First Reply Permanent Way

[Bernard]

Bernard leaned on both his elbows, keeping his arms overlapping.

It had been a busy few weeks, he hadn't noticed any feelings of longing like this, not that he did so often. However, he might have simply been too distracted; he judged from the warmth coursing through his cheeks and the scrambled sensation that tossed his thoughts into disorder.

He reached for the cup of tea and raised it to take a sip, but hesitated. The warmth rising from it tickled his lips, echoing the warmth he'd felt moments ago.

"Then that could hardly have been enough to satisfy," he said and finally took a sip of the tea, a nice, subtly flowery flavour.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

It still didn’t feel real that they could tease like this without time’s threat ticking away in the corner. She tried not to think about it, but it was hard to accept the present and its unfathomable generosity. Even if it was exactly what she’d asked for.

“Mm.” She agreed, comfortably watching him. He seemed content to settle into his tea, his chair, their conversation. There was nothing hurried about his movements. It was nice, and that feeling of calm, contentedness was something she could find contagious.

“But I’m working on my patience.”

Her free hand wandered across the surface of the table and circled around her cup, giving it a swirl before she looked down at the amethyst hot water.

“How’s your tea?”

 

[Bernard]

Rootleaf seemed to win out in the contest of flavours. Ishida’s grimaces whenever she sipped the deychin tea were telling enough.

"It's nice. You can try some if you wish." He held the cup out on an open palm.

While he waited on Ishida’s decision, his thoughts circled back a little earlier.

"Practicing patience?" He hummed. "It seems more along the lines of a practice of restraint. You didn't wait a moment to go for the kiss."

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“Thanks.” She accepted the offer, and transitioned to sip the tea that hadn’t been brewed so heavily. Where the deychin was bitter and overemphasized licorice, the rootleaf tasted far more natural.

“You made the better choice.” She admitted, and handed it back to him, glancing forlornly at her cooling tea and gesturing at it for him to take if he was so brave. “You can verify that if you’d like.”

From birth, Ishida’d been trained to take what she wanted. It was the first thing she wanted to say when he’d said he was unable to fulfill her request. It took her opening her mouth to say just that, but she clicked it shut instead. It was too easy to foresee a scolding or something against her upbringing that she was constantly struggling against these days. Awareness was a burden as much as duty.

“Then aren’t you glad I’m just practicing, not mastering?”

 

[Bernard]

Bernard pulled on the cup of deyshin with the Force and pushed the rootleaf back to Ishida’s side with his fingers. They’d trade tea cups.

The cup of deyshin leapt from the table into Bernard’s hand, barely avoiding a spill.

"You seem to have mastered the art of restraint already," he smiled and sipped the tea.

It was bitter with a note of salt buried in a more powerful bark note reminiscent of a root he'd once added to a stew. That root had turned out to be so potent in flavour that it had overtaken all other ingredients and turned the stew into a fascinatingly novel experience. After the initial surprise had worn down, the stew had turned out to be very enjoyable.

Bernard took another sip. The tea was no different.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“What, with the tea?” Ishida asked, hesitant to commit to the exchange of beverages so freely. “That’s easy. The taste was not something I liked.”

She smirked and tapped the table next to the greenish tea Bernard had originally ordered. “And if its flavour has transferred, you’ll make practice all the easier.”

 

[Bernard]

Bernard chuckled quietly. He leaned back, extending his legs under the table, and propped his elbows up on the armrests of his chair, bringing his hands together around the cup's paper exterior.

"As though that'll make my irresistibility decrease enough to make a difference." He smiled smugly behind the cover of the tea cup and his hands obscuring the lower half of his face.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

What had he said earlier about her having more self-assurance than he did? Her grin cracked wider, growing more toothsome at her internal jest.

This was nice. Bantering back and forth, happily without any —-

“‘cuse me kids.” The owner from earlier who’d replaced Bernard’s tea was at the side of their table, wringing her hands on a tea towel. “We’re about to do our changeover for dinner service. We’ll be closed in about ten minutes.”

Startled, Ishida glanced up at the faded red-head, then past her. All those people she’d seen putting on their coats to leave hadn’t been replaced by new patrons. Their seat, and maybe one or two other small ones, were the last to leave. And even those other tables were going about collecting their coats and bags to venture outside.

 

[Bernard]

The diner had become less busy. The chime of the doors opening kept sounding, yet the chatter was dying down, not becoming more lively.

Bernard's smile faded, but he hid it behind his teacup mask.

"'cuse me kids."

The voice was startling, pulling him out of his thoughts. The diner's owner had snuck up on them to kick them out.

"Of course," Bernard said, grabbing his jacket a little too quickly.

He awkwardly pushed one arm through one of the jacket's sleeves, only to notice the cup he was still holding that would make getting his arm through the other sleeve a messy affair. He set the cup down, slipping on the other sleeve, and adjusted the jacket around his waist.

The owner shifted her attention elsewhere, assured that her patrons would vacate their seats. She moved to help one of the waiters clean up a large stack of plates and cups from one of the 4-seater tables.

Bernard began to gather himself again. It seemed a shame that the diner closed up so soon and so suddenly. They could return after the switch out was complete, but their moment was gone. He'd started to hope they'd have at least an hour without some major interruption. Yet, the Force seemed to conspire to force them apart when they just settled into enjoying their date.

He stood, taking the cup with him, and stepped over to hold out his hand for Ishida to take.

"That’s that, then," he sighed.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“We still have —-“ Ishida started, but Bernard was already busily getting into his coat. For a second, she watched, amused by his readiness to oblige. The simplest things could make him flounder as if when his body wasn’t going through the muscle memory of battle, he could get tangled up in his own limbs. It was a boyish sort of innocence, probably not well-seen when he was doing his traditional duties. And because it was special and unique to him, she loved it.

Getting dressed was easier for her than for him. Her sleeves were wide, as they often were, inspired by traditional Atrisian patterns. And she placed the lid on her tea last, pulled her hood over her hair, and slipped her hand into his. She leaned into his arm.

“I couldn’t help but notice you turned your holocom off.” Ishida started, placing her pointer finger over the hole in the lid to prevent more heat from escaping now they were on the move. “How long does that last?”

 

[Bernard]

By all reasonable measures, he shouldn't be blushing so much when Ishida leaned into him. However, her weight pressing lightly against his side, the certainty that for now they weren’t half a galaxy apart, caused his complexion to go red.

“That depends—" he coughed, pausing his sentence to finish the tea before they left.

It had been scolding a few moments ago, but through a trick of the Force it became pleasantly warm relative to the weather outside the diner.

He tossed the empty cup into the matter recycler next to the entrance and leaned into the door to push it open. It really did qualify as a museum, truly archaic, this place of unautomated doors.

"Depends entirely on your plans," he finished the sentence.

"I want nothing to interrupt us this time, not until we've done everything you want to today and maybe tomorrow and the day after that, too. The galaxy can wait a few days."

The rain began to tap against his shoulder, pearling off the dark material.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“Tonight’s special is wampa burgers if you kids come back!” The owner hollered over her shoulder, balancing a set of plates against her torso and following behind the waitress.

Ishida raised her hand in quiet thanks to the woman. The menu was of little interest to her, especially when she was too transfixed by Bernard’s unfinished sentence. What existed on the other side of depends kept her breath bated.

It seemed to take forever for him to conclude his train of thought. The door creaked open to the short awning that hovered above the walkway. All along the street’s strip, awnings stretched over storefronts. No longer than one-to-two feet wide. They were effective in keeping the windows and immediate entrance dry, but the run-off was more intense than the consistent rainfall that misted the streets in brooding wet silver.

Finally, he offered her days. Not just the afternoon and evening she’d hoped for. He doubled her desires, and she felt her heart hop in her chest. Reflexively, her hand in his tightened.

How far ahead had he planned this date of theirs? Had he meant to launch into discussing their plight from the moment they arranged to meet up? Did he have those days to spare? Did she? She’d have to try.

“I didn’t plan this far ahead.” She admitted sheepishly and glanced at the hand-drawn loth cat holding two cups stencilled on the door.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard lifted Bernard gave the woman a friendly smile and a wave before he let the door slide closed. Wampa burgers didn’t sound appealing, but their selection of tea had been good.

The pressure on his hand increased, Ishida’s fingers squeezed his. For her size, she had a deceptively strong grip. Something he’d said must have struck a nerve, good or bad he couldn’t tell with her hood down.

“Are you—do you need to reschedule? I can…” he began, uncertain.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

She’d started to take the final sip of her tea when he politely started to talk about calendars or schedules. She swallowed the leafy water down hastily to make room for words to leap out instead.

“No.” Her answer was rushed. It jumped out in a whoosh, and her gaze snapped back to Bernard instead of the doodle. In a motion, the to-go cup found itself in the outdoor mirror of the indoor receptacle.

“No.” Ishida shook her head. “We never get this chance, I don’t want to let anything get in our way either.” As if to prove her point, she let go of his hand and retrieved her own datapad, just as a notification lit up the screen, she turned it off.

“But,” she hesitated, re-pocketed the device and slid her hood back a bit so he could see the subtleties of her smug expression. “Aren’t you usually the one with the plans?”

 

[Bernard]

It had been a surprise. A good kind of surprise. One made sweeter by her mirroring his gesture to turn off all distractions. Bernard smiled. They hadn't had this form of privacy since the infamous return trip in the old X-Wing. He didn't look back to that time as the highlight of their time together, but it was certainly their longest moment of being in each other's company uninterrupted.

"You've gotten a tour of my place on Denon, I thought the reverse might be nice, too?"

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“You want to see how the other half lives, hm?” Ishida’s smile rewound itself tightly around her teeth.

Of course she agreed and stepped out into the street’s rain. Vehicles of different sizes whooshed by, and she stuck out an arm to flag down a cab. Even in the misty atmosphere of Coruscant’s drearier days, drivers had sharp eyes for passengers. It didn’t take long for one to pull over and pause for the pair to slide into its seat.

Ishida gave the address to the driver, who grunted their comprehension.

The driver managed to avoid congestion, taking back routes and alleyways that deviated from major roads. At a few corners, Bernard pointed out where some crimes had happened when he’d been a Marshal stationed in the area. Keenly, Ishida pressed her nose to the window to see where he was pointing to.

“Do you miss it?” She asked as they took another corner, referring to the Marshal life.

 

[Bernard]

"There were a lot of good people in the Marshals. Pech, Sarn, they taught me a lot about what it means to protect rather than to destroy. I think they're part of the reason why I believe what I do about the Force," Bernard said.

Since the attack on Coruscant, he hadn't kept up with anyone outside of the Jedi much, beyond the necessary military contacts. There'd been too much to do on the front with the Maw that he had lacked the time, especially when all his free time went into holocalls or pseudo-date-missions with Ishida, while the others had their hands full with stabilising an out of control political and economic crisis sweeping the lower levels of Coruscant.

"But, how did you end up staying at a high-end hotel chain on Coruscant?"

 

[Ishida Ashina]

“Really.” Ishida exhaled onto the glass. The word turned into an amorphous blob of condensation, and she recoiled from stretching across and back to her seat. The idea that companions who, presumably, weren’t of The Force could have an influence over that which they did not know, was charming.

Bernard didn’t seem like he wanted to recount further memories or events during his time with the marshals, even though this was the first time the characters in his memories had names. Before they’d just been titles, partner, co-worker, another marshal, etcetera. Now they were Sarn and Pech.

She smiled at them.

Through the partition, Ishida glanced in the rearview mirror and made awkward eye contact with the driver before she went about coming up with a response to the question.

“ Aiko Hayata is a family friend.” Was the easiest explanation. “I like the hotel’s design. It’s like all the nuances from home but commercialized.”

In contrast, any living space on Tython in the Hall of The Sun was spartan. And now it just felt like.. responsibility.

“And keeping a room on Prosperity just feels so..” her words were unfinished, but she shuddered as if the crawling of her skin might be enough explanation.

In case it wasn’t, though, Ishida delved deeper. A concerted effort on her part to focus on the many levels of transparency. Try as she might, and through all the advancements she’d made in modernity at the behest of Aiko, the idea of living somewhere with artificial gravity and where oxygen could be a finite resource made her deeply uncomfortable. “It’s a giant ship in space at the end of the day.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she thought of her tolerance on the X-Wing. But transparency and vulnerability were more uncomfortable than knowing you were breathing recycled air, so she flashed an awkward grin and sunk back into her seat.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard couldn’t help but picture it. Ishida standing in front of the viewport of a starship and shaking from fear. Defeated not by a worthy foe but by the concept that there was a freezing cold region absent of any breathable gases and daylight out there.

It was perhaps the cutest thing he'd imagined and learned about her.

He leaned toward her in the back of the speeder, resting his shoulder against hers as he took her hand.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from those evil space stations and starships. Space will have to go through me first," he announced, laughing.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Her first reaction was to get defensive. To slit her eyes into narrow, contemptuous strips and angle her brows so sharply they became a V. A proud huff was building at the back of her throat.

A first reaction, but a brief one.

All the offended explanations, actuallys, and grumbling were quickly diffused. The touch of his hand and sound of his laugh melted away the sharpness of her defense and contagiously etched a smile. What would have been a prideful exhale slipped out as a heh instead.

“My hero,” she faux swooned and twisted to place a small kiss at the top of his cheek, right below his eye, as if he’d just received a medal.

Bernard