Midnight Special

[Connor Harrison]

Pursing his lips with a nod, Connor commented.

"I’m sure you’ll see him again if you wanted. You can have your dance next time."

He looked at her fiddling with his jacket.

"Pragmatic is my middle name. Or was. I’ve always had to look at things like that, but using pain as a fuel is something I’ve always done, but emotionally? I’ve been good at…pushing people away if they get close, or I get close or…you know? And then I over-think things and over-compensate and it all goes wrong, and I withdraw, and close up."

He lolled his head back on the sofa.

"Such a pain in the arse, I tell you. The Jedi made me a robot and now I’m trying to think and act like a human again."

The lights above were warm and fuzzy…or was that just his head? His hands tapped either side of him. He let out a long exhale through his nose.

"If you need to go, don’t feel you have to stay by the way. I don’t want to keep you from anything. I’ve got a question for you if you want to stay."

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her lips curled up in a soft, self-satisfied smile.

"Oh, I'm sure the Captain and I will meet again."

She chuckled darkly. Feeling a breeze from the patio blowing through, cooling her flushed skin, she dragged his jacket from where it lay folded over the back of the couch and draped it over her shoulders. She raised an eyebrow, willing Connor to object to the move and returned to her former position.

His scent clung to the jacket and floated up around her, a spicy-sweet aroma that was purely a masculine trait. She closed her eyes and listened as he talked, thinking back to her own lack of personal connections.

"Infuriating is the word we agreed on, I believe."

She reached out and traced the red scars running along the back of his hand lightly. She raised her gaze to his, head tilted slightly in question.

"I'm quite comfortable here, unless of course you want to sit in contemplation on your own. Although, if that is the case, may I suggest leaving the brandy alone?" She glanced at the two empty glasses, a quiet laugh escaping her lips.

"Color me curious."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He didn’t mind about his jacket, not at all. One thing he wanted to be was a gent, and if one needed warmth, one could have one’s jacket….he smiled….too many ones.

Ara was such good company. Refreshing and intoxicating in equal measure. He was touched she had taken to him, and grateful for her company and help. As he looked around at the lounge, still busy with a few bodies but with a far more carefree and peaceful mood, he didn’t flinch or mind again at her tracing his scars on the back of his hand.

"No. I’d like you to stay. Colour me….gentlemanly. If that’s a word."

He looked at her – those dreamy eyes – and then to his hand with her touch as soft as silk and cool as a breeze.

"Your First Order docs did a good job on that." He turned the hand over so she could continue the trace onto his palm where it curled in a crescent moon shape. "How’s your shoulder? Don’t think I haven’t noticed, or regret leaving such a mark on you."

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She obligingly continued trailing her finger along his scars as he flipped his hand over. The curling shape of the scar caught her attention as she ran her finger along to the edge and then back. Idly she wondered how he'd react if she applied pressure to the old wound. She paused, finger resting in the center of the puckered skin.

"As you said before, they are as good as the ones on Voss. Personally, I think they might be better."

She'd taken her own trip to the renowned medical centre the day before, her shin, head, and ribs now as good as they'd been before she and the man sitting with her had decided to go toe-to-toe for pride and exercise.

The reminder of their first meeting brought her thoughts around to his easy and relaxed state. You trust too easily, Connor, The thoughts flitted across her mind, a slight frown momentarily settling onto her face. He was relaxed and at ease around her, partially due to the amount of alcohol in his system, and partially due to...what? She shook her head slightly, hair falling around her face, the easy smile returning.

She chuckled and shrugged the jacket enough to show the light pink line of smooth skin.

"It might be the first mark, but it won't be the last. You should be flattered, Connor, everyone remembers their first."

Her eyes glimmered with the thinly veiled innuendo.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

If only you could see me yesterday
Who I used to be before the change
You'd see a broken heart
You'd see the battle scars
It's funny how words can't explain
How good it feels to finally break the chains
I'm not what I have done
I'm what I've overcome

 

[Connor Harrison]

His head leaned to one side, watching her finger glide over and stop. There was feeling there, a dull tickle which wasn’t as nice as it would have been on fresh flesh, but he’d take it.

"Don’t count on Voss healers. It’s all remedies and very stagnant machinery and droids. Don’t know how the hell I survived and patched myself up to be honest."

It was hard not to smile meet her gaze at her comment. This one was wild.

"I’m glad I could leave a mark. I’ll have to try again sometime. Be a bit more gentle."

He couldn’t help look at her. Complimenting his own brain, Connor thought he was doing good at keeping his thoughts to himself, even with the aid of the beverages.

"You bear anymore war wounds from your exploits?"

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her smile widened as her returned her innuendo with one of his own. At least he could tease back; she couldn't stand the men who fell all over themselves the moment a pretty girl made a passing comment or smiled in their direction. Of course, she already knew that. He hadn't let her teasing the other day get to him, he wouldn't now. She gave him a nod of approval, the wicked glint still present in her eyes.

"And while you're trying to be all nice and gentlemanly, I'll kick your ass across the floor."

She returned to tracing the scars along his hand, almost an afterthought at this point. It was something to do with her hands since her glass was empty and she refused to order another. She resettled the jacket on her shoulders with her free hand.

At his question she turned his hand over and continued tracing the thin red lines.

"I'm assuming you mean physical scars." She shook her head slightly, a rueful smile directed at nothing in the distance. "No, the healer who patched me up after...the fall, was very very good."

She had her fair share of scars, scrapes and bruises from years on the street. Fights had been unavoidable, as had the thin white scars that accompanied slashes and stabs when she was too slow to avoid a hit. She was sure that a few would be visible if someone was desperate enough to look, she'd long ago lost track of their locations. Many of them had been gone when she'd woken up in the med ward three years ago.

She didn't mention the emotional scars. He knew already and had first hand experience with one of the biggest scars she carried.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He listened, a thin smile forming as he took in more of her beauty – beauty, now was it? – and her reflections on her past. But he scoffed at her overly-confident comment.

"I’m glad they have good teams here. You may need them if you get any more little cuts and bruises next time you try to take me down. Don’t you know who I am lady? Connor Harrison – a name that strikes fear into all those standing against the Jedi. Until now, anyway, and I do that striking to the Jedi myself."

He chuckled and stretched his fingers out for her to trace over in a wonderfully sensual experience.

"One day remind me to show you mine. BUT…need to get to know you a little bit more. Just a little. Don’t want to make you blush or anything. And then you can do that to all the scars, with your healing fingers. See."

Connor brought his other hand and traced his fingers atop hers, whilst she traced him.

"Healing fingers. You have that magic touch."

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara let out a short barking laugh of true amusement at his cockiness. She smiled as he reacted to her touch, tracing from the scars down to the tips of his fingers and back. The movement was mildly hypnotic to her, a light constant motion.

"Careful, Connor, I'd hate to have to knock you off that pedestal of yours. Actually, no, I wouldn't - I would enjoy every second of it."

She chuckled and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes as he started tracing her fingers with his own. Other than the long baths she let herself enjoy after her daily sparring matches, she hadn't let herself enjoy a simple moment in quite a while. The sensation combined with the lightly fuzzy feeling of the alcohol in her system raised goose bumps along her skin, the tingling feeling of contentment dancing along her skin.

She should get up and walk away. After all, he was not yet an ally, barely even an acquaintance. But his brashness and the simple act of calling her on her arrogance kept her in his company long after she should have left.

"Wishful thinking, Harrison?"

Giving in to her earlier impulse, she turned his hand over and traced the crescent moon shaped scar, this time applying the slightest bit of pressure to the old wound, curious as to his reaction. A small smear of crimson blood trailed from her finger, the small cut from earlier busting open at the added pressure.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He looked at her with eyes that spoke more than words, the corner of his mouth slightly curled. So this was what the darkness felt like when you could be...you.

As she went back over the scar, he winced a little - only a little - at her pressure applied. Still tender in certain spots, and she knew it.

Looking down, the blood was from her finger gently smeared across his palm.

"Look at that," he said, raising his palm to his mouth and sucking the blood away. "You be careful."

Taking her finger, he looked at it and gently teased the blob of blood away with his lips.

"Keep an eye on that awful wound. You may need to take break to recover."

He cupped her hand in his, and then at back, and clicked his fingers, before rolling his eyes.

"Where are my manners? I never asked you before, and your date seems to have stood you up. So," he stood, holding his hand out, "would this Ren care for a dance?"

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The disciple ignored the dangerous look in his eyes. If she acknowledged it, she'd have to make a decision. one she wasn't quite ready to make. Instead, she focused on his hand, barely catching the wince he made in her peripheral vision. Her lips curled up as he didn't pull away. For the first time, she noticed the slight stinging sensation from her finger as the wound opened again, quickly replaced by the warm sensation of his lips.

She watched, raising an eyebrow just a hair, her smile never changing.

"Just another war wound for you to ask about."

She chuckled quietly and reclaimed her hand, resting her chin in the palm as he stood. Her eyes widened in surprise as he offered his hand, and a dance. A pleased smile spread across her face as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"I didn't take you for a dancer. All you ex-Jedi types seem a bit stiff." She teased, glancing at her shoes on the far side of the couch. "Hold on..." She released his hand and leaned over, quickly slipping the heels onto her feet.

Draping his jacket back over the edge of the couch she turned and offered her hand again.

"Where were we?"

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

As the lights continued to gleam around them in the lounge and outside in the night of the city, Connor stayed standing, hand out, waiting. He just smiled, rolling his eyes a little at her doing what all good women did - make themselves immaculate.

"Thank you," he said, taking her hand.

Moving her away from the sofa, Connor took them to the side, with the framing of the city behind them but not close enough for her to feel exposed to the height. He placed his left hand in the square of her back, and cupped her right hand gently as he started to sway.

Nothing thrilling, but the gentle mood music of the lounge and the company was enough to make it.

"The last time I danced, I was at a Masquerade Ball and just as stiff. Didn't dance for long so let's see if you beat the record."

That particular memory would once pain him. Now? It was just that. A memory.

"You know, I can't even remember...did I say how stunning you look tonight? I mean, those Ren robes are killer, but this? This suits you."

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She allowed him to pull her away from the small collection of seating, resting her left hand on his shoulder and her right hand in his. It was different from her dance with Pharazon early. That had been a waltz, a choreographed set of moves that each partner knew intrinsically and followed without question. This was intimate and unplanned, two people moving with the music, no end goal and wholly unpredictable.

She smiled softly, enjoying both dances for different reasons. The lights and sounds of the lounge blended into the background, she had to admit it was just as lovely as the ballroom downstairs, just different.

"A Masquerade Ball? Sounds thrilling. And here you had me thinking the Jedi only threw tea parties and lectures."

She had been to one or two Masquerades on Coruscant and loved them. The anonymity and mystery of the masks added an allure that a normal banquet couldn't touch. And the gowns the woman wore were extravagant. It was amazing the difference between the upper-echelon and the dregs of society.

With the compliment she looked up, meeting his gaze instead of enjoying the dancing lights around them. Her hair brushed against his hand where it rested, a comforting weight on her back.

"I believe a comment or two was made, although, it could have been about the city instead of the company." She laughed softly and winked. "A girl always likes to be appreciated. Especially by a handsome gentleman in a nice suit."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

It was hard to look out at the city now when the dance partner was simply sublime.

"The city looks good too," Connor said. "And I appreciate both right now."

Connor hadn't danced for years, and so simply swayed gently to and fro, turning Ara as he went with the music. His hand on her back flexed gently so she would feel an active hold on her.

"Don't be mean to the Jedi, darling. They do their best with the backwards civilization they adhere to. The lectures form a crucial backbone of their philosophy....god I'm boring myself."

He pulled away for a second, keeping hold of her hand, holding it up for a slow spin before taking her back in his arms.

"You know one of your best features? Your eyes. They tell me so much about you, they're perfect."

The hand moved again slightly, and he winked back at her quickly.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

As he pulled back, she followed the movement of his arm, spinning slowly with the music before coming back to rest against him. This time she rested her hand at the base of his neck as they continued dancing.

"I'm going to start wondering if they slipped something in your drink."

She laughed lightly, the light pressure of his hand sending a shiver from the crown of her head all the way to her toes. He was attempting to charm her, doing his best to play the same game she'd played so many times before. Compliments, a coy look, subtle touches. They were all small pieces of a bigger puzzle. It was rare that she found herself on the opposite side of the encounter and she was content to enjoy it for an evening.

"Are they?"

She lowered her lids and focused on the city skyline through the window from over his shoulder. WIth his hand on her back and the distance between them and the window, she was comfortable with the view, her anxiety staying at bay. She glanced back up at him from beneath lowed lids.

"And what are they telling you, Mr. Harrison? What secrets are my eyes giving away?"

He'd analyzed her once, near perfectly, minutes after they first met. She wondered what his thoughts were now, in a very different setting after a very different topic of conversation.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Again, he pulled his head back a little, not breaking contact and keeping the momentum in their make-shift dance.

"Ohh that would be telling. It's for me to know and you to...probably never find out. Unless you wanted to."

Turning his head a little, toying with her and looking in her eyes in various directions, he sighed to himself.

"They just tell me when you're sad, and when happy. When you're not here, but when you're lost in a memory from years ago. There's confidence there. There's passion. Admiration. Determination. Lots of..nnnns."

He chuckled and, for a second, ran his hand up and down her back, glancing out the window. Her aura was feeding into him, and it was nice to be able to read a bit about the person without feeling blind to their emotion.

"Are you...shivering because of the cold, or because you're dancing with me?"

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She followed his side to side motion, her smile never fading. She shook her head, laughing as he described her in various 'nnns'. She couldn't argue with his choice of descriptors, except for one, and she said as much.

"Admiration?"

She raised an eyebrow in question.

His hand moving along her spine elicited another small shiver. She worked hard to suppress it, but knew he would feel the slight tremor through the thin fabric of her dress.

"It's for me to know and you to...probably never find out." She purred, mimicking his comment from the moment before.

Smiling wickedly, she ran a nail lightly up and down the back of his neck from the edge of his collar to his hairline. She tilted her head, long hair falling over her left shoulder as they continued dancing.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With a feigned look of pain, Connor tsk’d gently.

"How doth my beating heart ache with such a statement, Lady Ara."

But, he couldn’t help but smile and continue his gently swaying. The music seemed to fade out and a more soft-jazz infused number came on. Connor had taken his dance, and it had been wonderful. Stepping back, he trailed his other hand to hers, and held them both out before him.

"I can say I enjoyed that, so thank you."

He gave a little bow, and walked around her, and as he did, a gentle couple of pats on her well-formed behind on the way back to the sofa, in which he simply climbed over the top to take a seat.

"Do the Order do this often? These functions and wild nights? You must have seen your fair share of socialising, am I right?"

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She chuckled at his feigned pain and shook her head at his flowery language. She returned his bow with one of her own, swatting his hand away when he took liberties as he made his way around her. She turned and crossed her arms, a feigned stern expression leveled at him.

"Mr. Harrison! And here I thought you were a true gentleman."

She raised an eyebrow at his method of climbing over the back of the sofa instead of simply skirting around the edge like any normal, civilized person would. She sighed and held up a hand, signaling for her companion to wait for the answer when she returned. Ordering two cups of coffee, she returned to the seating area they had procured for their use, the waiter hurrying behind her with a small container of cream and sugar.

He swiped the empty brandy glasses and scurried away before she could do much more than thank him. Placing one of the mugs in front of the ex-Jedi, she returned to her position on the edge of the sofa, curling her legs under her and propping one arm on the edge of the couch.

Having already added a liberal amount of cream and sugar, she took a sip of the warm liquid, smiling as she inhaled the scent of roasted beans.

"The First Order does their fair share of fundraising, our efforts are not cheap, you know. They like to take care of their veterans and wounded, unlike others who prefer to discard their soldiers when they are no longer useful."

Another sip followed the disapproving comment, bitter with anger. Too many wagged war in the galaxy and then failed to support their own citizens. The Order was different. They valued sacrifice and dedication. Moving on to his second question, she smiled over the rim of the coffee cup.

"I spent the last three years of my life on Coruscant doing just that, socializing. It's a beautiful way to live. Judging by what you said earlier, I take it these events were few and far between during your life on Voss?"

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With an amused expression, Connor just watched Ara protest in such a weak way, and then order them drinks. More whis - ah, coffee. Now that was good. He sat up as she came back with the waiter, providing a stellar service as the night , or early morning, ticked on. He didn’t even know what time it was, and didn’t really care.

Letting her pour first, Connor looked at his own and gave himself a healthy amount of sugar and cream – or milk as he added on Voss – and gave it a god stir. That sugary roast scent was very inviting, and with a gentle blow on the surface, Connor took a generous sip and gave a content sigh.

"Mm, thank you,” he said with a little toast before putting the cup down. "And I respect that about the First Order. It’s clear they care. From a Jedi background, their Order is their own family. Everyone else is expendable, even their own.” He gave a slightly irritated laugh, the disgust rising for a second. "You know what I mean? All that one with the Force crap, an easy way to blame death on anyone but themselves when they cause so much and fail to take the rap or fight for a cause worth dying for at all.”

He pushed his tongue into his cheek and looked up at Ara, a small shake of the head.

"This is a real eye-opener.”

With that, he took another sip. And then another.

"But, no, they don’t do this. Anything they try to do socially is to benefit them. A function where they get a slice of territory. Helping a city for a sector of it. Meet and greet socilaites or political figures in exchange for resources and fleet. None of this. Nothing that allows you to feel…human.”

Drawing a circle on the rim of his cup, he mulled over a question and took a shot.

"You ever killed anyone, Ara?”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She took another long sip of her coffee, savoring the burn of the almost too hot liquid and the warmth of the liquid fighting off the slight chill from the open windows and patio doors. She shook her head as he spoke of the ulterior motives of the Jedi Order. Sad really, that such a group could be so self-serving in the name of bringing 'peace' to the galaxy.

They denied themselves simple pleasures and emotions in the name of balance and calm, but in doing so, drove their own away from the power that could truly make a difference.

"What is the point of anything if you do not allow yourself to live?"

She mused, curious as to what drove the Jedi and motivated them into such a repugnant and boring existence. Did they truly believe that robbing themselves of the joys and pains of the universe around them did anything but stifle their abilities and potential? She took another sip and pondered her thoughts. Her pain, her fear, her anger, they all drove her further, pushed her to test her own boundaries and power. As with the glass earlier, even an attack of anxiety could be used to fuel the Force within her and become a weapon. The Jedi denied themselves that power and weakened themselves. It was a wonder they continued to exist at all.

His question was direct and to the point, so was her answer.

"Yes."

In her first directive as a member of the Ren, in fact. She'd been tasked with hunting down a criminal and dispatching him, a task she'd completed without question or remorse. She had killed before, mostly by accident, fights that got out of hand, in the struggle for survival on the streets. She'd killed when she had accompanied her Master on a trip to Rakata Beta in search of ancient Darkside artifacts.

She had blood on her hands and not a single life taken bothered her. She turned to meet the Jedi's gaze, a bit of the darkness inside creeping out into her eyes.

"I killed to establish my place in the Order, because they ordered me to. I have killed in the search of artifacts, long lost from the universe. I have killed for survival."

She paused and took another sip, a dark smile, different from before, curling up her lips. She killed because she loved it; the feeling of control over life and death, of the Force drawing life and power from the spilt blood. The feeling of the fear emanating from her victims. It fueled her and drove her on, as her own fears and anger did.

"And you, Connor? Have you killed?"

She met his gaze with a challenging one of her own. She knew the answer, but would he be truthful? Would he admit, even to himself, the power that death brought?

"Why?"

[member="Connor Harrison"]