Fallen

Night 1

The old bar on Vorzyd V was small, but it was comfortable. Sitting on  the main thoroughfare between the hotels and Casino Royale, it stayed busy enough, even despite the recent decline in business because of the war.



 The owner, a middle aged Vorzydiak, was nothing if not pragmatic, a savvy businessman. He was good-humored and had keen instincts and Aala and him had gotten on from the start. He insisted on simply being called Vo, and she wasn’t sure whether he was hiding something or his name was hard to pronounce, but it didn’t matter to her either way.



Leaning on the aging bar, Aala went over the details of the assignment in her head as she waited for him to fill another tray of drinks -- establish a cover on Vorzyd V, meet with the contact, Jace Ryen, whenever he saw fit to grace her with his presence, get the intel, double check it, and get out.



Picturing the image she’d seen of his face, she ran through the list she received with it. Average height, average build. Weakness for easy money and pretty girls – or was it easy girls and pretty money? Hm. Short, brown hair. Hot tempered and scruffy.



He’d apparently provided good intelligence in the past, but he’d been identified as jumpy and unpredictable – thus this new approach, which had been her idea.



Meet him in his territory, charm him into relaxing and, most important, keep it short and sweet. He was supposed to show up in the next few days, but Aala was prepared to spend a week or longer. She had a room close by and a good cover story as a down on her luck wanderer, looking for a job and a place to get away from her past.



Why was it always so easy for people to believe she was down on her luck? She gave a mental shrug. As long as it worked.



“Tables 5 and 6,” the yellowish-green skinned bartender said, catching her attention as he added two ales to the whiskey and mixed drinks – a tall blue one, and a fizzy orange one – on her tray.



“Thanks Vo,” she said glancing up at him, but he was looking over her shoulder, his antennae swaying slightly back and forth.



“Watch out for the Hrakian.”



Aala turned to see the bulky near-human at table 5; his hair and skin a distinct shade of gold.



“He’s all hands,” he said, a tone of dry humor in his voice. “But don’t offend him,” he added, “he’s a regular.”



Aala smiled – ah, the complications of being a waitress at a bar – and Vo gave a short nod, seeing she understood. She was grateful for the fair warning, but in the end she knew it was the bottom line that really mattered.



The first half of the night passed in relative peace. A stray hand here, a leer or two maybe, and only one spilled drink. She sank comfortably into her assumed persona, if not the tight dress, serving drinks, flirting just enough to keep them interested in hanging around, and staying, for the most part, just out of reach.



She was consoling an old smuggler, who’d presumably gambled away the last of his credits at the casino, when she turned around and saw him. Her quick eyes took in every feature of his face in an instant – what looked to be a week’s worth of stubble on his chin and jaw, the tousled hair like he’d just rolled out of bed, the handsome easy lines of his face.



Obi-Wan sat casually at a booth in the back. The other waitress, Jynne, was already waiting on him, her hand on her waist and her body tilted just so, inviting him to admire her generous curves.



Then his eyes met hers from across the room and she realized she had been openly staring. Something dangerous flashed across his expression and she spun around to grab her tray before she gave herself away.



She cursed under her breath and then cursed in her head, any and every curse word she could think of and then she made some up.



This was not part of the plan, this was not part of her plan. Did he think she wasn’t capable of doing her job?



Trying to push her growing ire to the back of her mind, she decided to just ignore him. What did she care if he sat in the back of this bar and watched her? If he wanted to drink and flirt with his waitress, then fine.



But he kept invading her thoughts. She knew they hadn’t had a chance to talk, but he seemed fine when she left him, and they were in the middle of a war. Talking would just have to wait.



Blasted, kriffing, insufferable – she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right. Ignoring him.



She ignored him as she felt his eyes on her from across the room. She ignored him as he tried to get her attention, pretending to want to order another drink. And she even tried to ignore him when he cornered her in a back storage room where she was looking for alcohol to restock.



Seething, she tried to brush past him to leave, but his frame blocked most of the doorway. He grabbed her upper arm, to stop her, to get her to look at him. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he tightened his grip and he forced her back into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.



“What are you doing?” she hissed at him, finally meeting his commanding stare.



“Trying to help you,” he said, his voice low and controlled.



She saw that flash in his eyes again, though, as she tried to yank her arm away from him, but his grip was unyielding. He took a measured step forward forcing her back into a shelf of supplies.



“I don’t need help, you arrogant –”



“There’s been an – incident.” His steel gaze was unflinching, his face the picture of calm control as she stared him down, her temper long gone.



“What the hell are you talking about?”



“Your contact. It just hit the holonet, he’s wanted on Corellia for assault and attempted murder.”



“Well, is he guilty?” she challenged him.



“It was... it sounds like it was a tavern fight, and he took off before the authorities arrived.”



“Any number of things could have happened. That doesn’t make him a cold-blooded killer.”



“He’s dangerous.”



“He’s Corellian. That’s what makes him a good informant. Trouble finds him no matter where he is, and we’re lucky he’s on our side.”



He finally let go of her arm, his hand going to his chin. “People change, Aala. He’s a wanted man.”



“I’m not going to provoke him. Besides, we’re paying him a lot of money, it’s a business deal, nothing more. No one’s being coerced into doing anything.”



“That’s another thing that bothers me... his family has a lot of money, he’s very rich. Why does he bother?”



“From what I read, he has a rather healthy gambling habit to fund. Or maybe he just wants to do the right thing.”



“I rather doubt that.”



Aala sighed, done with this conversation, and turned around, pretending to search for something in the boxes behind her. “Have my orders changed?” she asked, glancing back at him.



At this, his eyes shifted down, and then back to her. “No. Not yet. Corellia isn’t part of the Republic. Their business is their own. I’m only informing you of what happened so you can take the necessary precaution.”



Her anger flared again, and she whirled around. Little plastic drink straws flew out of the box in her hand and skittered across the floor. “This could have been done in a message, over a comm, Obi-Wan. You’re going to blow my cover.”



“Ben.”



“What?”



“Call me Ben.”



“Whatever.”  She looked him over – the physical changes, the dark, simple clothes, and a different name... would that be enough to mask his real identity? They were more than two and a half years into the war and he was a war hero. She couldn’t go more than five minutes on Coruscant without seeing his name or image somewhere.



“And I won’t blow your cover. I know what I’m doing.”



“So do I,” she warned. “Don’t –” She went to leave but he didn’t move.



He was so close to her now, practically pinning her to the wall of shelves, and she pushed at his chest. “Just don’t. Let me do my job.”



Finally, he stood aside and she stormed from the room. “If you want to help, you can pick up the straws.”







***





Aala managed to avoid ‘Ben’ for the rest of the night, though she snuck a curious glance once or twice. He must’ve shaved right after she left and he’d trimmed his hair a bit, thinning the grey and leaving it mussed. It made him look much younger.



But then he would catch her looking at him and she’d get irritated and ignore him again. Her contact didn’t show. She wasn’t sure now if he even would.



At the end of the night Aala decided she would slip out the back, resenting the idea that Obi-Wan thought he had to be here to watch over her.



The corridor to the hotel was lit by rows of bright fluorescent bulbs and Aala headed for her temporary room, not paying any attention to the throng of beings around her.



It was only a few moments before she felt him following her. Stepping into the crowded lift, she hoped he wouldn’t catch it, not that it would delay him more than a minute or two, but no luck. She clenched her teeth together as he stepped in right before the doors slid shut, annoyed.



Sighing to herself, she conceded that she could not ride the lift all night. When they reached her floor, she pushed past him and he followed her.



Arriving at her door, she spun around, furious, her hand lifting in the air though she was not sure if she wanted to hit him, or poke him in the chest, or nothing at all, but it didn’t matter because he grabbed her wrist before she had even realized what she was doing. And she was so angry with him, she couldn’t think straight.



“Why are you following me?!” Despite her anger, she was unexpectedly struck by the difference in his appearance again as she turned to face him and a jolt of attraction raced through her blood. It mixed with everything else she was feeling, though, and intensified all her emotions in the end.



He pressed her wrist to the nondescript wall next to her head. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he said, his voice cool. “You’re acting like it’s nothing just to spite me.”



She huffed, and he was so close her, her breath fluttered his hair. “Are you insane? Of course I’m taking this seriously. You’re blowing it out of proportion so you have an excuse to strut in here like a hero and come to my rescue.”



“I’m here to give you important information pertaining to your assignment,” he recited. The way he kept his emotions under control only served to make her madder.



“Oh, please,” she scoffed, her voice rising. “How many other intelligence agents do you personally go out of your way to hand deliver information to. There’s no danger. If it is true, he probably won’t show at all, and you know that.”



“He’s completely unpredictable. How much experience do you have doing this sort of thing?”



“How dare you? You have no idea what I do, what I’ve done.” The hallway was quiet and her voice sounded loud in the empty space, but she hardly noticed.



Though his mask of calm stayed in place, he had that look in his eyes again and as she felt her cheeks flame with the heat of her anger she realized that intense, heated look must be a reaction to the defiant, wild look she was shooting at him.



And she could tell he wanted nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder, cart her out of here and be done with it, but she didn’t care.



“I’m just trying to help you.”



She struggled against his grip, starting to loose feeling in her fingers and he let her hand drop.



“Just leave me alone.” Her heart raced in her chest, and half of her wished he would disappear so she could go find something to punch, but the other half wanted him to close that last step between them and just take her already.



She couldn’t sort out her feelings in her head and she couldn’t figure out what she really wanted. It was just so much easier to fight with him lately rather than face herself, but then he would look at her like that...



Suddenly, he was pressing her to the wall and she was clutching the edges of his jacket and they were kissing and she had no idea if she had kissed him first or he had kissed her.



He explored her mouth with fervor, like he needed to know everything about her and she clung to him, the kiss making her dizzy. His hands clenched at her hips and she ran her fingers through his hair and over the stubble on his jaw, trying to get closer. The tension melted away and he felt so good.



It seemed like hours before she finally pulled back to catch her breath and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close to her.



Lowering his lips to her ear, he kissed the lobe once, softly. “Aala, I just miss you.” Pulling away, a small smile curved his lips, reaching his eyes, making them crinkle in happiness. “Just promise not to try to hit me again,” he teased.



She was defenseless; she could only stare back at him, her cheeks flushed and her breath still quickened by his touch. He was completely irresistible.



Giving him a swift kiss, she entered the code to her door and pulled him inside.



She laughed quietly as he swept her into his arms, sealing his mouth over hers once again.



The room was small and simple with only a bed, chair, a little table by the door and a ‘fresher and neither bothered with the lights.



He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, setting her down on the table.



Weaving one hand in her hair, he cupped the back of her head and she hooked her legs around his knees, pulling him toward her.



She could feel what he felt; his longing, how much he cared for her, his desire to just be near her and she felt horrible for being so harsh. Was it that hard for her to accept he simply cared for her?



It didn’t matter now, not with the way they were wrapped around each other; his mouth was so warm and soft against hers, and his strong hands and his solid body, the way he was touching her...



And then he scooped her up in his arms and dropped her to the bed at the exact moment the table cracked and broke, clattering to the hard floor beneath them.



Apparently, it wasn’t built for such activities, but she couldn’t care less as he followed her down.



His entire body pressed insistently into hers and she wriggled underneath him wanting to feel everything all at once.



Suddenly he sat up, pulling her with him and looking at her with such ardor she was inspired into movement. Her hands fumbled at her dress, but as soon as she started to make progress, she would change her mind and switch to trying to remove his shirt.



While she fumbled with their clothing, he reached out to clasp her head between his hands and pulled her close to kiss her again, solely focused on her.



Finally, he moved to help her remove the rest of their clothing and then he turned, leaning back against the head board and pulling her on top of him. He rolled his hips, but she stayed just out of reach, kissing his neck and his shoulders, not purposely trying to tease him but leaving him wanting all the same.



Moving one hand from her waist, he cupped the fullness of her breast, his thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple. Aala tipped her head back, breathing his name and this seemed to snap something inside of him, the same way the table had snapped underneath them.



Flipping her over, he slid into her with one perfect movement, and the angle was so exquisite it was all she could do to hold on and not immediately shatter to pieces. Grasping his shoulders, she heard what sounded suspiciously like a growl as she arched her body up to press into his. She met his passionate gaze without hesitation and she felt closer to him than she ever thought she would be.



His movements were quick and precise, and they came together as one with a heated intensity and raw emotion. Aala felt completely laid bare before him in a way she hadn’t let herself be before.

Her body shook with pleasure as his length throbbed inside her, but too soon, satiated and spent, she fell back to the bed and it was long, long minutes before her heart slowed and her breathing was enough under control that she could speak.



“Ten,” she breathed, turning her head to look at Obi-Wan sprawled across the bed next to her.



He grinned at her. “I hope that’s out of ten and not out of one hundred...”



She laughed, rolling toward him and she let her hand drift across his chest. “No. Number ten,” she smiled, blissful. “Whatever that was, you’ve never done that to me before.”