Private Sips and Secrets

[Zane Cameron]

​

Zane sat at the bar and sighed, savoring the first sip of his drink. The bar was a well-known establishment for the pilots of Revenant Squadron — a place where war stories were shared, often exaggerated to make them look better. Dimly lit and filled with the low hum of conversation, it was very different from the usual pulsating clubs of Coruscant he visited. Here, the scent of ale hung in the air, but also the occasional whiff of starship fuel, a reminder of the world outside and the life they all led.

Tonight, Zane was in no hurry. The bar, with its well-worn stools and scarred wooden tables, was a sanctuary of sorts. He glanced around, recognizing the familiar faces of his squadron mates scattered throughout the room. Some were playing the famous game of sabacc in the corner, while others were deep in conversation, their laughter ringing out every so often.

The bar's atmosphere was a comfort to Zane. It wasn't just a place to drink — it was a place to decompress, to let go of the constant vigilance that came with being a pilot in these turbulent times. The Empire's presence was still a looming threat despite their loss at Coruscant, and their patrols had been relentless. But here, they could forget for a while.

All that was lacking now, was some good company.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

——- THEN ——-

The sleek metal band caressed her ring finger, wrapping around it with a delicate yet firm embrace. She twisted the band gently, feeling it tighten and mold to her skin. The sensation was more about setting the mood than discomfort, a subtle reminder that she was slipping into her role.

With the strap adjusted to her satisfaction, she turned her attention to perfecting her appearance. She slipped the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders, the fabric sliding smoothly as she reached behind to draw up the zipper. As the zipper climbed, it pressed snugly against the small of her back, shaping the dress to accentuate her curves.

The dress itself was a masterpiece of allure—not revealing, but irresistibly suggestive. It clung in all the right places while flowing gracefully where it mattered, a perfect choice for an evening that promised to be unforgettable. It was the kind of dress that whispered "tonight is special" with every movement.

She unwound the metal band from her finger, admiring the gentle imprint it left behind. A soft smile graced her lips, a rare hint of warmth in her otherwise poised demeanor.

——- NOW ——-

When she walked into the bar, the scene seemed to shift just for her. This was no elegant venue; it was a lively haunt, brimming with boisterous pilots and their equally lively companions. But the moment she stepped in, her presence eclipsed the raucous energy of the room.

Her hair, a cascade of nearly white silk, fell like moonlight to the small of her back, its tips brushing enticingly against her hips with every step. Her dress was a daring flirtation of fabric—short, hugging in all the right places, and swaying provocatively with her every movement. As she glided to the bar, her elegance was unmistakable.

With a smooth, practiced grace, she slid onto a well-worn seat, her gaze catching the bartender's with an electric allure. "Chandrillan raava... two cubes of ice, please," she murmured, her voice a sultry command that made it clear she was accustomed to being obeyed. The bartender, struggling to keep his eyes on his task, managed to serve her with a mixture of admiration and awe.

She traced her fingers over the subtle indentation on her ring finger, then reached out to accept her drink with a languid, deliberate motion. Turning her chair with a sinuous twist, she leaned back against the bar, her body a vision of relaxed confidence. Her glass hovered at her lips, poised but unquenched, as her gaze roved across the room, taking in every detail with a seductive, languorous interest.

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Her entrance hadn't escaped him.

Zane had casually spun on his stool, leaning back against the bar to observe the room. It was always interesting to see what kind of people walked inside, but none of that mattered anymore when he saw her. Dressed to draw every pair of eyes to her, and with a walk that exuded confidence and grace, she moved through the busy establishment until she reached the bar. Zane didn't stir or turn on his stool, deciding to play it cool.

But it was hard not to look at her from the corners of his eyes. Even the bartender struggle, forcing himself to focus on his drink before sliding it her way. When the barkeep finally moved further down the bar to help someone else, Zane saw his chance and slowly turned to face her.

His eyes full of cocky confidence, despite the rapidly beating heart.

"New face around here?" He asked, as he leaned onto his elbow. "Pilot or just passing through?" He slowly raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip from his drink while he did his best to look her in the eyes.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

It didn't take long for the patrons in the bar to notice her. The moment she walked in, heads turned, captivated by her commanding presence. This wasn't surprising; it was exactly what she wanted. However, she wasn't about to make it easy for anyone. Her plan required precision, not allowing for any complications that might draw unwanted attention.

Her eyes, deep and mesmerizing, were partially veiled by her long lashes as she cast a sideways glance at the young pilot. He was a picture of youthful confidence, with a chiseled jawline and the kind of swagger only a flyboy could muster. By human standards, he was strikingly handsome, but he was no match for her.

"Passing through," she said, her voice a sultry blend of amusement and detached indifference.

With that, she returned to savoring her drink, her gaze sweeping the bar with effortless grace. She crossed her legs, revealing just a hint more of her flawlessly sculpted limbs, every movement a masterclass in elegance.


Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

He knew the type.

She knew she was beautiful and could get anything — anyone — she wanted, and she acted like it. She sat in a way to be purposefully alluring, but her eyes swept across the bar with a sense of superiority that kept most people away. Too afraid to be turned down by someone like her. Zane, however, felt no shame in shooting his shots and embraced a challenge like this with open arms. He loved the thrill of it and success typically meant a night to never forget.

Depending on how drunk he'd get.

"See something you like?" he asked boldly, having caught her eyes scanning the room. He either expected a harsh no or perhaps a more playful response that hinted at her reason for visiting.

He wanted to know what she was after. It could be as simple as enjoying the attention with a drink in her hand, but most outsiders visit for another reason. A bar for pilots brought together some of the most attractive people in the Alliance.

The ideal bar for a little hunt.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

She glanced at him, her piercing blue eyes assessing before a faint smirk danced on her lips.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘like,’” she replied coolly, taking a sip of her drink. She let her gaze wander around the room, as if searching for someone more intriguing.

“Though I suppose it’s nice to know some pilots have confidence,” she added, her tone dismissive as she subtly shifted her focus, giving him the impression that he might need to impress her.

"Maybe we aren't as doomed as the naysayers make out," she said sipping her drink through pinched lips, "gutless...cowards...is what I heard one senator say."

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Zane's smirk widened at her response, clearly unfazed by her dismissive tone. She was testing him, and he was more than willing to play along, whether it'd work out or not, "You'll find confidence in abundance here, but you have to be able to back it up," he quipped back, raising his glass slightly to take a sip from his drink.

He wasn't the only one with an abundance of confidence in this conversation.

He leaned back casually, eyes locked onto hers. "Gutless cowards, hm? Ironic, coming from the senators who left Coruscant behind to hide on Fondor." A feeling many other soldiers and pilots shared with him, "So, what do you think of us, then? Of all bars or clubs you could have gone to and gained the same attention, you chose this one."

He flashed her a grin.

"And you haven't walked out on me yet."

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

Her drink washed over her lips. Even after the glass was pulled from her lips, they still glistened invitingly. They curled up into an insincere smile. Her eyes only briefly looking his way.

”But you don’t run away…do you fly boy?”

An errant drip of booze threatened to run from the corner of her mouth. As if not rushed, her hand slowly rose, finger caught it and she wiped it off in her mouth.

”Why would I leave without an invitation?”

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Zane's grin widened, his eyes locked on hers with a hint of intrigue. He leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the bar as if to close the distance between them.

"Fly away?" he repeated, chuckling softly. "Not a chance."

His gaze lingered on the corner of her lips where the errant drop had been, a smirk playing at his own as she caught it so casually. "But an invitation?" he mused, his voice low and smooth. With a slow, deliberate movement, he extended his hand, palm up, like he was presenting something valuable—perhaps the very attention she seemed to command with such ease.

"That I can do, unless you'd rather stick around here?" He glanced around, taking note of other pilots, but he didn't feel threatened by them in the slightest.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

She did not turn her head nor even glance at his hand. Instead, she seemed to roll her eyes as she turned he back on him. Her legs uncrossed, and she glided from her perch on the barstool. Hips swaying, and hemline waving back and forth, she marched towards the door.

As she reached the door, she turned and looked back at the pilot at the bar. Her hair covering most of her face. Eyes heavy lidded.

”Invitation accepted,” she said, loud enough for all the patrons to hear.

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Zane didn't mind the looks or the murmurs that spread through the bar as Ariadne made her exit in such a bold fashion. In fact, it only fueled his grin. Standing up from his seat, he casually straightened his jacket and watched her. His eyes followed the hypnotic sway of her hips, the hem of her dress shifting back and forth like a teasing pendulum.

He took his time trailing behind her, savoring every step she took toward the exit. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light and dancing with each stride she made. He let his gaze drift down her back, appreciating the way she moved—confident and utterly in control.

He had to be dreaming, right?

As he reached her at the door, he leaned in just enough to catch her scent — something subtle and intoxicating. "I've got a place not far from here," he murmured, the words carrying a blend of suggestion and intent. "Why don't we leave these gawkers behind and make it a night worth remembering?" His eyes gleamed with a daring glint, already imagining what lay ahead.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

With a coyness that was not fitting her persona, her fingers curled around the edge of his open jacket. She held him for a moment, her eyes looking up at his, searching. Was it a moment of vulnerability that he saw in her? It was gone as quickly as it arrived.

She bit her lower lip, eyes glancing down at his chest. Her fingers uncurled and pressed against his shirt.

”Do not make promises you intend to break. I have had enough of those men.”

It seemed instinctive, but she rubbed the depression on her finger where a ring may have once lived.

“Why are we still here?” She purred.

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Zane's lips curled into a devilish grin, and he leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her breath on his skin. His hand slowly lifted to cover hers, resting against his chest. "I'm not like them at all," he murmured, his tone low and smooth as he remained close to her, "You're never going to forget tonight."

He inched even closer, his gaze dropping to her lips as if he were about to bridge that final, electric gap between them. But just as the tension peaked, he smirked and pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. A hand at her waist nudged her forward, and without another word, he guided her out of the bar and into the night.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice soft but firm, a promise of something more as he led her down the street. The pace was quick but unhurried, a silent urgency in the way he held her close to him. As they approached the front door of his home and unlocked it, he turned his gaze back to her, that same playful spark in his eyes.

His heart hadn't been racing like this in a while.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

She stood at his door like she stood anywhere, assured. Though she added unimpressed to her expressions. Though, what was she to expect on a pilot’s salary. When he looked back her, she smiled assuringly. He was doing it right. This is what she wanted.

”Quaint locale,” she said, a little tease in her tone.

She slide up beside him, looping her arm around his. “What’s your name again, flyboy? I want to make sure I get it right later on.”

Zane Cameron

 

[Zane Cameron]

Zane's smirk deepened as she looped her arm through his, and he glanced around the small but well-kept entrance of his home. He was used to his place being called many things, but it never really mattered. What mattered now was the fact that she was here.

"Quaint?" he echoed playfully, turning his head slightly so their faces were inches apart. "I suppose I could call your attention to detail impressive." He leaned in just enough for their noses to brush, his breath teasingly close to her lips. "But you can call me Zane."

He let the moment linger, tension thick between them, and then pulled back, guiding her gently inside. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you remember it." He paused, letting his gaze drift over her one more time, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Over and over again." his body shifted, pushing her against the wall of his hallway.

His lips crashing into hers to claim his first kiss of the night.

"What's yours?" He finally whispered against her lips.

Ariadne ​

 

[Ariadne]

Her hands craved the touch of his skin, sliding up under his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders in a hurry. She met his kisses with her own passion. Her body pushed into his, conforming to his posture.

”Who cares…”

The only answer she gave him was to pull his head into a deeper kiss.

---

Zane Cameron