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08.19.2012 , 07:06 AM |
, with the spoiler-free smuggler Nic. 550 words.
I was backing up the Twi'lek pilot Lendrekka on a standard smuggling run. We ran into trouble before we so much as left the spaceport; a chase through the underground warren of the city involved a little blaster fire, a lot of running, and, eventually, the two of us shutting ourselves in a storage room and locking the door to wait it out.
I pushed my back up against the door and grinned at my partner. She was a hero of mine: slim, dark-eyed, violet-skinned, and at twenty-one one of the youngest full-fledged pilots in boss Ozma's fleet. And she always looked great when her blood was up from a fight. So, yes, I grinned. "Another day, another spine-tingling showdown."
Drekka finished brushing dust off her lekku and looked up to meet my eyes. I was suddenly, intensely aware that I'd never been alone with her before. We'd been in each other's company with nobody else, sure, but there was always work or mortal danger or something to hold our attention. Here, at least until the danger outside cleared, it was just…us.
"Oh, hon," said the Twi'lek. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what? You're a nice sight after a rough bit of work."
Drekka put her fists on her hips and gave me a look half affectionate, half stern. "I'm too old for you."
"You look good for your age."
The sternness got sterner. "Nic, you know the boss has a policy."
"I do? Wait, Oz has a policy? About me?"
"Well…yeah. Honey, you're underage. Nobody's going to do anything 'til you're sixteen."
"When did I get asked about this?"
"She's just looking out for you. Believe me, knowing some of the guys out there, it's for the best."
That figured. That just figured. I huffed. "What am I, back on Alderaan now, needing protection against all the nasty boys and my own wicked ways? Did I seriously escape one big stupid controlled nursery to step into a slightly different big stupid controlled nursery?"
Drekka looked genuinely sorry. "It's not like that. Oz trusts you to make decisions-"
"Except for the fun ones. I can't believe she put out a memo about this without asking me." Once again it was proved that everything in life took a little hustle. "Look, Drekka, do you want me or not? I don't see how anything else matters here."
I held her with a defiant gaze. She stared, sighed, spoke softly.
"That's what kills me about you, kid. You never see how anything but the wanting matters."
"I don't care about her stupid rule," I said. "But if you're not interested, and you want to say it's about rules, we can just go." I hooked my thumbs in my belt, right where I could draw and shoot on a tenth of a second's notice, because that's always the most calming place for my hands to be; and then I turned around to unbar the door.
"Nic." The sound of it twisted my stomach up in interesting knots. I turned back. Drekka walked right up and, studying my face, reached out to run a couple of fingertips over my hair. "You're trouble, you know that?"
That was the sound of something running my way. "Trouble hasn't started yet," I grinned.
The matter of actually kissing or being kissed was entirely new, but I'm a quick study. And Drekka, warm, sweet, intriguingly shifting between soft and firm, seemed willing to offer interesting lessons. Stars, everything about this girl was wonderful.
She broke away, and her smile was radiant. "We should stop for now."
"None of that." I reached up to toy with the Twi'lek's jacket collar. "Don't stop when you should. Stop when you want to."
Happily enough, Drekka didn't want to stop just yet.
My smuggler doesn't get much attention from me. The more I played other classes the less interested I got in my first, and I hadn't set up cutscene recording yet, so I can't go back for reference and I don't have a clear timeline of quests. I have only the barest first-person notes/fic on random segments of the plot.
But sometimes, rarely, some idea of Nic's floats to mind anyway.
I had no idea she wasn't 100% vanilla straight until maybe 18 hours ago. Oh, Nic. You never did go in for doing what I expected.
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