This was previously known as “After Hoth” but I decided to include it in the main fic.
Interlude: Warmth
As soon as she was aboard, she messaged him briefly on the commlink to stand off from the Hoth station into orbit and went to have a shower. A long, hot shower.
Half an hour later, she came into the cockpit and flopped gracefully into her command seat, curling up with her feet under her. “Mission accomplished. Xerander is dead. So is the Jedi he came to see.”
“Would you like to send a report to Darth Baras, my lady?”
She cast a glance at him, moving nothing but her half-lidded eyes, her body language saying ‘do I look like I want to send a report?‘ “I’m not sending anything until I’ve had a bit of a rest. I used all the hot water and I still feel the cold. I just fought two Jedi, one of them a very annoying Master, a pack of ravenous Talz with only one ravenous Talz and Pierce to assist, and then speedered all the way back to base. Which was a very long way. Pierce complained.”
Of course he did. Her voice was not as precise and haughty as it usually was. She really was tired. “Understood, my lady.” Lord Baras wouldn’t be pleased at the delay, but the success she brought should offset that. He would transmit a note of mission complete anyway. She wouldn’t rest for long. In fact, chances were she wouldn’t rest for long enough.
She closed her eyes. “If you could angle the ship so the sun shines in, that would be glorious,” she murmured, nine-tenths asleep already. Surely she wasn’t comfortable in that chair.
Obligingly, he nudged the controls, and the light from Hoth’s weak sun shone into the cockpit, on her face, her white hair. “So even the Dark Side craves the light of the sun.” And he braced himself for her ire. He so rarely indulged in teasing her, though it would be very easy sometimes…
But she wasn’t angry, although she cracked open her eyes enough that he caught a glimpse of golden glare. “No, of course not, I only enjoy the cold black evil void of space – or my heart.” She snorted, amused by her own sarcasm.
“Your heart is far from a cold black void,” he said before he knew what he was saying.
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly. “Then what is it?”
This was a trap, wasn’t it? “You are a raging dark fire, my lady. You destroy enemies of the Empire with righteous fury.” That didn’t give away too much, did it?
“Oh, Quinn, you’re such a sweetheart,” she murmured, and if she were awake, she would have cackled, but now she was only gently smiling with her eyes closed.
He made no answer and went back to work. Her breathing became slow and even.
A few moments later, she shivered, even under the sunlight, and he looked over at her. She was wearing warm clothes, wearing the grey dress from Alderaan, but she was frowning in her sleep. Dreaming of Hoth? He hesitated, considering his options, then stood, undid his uniform jacket, and draped it over her gently, then sat down again, left in his long-sleeved black undershirt. Just to be on the safe side, he bumped the temperature of the cockpit and her quarters up by two degrees.
Her expression had eased, and she looked so peaceful, curled in her seat, and very young and vulnerable. He should know better than to think that. The maalraas jungle cat in her was only sleeping, not dead. He would never allow himself to forget that even asleep, she was the most dangerous person on the ship.
But his gaze lingered on her, the way her hair reflected the sunlight, the hollows of her eyes light without eyeshadow, the way her soft pink lips were slightly parted in sleep. Under his jacket, he could see the dainty slenderness of her waist and the lyrical curve of her hips. Her head was tilted to one side, resting on her shoulder, and on the other side he could see the soft smooth skin under her jaw; if he stared, he could even see her pulse fluttering below the soft smooth skin under her jaw. He… longed for…
No. He’d already spent too much time wrestling with his yearning as it was without tempting himself further. Even if he dared, she would either strangle him instantly, startled by what might seem like an attack, or else she would sexually harass him. Again. His resolve was on thin enough ice as it was, with the way she had kissed him the other day. He turned determinedly back to his work, studiously ignoring the lethal Sleeping Beauty behind him.
“Did you have to use all the hot water, Lina, like all of it?” Vette’s voice drifted down to the cockpit, announcing the Twi’lek’s imminent arrival. He spun around with his finger to his lips and Vette halted in her tracks, taking in the scene. “Awww. That’s so cute.”
“She should sleep in her quarters,” he said softly.
“You’re right,” Vette said. “So take her there.You’re a big strong man, maybe not as big and strong as Pierce, but you can handle it, right?
He gave her a suspicious look. “You have some nefarious purpose in mind.”
“Yep! You know me too well. But right now it’s not to do with… Moff Broysc, right? Right?” She made fingerguns and pointed them at him.
He ignored the dig. “Please go make sure her quarters are ready for her.” The last thing they needed was the violent Talz disturbing her.
“Okiy-doke,” Vette said, with a wink and a knowing glance at his jacket.
While the Twi’lek was gone, he took one more look at her. Who knew the next time he’d see her in such repose…
She was not so tall, and not so heavy, he knew from observation and some little experience. But could he lift her and carry her all the way to her quarters without her waking? Her senses and reflexes were among the best in the entire galaxy, and with the Force to aid her… but usually that only registered on those with hostile intent, didn’t they? He didn’t know how it worked.
He exhaled through his nose, stood, and bent to try. If she took his head off, it was only his own fault.
She made no sign as he rose with her in his arms; she shifted slightly, cuddling up to his warmth and solidity, but that was all. And it was flattering, it sent his heart beating a little faster, but he had to stay calm. She really was tired if she wasn’t reacting to all this. Unless she was playing him. It wasn’t her style, but he wouldn’t put it past her.
He laid her down on her bed, and Vette was there to slip her boots off and tuck her in under the covers. He retrieved his jacket, resisted the urge to kiss her cheek, and backed out of the room. He’d send that note to Darth Baras when she woke.
Neither he nor Vette saw her smile.