Chapter One: Etain
"My beloved, do you know / How many times I stared at clouds, / Thinking that I saw you there? / These are feelings that do not pass so easily; / I can't forget what we claimed as ours."
VNV Nation
"Beloved"
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This was breaking all the rules.
But the war had broken all the rules of peacekeeping Jedi and a civilized Republic anyway. The Force wouldn't be thrown into turmoil if a mediocre Jedi and a cloned soldier who had no rights broke just one more.
"I never stopped thinking about you, either," said Darman. "Not for a moment."
"So...how long does it take two squads to finish their meals in the bar?"
"Long enough, I think," said Darman.
Karen Traviss
Star Wars Republic Commando: Triple Zero
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It was a delicate moment, as easily broken as fine Corellian crystal glass. Etain broke eye contact with Darman, suddenly shy. She gazed at their hands, joined across the table; her small hand seemed dwarfed between his rougher fingers.
It was a turning point. They both knew what lines they'd crossed. They both knew what further lines were left to cross.
Or, at least, Etain thought they both knew. Sometimes, it was hard to tell with Dar. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes, almost too shy to look him straight in the face.
He had a look of concentration on his face - a sort of unfocused look that she'd seen on him only on those rare occasions when he was considering a situation that couldn't be instinctively addressed by his years of training. Etain became suddenly aware of her erratic pulse and rising body temperature; at that moment, she was finally willing to admit that she wanted him.
*Of course, who am I fooling? I've always wanted Dar...*
She had never let herself think it until now, until this very moment. But, she was finally gripped with the overwhelming desire to throw all of "the rules" to the wind. Suddenly, simple contact through intertwined fingers wasn't enough.
She wanted more.
But, Dar still looked like he was deliberating and Etain felt agonizingly awkward. She wanted Dar to make the first moves, to show her what to do.
*Of course, he's never even thought of doing this, either...*
Etain wanted him to let go of her hand, to stand up, to pick her up, to sweep her off her feet. It was a hopelessly and completely unrealistic romantic fantasy and, she knew it. But, a girl could dream.
So, she dreamed. For about two seconds. She stared thoughtfully at their hands, unable to keep looking up at him, for the moment. She shifted a bit in her seat, uncertain of what to do. She wanted Darman the man to make his moves...but usually in such tenuous situations, she got the Darman that still felt like a young boy. It wasn't his fault, of course; he'd been trained for the pathology of war, not for the psychology of human relationships.
He didn't know what to do now, any more than she did. And, unfortunately, in many ways, Etain knew that she probably had the clearer idea, of the two.
After a few floundering moments, she finally found some small amount of daring - fueled by the fluttering flashes that twisted through her heart - and started to lift his hand up in hers.
"Dar," Etain whispered softly, before kissing his fingers gently.
Darman's eyes focused instantly and Etain's lips froze against his skin. Their eyes locked and she was shocked by the look that crossed his face.
She'd seen this look plenty of times, right before Dar would put on his helmet and pick up his DC-17. It was the look that warned that "down time" was over and that it was now time to start the real work.
Etain lifted her head from over their hands and started to lean back in her chair. A slow, darkly sexy smile curled the corners of Darman's lips for a moment, before he let go of her hand, pushed back the cooling remnants of their barely-eaten dinner, and stood up.
His smile faded, replaced by that intense look of almost feral concentration.
"Sergeant Skirata told us all something once, about Mandalorian men and their women," his voice had deepened into a lower octave that Etain had never heard before.
This "new" voice did funny things to her stomach.
"He told us that Mandalorian men should always respect strong women and strive to always be with strong women."
Etain watched with widening eyes as Darman began to round the corner of the table; his fingers ghosted along the top of the table as he practically prowled toward her.
His eyes never left hers. A strange heat flushed warm just under her skin, as she watched him, fascinated.
This was Darman the man as she'd never quite seen him before.
Even if she had wanted to talk, she couldn't have. Her tongue was firmly locked into place on the roof of her very dry mouth.
"But, Kal also told us that behind closed doors," Dar stopped beside her and reached out a suddenly confident hand to stroke his fingers across the curve of her jaw. "It's the Mandalorian man who should take the lead in private quarters."
His fingers curled gently around her chin, as he lifted her face up to look at him.
"I don't really know what I'm doing," he admitted, vulnerable again. "But, I'll take the lead, Et'ika, if you're unsure."
Etain hesitated for one minute more. And then, she abruptly pushed herself to her feet and threw her arms around Darman's neck.
She wasn't quite bold enough to kiss him, but she nuzzled her face between his neck and his shoulder. Her lips brushed against the rough fabric of his GAR fatigues and she was gripped by the overwhelming desire to taste his skin. One of Dar's hands settled almost instinctively against her lower back and she shivered against the feel of his body, solid and warm underneath the seperation of their clothes.