Atton stalked restlessly through the corridors of the Ebon Hawk. A certain Jedi Exile was driving him out of his mind. Raia seemed to be everywhere he looked lately, and on the rare occasions when she was out of sight he couldn't stop thinking about her. It wasn't that he didn't like her, far from it; the problem was that he liked her way too much and couldn't do a damn thing about it. The Jedi code forbade any kind of emotional attachment, and they were particularly fierce about the kind he had in mind. He shuddered to think about what Kreia would do to him if she invaded his mind and discovered his less than pure thoughts about Raia.
Landing on Nar Shaddaa had made the whole thing worse. He had been crazy about her long before they arrived on the Smuggler's Moon, but he had been managing to control himself. But ever since she had donned the skimpy dancer's outfit to entertain Vogga, reigning in his desire had become considerably harder. Images of her writhing in the scraps of red and gold fabric had a tendency to flash through his mind at the worse possible moments, like when he was around HK-47. The droid had an embarrassing habit of announcing to everyone within hearing range that Atton's levels of physiological arousal had just skyrocketed. It had caused a considerable amount of snickering in the past, especially amongst Mira and Mandalore. Raia, ever the innocent, normally looked worried and asked him if he needed to lie down in the med bay for a while.
Atton spotted Mical coming out of the refresher and made a quick dash for the cockpit, hoping that he hadn't seen him. The holier than thou padawan annoyed the hell out of him. He was always trying to play the hero to impress Raia, always acting so noble and righteous. Atton couldn't stand the way he fawned over her, and her eternal patience with him was infuriating. His one consolation was that if he couldn't have her, neither could Mical. Raia, disillusioned with the Jedi who had cast her out of the order, might consider breaking their code. Mical never would, and so would never be able to act on his infatuation with his master.
Safe in the cockpit, Atton sank into the pilot's seat and pulled his pazaak deck from his pocket. Everyone else was in bed so he had no choice but to play the card game on his own. As he shuffled the cards idly, he allowed himself to drift off into a familiar daydream. He made sure to throw up mental walls (one of the first things Raia had taught him when she agreed to train him) so that the manipulative old scow down the hall wouldn't be able to force her way into his mind and see what he was thinking. Satisfied that his thoughts were safe, he allowed himself to think about Raia in that dancer's outfit...
A loud clang startled him out of his pleasant imaginings. It was the sound of the cockpit door sliding shut. Annoyed, he turned around to see who had invaded what had become his domain and was startled to see Raia. She had clearly just gotten out of bed; her hair was tussled and, although she was wearing one of her many robes, she didn't have on the leggings that normally went underneath it. She grinned lazily at Atton and took a sip of whatever was in the mug she held.
Atton smiled back at her, all irritation suddenly evaporating. "Hey there, Gorgeous." He drawled. "What are you doing up?"
Raia shrugged and leant back against the closed door. "Couldn't sleep."
"So you came to see me? I'm flattered."
"You're the only one still awake." She said, and then at his look of mock hurt she added, "And I'm in the mood for a few games of pazaak."
Atton sighed. "That's all you ever want me for. Alright, but we're still playing Republic Senate style."
"Actually I was wondering if we could play by a different set of rules."
He looked at her in surprise. "Are you sure you want to play for credits? Out of all the games we've had you've won about ten."
"I never said anything about playing for credits." She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I want to play using Nar Shaddaa rules."
Atton almost dropped his cards. "Um... Do you know what Nar Shaddaa rules are?" He asked, a slight tremble in his voice. Raia smiled sweetly and reached behind her to lock the door. "Guess you do." Atton mumbled.
"As far as I understand it," Raia purred, moving towards the co-pilot's seat. "We bet clothes instead of credits. It should certainly make the game more... interesting than usual."
Atton looked at her in disbelief as she made herself comfortable in the chair. Out of all the things that he had expected to happen tonight, this wasn't even on the list. Kreia falling to her knees and professing her undying love for him, or HK confessing a secret love of kittens would have been less of a surprise than Raia offering to strip for him. He couldn't even imagine where she had heard of the risquΓ© set of rules. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked her.
"Well, if you don't want to..." She made to get out of the chair.
"No, no! I want to play." He hurried to reassure her, not wanting to lose what might be his only chance to undress her.
A look of satisfaction flickered across her face as she sat back. "Well, what are you waiting for? Place your bet and deal. I wager my belt."
"My jacket." He muttered as he hastily began to deal the cards. He won the first game, but it was a near thing. Raia had come much closer to beating him than she usually did. She undid her belt, pulled it free of her robe and let it fall to the floor. Her robe now hung open slightly, showing a small slither of her flesh. Trying not to get distracted, Atton began to deal the cards again. "I bet the jacket again."
"I bet my robe."
Atton won the second game easily. Raia stood up and slipped the robe off her shoulders, letting it pool around her feet. Atton felt his heart leap into his throat; this was very different from the last time he had seen her in her underwear. Then she had been wearing a scruffy bodysuit, which was definitely the worse for wear from having to fight her way through hoards of malfunctioning droids. This time she was wearing a sumptuous concoction of black lace, the dark material contrasting beautifully with her pale skin. Her full breasts swelled above her bra and her panties clung to her, accentuating the soft curves of her waist. She allowed Atton a few moments to drink his fill of the sight of her and then sat back down. She mumbled her next bet so quietly that Atton couldn't make out the words, but he didn't care. He would be happy with whichever piece of her underwear came off next.
Atton repeated his bet of his jacket and dealt out the cards. To his amazement he lost the next game, busting at 25. As Raia grinned smugly at him, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the floor. "I don't know what you're looking so happy about." He growled. "I'm still doing better than you."
Her smug expression remained in place. "My bet remains the same. What are you losing next?"
"I bet my shirt, but I doubt I'll be losing it. That win was a fluke."
To Atton's great annoyance, his shirt was on the floor several minutes later. He couldn't understand why he was doing so badly; normally he wiped the floor with Raia. It was typical that the one time he really didn't want to lose would be the time that she suddenly got good. She repeated her bet and he wagered his trousers.
In less than a minute his trousers had joined the shirt on the floor, and now it was Raia who was raking her eyes over his body appreciatively. At least he had figured out why he was playing so badly; Raia's near nakedness was far too much of a distraction. Whenever he tried to concentrate he found his gaze being drawn irresistibly back to her. He forced himself to look away from her, consoling himself with the thought that he'd get to see far more if he won the next game.
His self discipline paid off and he won the next game. He gazed at Raia eagerly, wondering which item of clothing she was about to remove. She lifted her arms and tugged off her hair band; her dark, wavy hair fell down past her shoulders. When Atton continued to look at her expectantly she frowned. "What?" She asked.
"I'm waiting for you to pay up! You lost that game."
"But I did pay up; I bet my hair band."
"What?" Atton groaned. "You can't do that."
"Yes I can. You didn't tell me I couldn't when I bet it."
"That's not fair." He growled. "I didn't hear your bet. I was too busy..." His sentence hung unfinished in the air.
Raia arched an eyebrow at him, that sweet smile spreading over her face again. "It's not my fault that you don't pay attention. Now deal. I bet the bra."
Atton let go of his irritation immediately and began to deal out the cards, after betting the only item of clothing he had left. This game lasted much longer than the others, as neither of them wanted to show the other their hand. Atton had an eighteen, two away from the perfect twenty. It wasn't great, especially not for him, but there was nothing he could do about it. Praying that Raia's luck was worse than his, he lay his cards out for her to see. As Raia's brow creased his hopes rose. She threw down her cards, revealing that she only had seventeen.