
Luke nodded. “Yeah.”
Mara moved away, sliding off the bunk towards the ‘fresher. His limbs felt heavy and he was tempted to lie back, but realized the mess on him and groaned.
“Towel?” Mara’s voice had a completely self satisfied undertone to it.
“Please,” he called out to her. He just needed to tread lightly. He could do that.
She emerged and threw him a washcloth.
“Complaints?” she asked leaning back against the door.
“None. I could go for a shower though.” He finished wiping himself and grinned at her. “You?”
Mara rolled her eyes. “Suave, Skywalker.”
“You have work, right?” he asked as she went for the datapad.
“Not least of which is fixing your mess,” she muttered.
“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”
She snorted, ambling back to the bunk to sit by her boots, placing the datapad aside to start putting them on. “I suppose flimsi notes are part of the Luke Skywalker repertoire for seduction too? ‘Circle yes if you’d like to come to my cabin’?”
He scooted over to her side, tapped the side of his lip thoughtfully. “They could be. Does that work for you?”
She laughed, but her expression soon became serious, sending a surge of apprehension through him.
Mara touched his hand. Her eyes had gone crystalline. Despite his unease, he thought, there was the faultline, and clenched his other hand tight to keep from doing something reckless and violently stupid like wrapping his arms around her and kissing her senseless.
“I thought...after last time...” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Luke tilted his head. “Ended up okay,” he said lightly. “I might have...overstepped.” He felt a little bad taking the opening, but just a little. “I just...I’d like to do this again.” She smiled a smile that went all the way over to her eyes, one that made him feel daring, and he continued, “And again and again.”
She let out a laugh, but turned serious too soon, though not quite as sober as before. “Just this is fine with you?”
That “just” irked a bit, but he could let it slide and nodded.
Mara’s face became suddenly closed. “We can never bring in training stuff in here,” her voice was steely, but there was a current underneath that turned his stomach. Fear. “Ever.”
Luke nodded again and took her hands in his, meeting her eyes. Some things went past reserve. He caught a glimpse of the risk she’d taken being with him like this. “I would never.”
Her smile went small. It made him want to gather her in his arms, but he simply squeezed her hands.
He couldn’t resist asking, “What about the no touching thing?” She pulled her hands away gently and he found himself backtracking. “It’s fine.” He waved a hand. “I was just curious. Last time...I want to do that again.”
Mara cocked her head. “If you’re good,” she said in a tone that was anything but. “Maybe.”
He sighed and took the datapad from beside her.
“That doesn’t count.”
Luke flashed her an outraged look. “How can it not count? No one actually has to fix anything,” he muttered, thumbing it on.
“Hey.” He looked up at her. The levity was again dialed back. “We haven’t talked about what you’re not comfortable with.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
Mara looked at him uncomprehendingly.
“I wasn’t comfortable tonight,” he said by way of explanation. “We figured it out.”
She shook her head at him, mystified. “You make everything sound so simple.”
Luke went back to the datapad feigning nonchalance. “It’s not that complicated. I trust you."
That earned him her hand at his cheek. She pulled it away to finish slipping on the boots. "It should also be obvious that we should be discrete about this.” She stood.
He looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Really? And here I thought we should go to Karrde for his blessing--”
Mara leaned forward putting her hands on his shoulders. “Quit it with the sarcasm.” He couldn’t help thinking that he’d just have to lean forward, turn his head a little and he’d be kissing her. “You’re no good at it. Really.”
Instead, he pouted at her. “I’m fine at it.”
“Whatever.” She straightened up and grabbed the datapad, making her way to the door.
Luke leaned back on the bunk. “When do we do this again?” he called out.
Mara flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “Soon. I’ll let you know.” Her smile edged a bit into cutting when she added, “I’d fix the spreadsheet sooner rather than later if I were you, though.”
He straightened up to a sitting position. “Thought it didn’t count.”
“You never know.” With that, she was gone.
He couldn’t get to his datapad fast enough.