Private Some Nights

[Drifter]

What momentary victory he felt was suddenly overwhelmed by the sharp smack of Rhea's head right onto his visor. It sent his head knocking back onto the ground, not only making him grimace in pain due to the initial smack but by the resonating rebound from the floor.

Not that Rhea would go unscathed, because that rebound meant that Rhea would end up with a subsequent smack from his visor. The chaos effect in action.

[ Yeow! Woman! ] Drifter called out, giving a shake of his head. The helm was there to protect him, but even this one wouldn't prevent him from feeling the lingering sharp rush of pain along the bridge of his nose and over his sinuses.

[ Why are you so violent!!?] he asked incredulously, this time taking no risks to jerk her tighter against his chest with a tug from her wrist to pin her against him. Not that he minded. Again, made for an excellent crushing of all her soft bits. What red-blooded man would object?

 

[Rhea]

Her rash bit to disorient him and gain back control of her wrist back fired into a double smack of his visor and the sudden disablement of her wrist. "Youch," she breathed, feeling her wrist tweaked tight into the pin.

Mistakes. Mistakes were made.

They entered a stalemate, her body wiggling in small tempering tests to feel for a way out-- a dropped guard, a shift in balance. Mr.Body Language would be able to feel the resistance that searched and scavenged. But it did not come, no loop found as the situration froze where it stood.

"Why are you so-" you? She grumbled back. She couldn't pull back and call it off she wanted, his grip on her wrist served as the key to unlocking the human jigsaw puzzle they had made.

She gave a heavy sigh, relenting and going slack. "If you take it off I'll answer anything. For ten minutes," she leveled, her face stucked pressed into his neck.

 

[Drifter]

Oh now this was an interesting turn of events. To say that Drifter missed just exactly what this potential offer could get him would be a lie. The corner of his mouth would quirk ever so slightly, the devil rising in his citrine eyes.

Oh, sweet summer child — what did you do?

Cameron didn’t have to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. The man was well aware of the leverage of power he now had in the proverbial and literal palm of his hand.

It was a good thing he was not able to feel the fanning of her warm breath against his throat. He could feel the press of her body, and if she wiggled even more perhaps he could be swayed to give in...

Ah, but his competitive side knew no bounds. So instead of acquiescing, he merely shot back, canting his head to the right and left in that damnable laissez faire, mechanized timbre, [ Mmm... no. I’m far too pretty. I know my worth. You can do better. I want a day. One day of unfiltered, answer me anything. ]

 

[Rhea]

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, his counter so ludicrous she didn't even bother rebuffing. What could he possibly think she possessed that was worth a day of talking? What made him even think she had a day to spare? A part of her snubbed the request, finding it as ridiculous as all the other things he had done. The rest of her gave an exasperated sigh, unwittingly worn out and run down by his antics.

"Fine," she agreed, discounting his counter as harmless. “Just let got of my damn-" She struggled against his grip, her knee fussing up for a good place to jam into.

"But it doesn't go back on--" she countered almost belatedly, her body freezing as she attempted to careen upwards and level him a telling glare. She was learning. She found nothing but the side of his helmet, frustration bubbling up at the fact a one armed child had her in a hold.

"If I'm talking, you're bare. Copy?"

 

[Drifter]

It was a good thing that Drifter had his helm. Otherwise it would have been obvious to see the highly amused arch of his brow and the devilish glimmer within the depths of his citrine eyes.
[oh bare is it?]

He gave a roll of his shoulders, muscles shifting under his desert garb, flexing as he gave a cant of his head to the right.

[ moving a bit too fast there. Not even a first date. I don’t bare it all just for a day. ] he chuckled, amused - only to wince as the minx decided to ride a knee too close to his jewels for comfort.

[ Whoa! Careful there!] he warned, inching his hips away. [ you always so violent? First you tackle me then you try to geld me?]

 

[Rhea]

Rhea made a noise of exasperation, the hold they had each other in growing darn right uncomfortable. "Fine!" She spazzed randomly, the sharp motion breaking his grip as he bucked his hips away. She unfurled from their jigsaw of limbs, leaving him uncontested on the ground. "Have it your way," she grumped, yanking her clothing back on straight.

She blew a dark strand from her face, looking down at him with nothing short of defeated contempt. "Keep the damn thing on. I'll eat your burger for you." Damn him.

With a huff belaying her soreness from their trip, she lifted herself off the ground, righting the stool as she went.

 

[Drifter]

His laughter would linger at her ears, amusement raking Drifter's body as all sorts of righteous indignation seemed to reverberate from Rhea's body. He laughed - winced at the slight lingering ache on his arm - and remained on the ground.

[ Feth, you are as prickly as a Mon Cal Puffer fish! ] he told her, the mechanized drone of his laughter unable to dampen the level of mirth her reaction gave him.

[ I wasn't hungry, ] he admitted, managing to calm himself with a lingering chuckle [ I was making one for you. ] he told her, honest this time.

 

[Rhea]

"Hmph." She fixed the other chair and sat her ass right back down on it, legs crossing as she swayed the stool back and forth in a careless gesture. "Whatever." She plucked up her fizzy drink and swigged it back, leaving him to heft himself off the ground on his own. She turned her back to him, paying him no heed as she fussed with straightening the remaining mess that had formed from his 'gifted dinner making'.

Her shoulders remained tense, the only part of her to belay the internal frustration with the man splayed out before her. ... As if she wasn't bothered by him in the slightest!

 

[Drifter]

The entire scene including @Rhea’s reaction was just too much to hold back- he knew better considering Rhea’s earlier reaction to his chortle. However, even Drifter had his limits. It started with the shaking of his shoulders, followed by the stifled snorts he tired to hold back.

It failed. He began to laugh again.

Curling to his side, his entire body shook, doing his best to attempt some sort of placating gesture with his free hand.

Reading her reaction was a breathe of fresh air. It reminded him of his sisters, of when he’d do his best to get a reaction out of them. Of course, the end result more often than not resulted in him getting more than a few bruises.

[ alright alright.... did you want that burger or not? ] he gasped out, trying to control his laughter.

 

[Rhea]

Every laugh grated against her, and honestly she couldn't answer why. Her chest heaved with a wash of irritation, the woman more on her back foot with him than she cared to admit.

Force, he brought our her competitive side.

She grumbled at his burger offer, not inclined to respond much while he was knee deep in laughter. It half riled her into turning on him and shoving the fizzy drink into the hole straw of his visor, but she wasn't up for being mitigated again by a one-armed wanna be solider.

"Fine."

Like it or not, she was starving. He could watch her linger on every bite and suffer for it.

 

[Drifter]

Drifter's laughter would wane, although a few chortles would escape here and there. As it was, the man gave a hearty, heavily amused sigh, letting his body relax on the floor for a few moments, watching the brunette ruffle her feathers with as much ire as a ticked off Dantooine hen.

[ Alright, ] he began, rolling up to a sitting position with a flex of his abs, every bit of his body dripping with perpetual amusement at Rhea's expense. It was just too easy, the man told himself. Plain as day with the way her body language screamed out her irritation and frustration.

Another snort then a well-pleased sigh flew from his lips, standing to his feet with that self-confidant, want to punch him in the mouth swagger and roll of his shoulders. [ Take it you have nothing against Bantha blue cheese? ] if she did well, there was little else he could top the burger. She'll be stuck with just the buns and condiments. He didn't have much fresh produce as it was; too expensive. It was credit well saved for important things. Like fuel.

 

[Rhea]

"It's fine," she snipped, precise movements splitting open the bun to prepare it for the burger. She rolled out her shoulder shaking off the pain of his pin as she continued to meticulously arrange the condiments. Anything to keep herself busy. She seemed braced to leave him with the silent treatment.

But she was just as unable to hold back as he was.

"Do you shower with that thing?"

 

[Drifter]

Without even an ounce of hesitation or shame, the man shot back, [ Already stripping me down, eh Pittin? ]

One could practically feel just the smug, cocksure grin he had underneath that polarized visor. No need to see it; it was there just in the tone of his words.

[ Well, after feeling me all up while we were rollin' on the ground, guess I can't blame you. ] he quipped, grabbing a frozen patty of bantha meat to slap it down on the plate. Wouldn't taste as good as freshly grilled, but the food processor would do what it did best. Mimic what it could and add smoke flavoring.

 

[Rhea]

"You're impossible," she dismissed, rolling her eyes. She focused on the ketchup cap, heat filling her cheeks as she picked the gunk off the rims. He had the luxury of occupying himself with the cooking. She had already cleaned, set up, and cleaned again. The easy nature of their interactions decreased a degree, the flush of embarrassment giving light to a wave of awkwardness as she thought back to the impropriety of her sudden scrap.

Not for the first time, she reminded herself that she had only known him for a day.

He was practically a stranger. Even if he didn't feel like it. She cleared her throat and let the awkward silence descend from her, moving to clean the rest of the bottles of their gunk build up as well.

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

[ Impossible is just another word for incredible!] Dare one say that the man's cocksure assurance seemed to permeate the room. Nevermind that the amused inflation of his tone relayed that he was purposely doing so to continue to feed fuel to the fire. There was just something about stirring Rhea's ire that entertained him so.

[ As it is, pittin, seems to me the more you can't have what you have the more you want it?] oh another interesting observation. That helm turned towards the young woman and one could sense more than see the subtle up and down shudder of his shoulders. Amused again.

As she had practically cleaned up after the mess, there was little for Drifter to do, save wrap up any remaining food back in storage. [ Feeling better? ] he inquired, giving a nod towards her stomach. This time, it was a genuine question.

 

[Rhea]

"Hmph," was her grumpy answer, the woman making quick work of cleaning the plate as effectively as the condiment bottles. She had held back on him before, only accepting his charity as far as he pushed and nothing more. This time she had no issue reaching for seconds, the concept of self-reliance moot after a night crawling through the gutters saving each other's asses.

He was a better cook than her. Even if it was just frozen patties reheated on buns. Better than the desert lizards she had been hunting.

A tired drag hit her eyes, the days without sleep finding their way past teh adrenaline fueled haze of the day.

"I'm fine," she murmured. She looked him over once, then resigned herself not to care if he starved. "How long till we get there?" Bug eyes had told them not ten minutes ago, but the detail, had already slipped. Six hours? Two?

The back of her neck prickled, a bad feeling stirring as she thought about the hand off.

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

Well, well, well, so she can hold on to her tongue? Will wonders ever cease? Drifter mused, allowing himself a small chuckle while he turned to get himself something to drink. He wasn't hungry. Not yet. Then again, his appetite hadn't been the best recently. He had also had plenty of food earlier at the bazaar. It had been Rhea who had been too stubborn to eat then.

[Enough time for you to get some much-needed rest. ] he replied, the metallic tinge of his voice modulator resonating within the small galley. [Alex will be sure to wake you right before we get there. ] he unlocked and swung open a cabinet and pulled out a small can of namana nectar. Such a curious thing for someone to drink.

[ As long as there isn't anything unexpected, we could probably land a few klicks from your drop point. Escort you there, and you can make your way. ]

 

[Rhea]

Rhea nodded, letting out a heavy breath. A completed job, shower, food, a set path... security felt good.

She was a day from her ship, a day away from having control back in her hands. She gave him a tight smile, sliding off the stool. 'Order received,' she gestured, dipping back into the old GA hand symbols they had relied on in the compound.

He never owned up to how he knew them. She didn't ask, signing off with a click of her boot's heel on the gallery's floor.

"Don't forget me, Bug Eyes," she told Alex, rubbing at a bruise from something or other as she left back for the room.

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

[ Oh doubtful, of that Pittin,] the man announced, slinking down onto a chair with all the swagger of a laid-back scoundrel. A semi veneer gloss of what Drifter intended to portray.

[ What are the odds I'll find some other woman willing to tackle me in my own galley, eh?] he joked, giving a small tilt of his namana nectar can as if in a slight toast at her.

[ Get your rest. We'll wake you soon. ]

~~~

Rhea would not be surprised to learn that Alex was not the nicest of wake up calls. Her seductive, modulated voice would briskly call out over the overcome in Rhea's room, signaling their approach.

[ Rise and shine. It is time for you to get up and get your belongings. ] Alex would sing overhead. Was she perhaps pleased at the prospect of Rhea's departure? LIkely.

Should Rhea not take Alex's heed, odds were that the next step up would be to blast one of Drifter's rather loud, novu rock melodies he'd been listening to lately.

At maximum volume.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea never hated a droid more than Alex in that moment.

Still, the sleep had done her wonders, even if it wasn't near enough. She pulled out of the room, her bag of makeshift belongings clinking as she slung it across her back.

The crystal remained tucked firmly in a pouch at her waste, her hand constantly fluttering to be sure it was still there. It was worth more than her ship, but at the cost of life she had seen it draw-- no. Hell no. She didn't need the world, she just wanted her shit. She had enough baggage without its blood curse hanging over her head.

A new sense of anxiety crept through her chest, that unsteady feeling growing.

She bit it back and shuffled her way to the gallery, her heart already set on some of that coffee she knew he had....

"You ever play kick ball?" She asked the floating head, a brow raised as she passed.