Private Some Nights

[Drifter]

“Pity… guess that means you are no closer to seeing my face then.” the way he said it made it hard to know if he was joking or really meant it. Either way, he was having a bout of entertainment at her expense.

“Might be shit to you, but they are my reasons,” Drifter chuckled, watching her peer outside the window at the speeder.

“Oh it ain’t going anywhere, trust me.” he’d murmur, the vibrato from the breathing mask drawling out to her.

And since she was trying to keep him honest on making sure he asked her questions...

“Why bother trying to fix it? You’d get a better deal trading that for a speeder bike.”

“Do you have anywhere pressing to go that you need it fixed?”

 

[Rhea]

“Yes,” she answered softly, her stress lines slowly reappearing over her forehead . And because she sensed the incoming questions and had no interest in giving him space to crack his dreadful jokes, she offered up the info on her own.

“A job. ...one I need to do without setbacks. Seems I’ve got plenty of those regardless.” She frowned, picking at her thumb. She have a softly blink, then slowly looked at him. Her gaze was searching, full of intention.

“What are you doing on this planet? What brings you here?”

 

[Drifter]

Curious. The more Drifter watched her the more he was able to pick up on more bits and pieces of emotion and intent. Must be something pretty special to her for her to work herself up to such a state to fix that sorry excuse of a rust bucket.

Now, as for her two questions…

“Ah, what am I doing on this planet?” he gave a tap of his forefinger on the table. Rap, rap, rap. Staring out through the window, he went quiet, internally musing. For once, no joke or quip to break any semblance of serious conversation.

“No clue.” It was an honest answer. A shrug of his right shoulder followed suit, “Just felt like it.” In fact, he plotted a course and it just so happened that it brought him here.

“I’d been here before. A while ago. A few times.” his voice became introspective, the hunter mulling. Remembering. Reliving.

“It makes no difference why I am here. I just am. The Gods willed it, maybe.” a slight tell. No mention of the Force being the cause of it.

A snort, “Or maybe this just so happened to be the most recent place to hide from my rather overprotective and over-anxious family so I don’t feel smothered half to death.”

That polarized visor swung right back to ‘Sia’. “Any reason is as good as any. “ another quick tap of his fingers on the counter, “So, you want a lift? I think my ride is far more likely to get you where you need to get to than your bucket of rusted bolts.” a total one-eighty in conversation direction. Without pause, Drifter took his chocolate shake and had one deliciously, loud, obnoxious slurp.

 

[Rhea]

He wasn’t being level with her. Not really. She was beginning to get use to his flourish of excess words and distracting side mentions, getting to the quick of what he meant each time he spoke a little faster.

She didn’t like meaningless squabble. It frustrated her, especially when it was meant to put her on her back foot.

It was so much easier to shoot things.

Lucky for him, he had proven rather hard to shoot. And he had shown her a small kindness of chiccy nuggies. Whether or not she’d muster the energy to call him out, it didn’t matter. His next words cut her short, her wary gaze intensifying.

Her mind went reeling, trying to spot any way this could be a trap. Easiest answer was that it wasn’t, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t without a motive. Everyone had something they wanted. It really couldn’t be as simple as she entertained him.

Right?

She grumbled, the notion of being a play toy equally as unappealing as being trapped. But when push came to shove and she considered all her options, she was quick to realize she lacked very little choice.

At least, not if she wanted to do this properly. And she did. Badly.

She shifted in her seat, sighing heavily as she came to terms with this all. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin at him.

“It’s dangerous,” she warned.

The whys, the whats, the doubts and suspicions were all withheld, going right to the meat of things. He’d just sass her about them anyway. The seasoned soldier watched for his reaction.

 

[Drifter]

“More dangerous than wrestling a sun worm?” if Drifter seemed deterred by Sia’s warning, it didn’t show. Instead, he was far more focused on trying to collect the extra fudge that clung to the edge of the inside of his cup, the faint slurping sounds punctuating his unperturbed demeanor. It was as if he were merely discussing traveling to go see the local holoflick.

“Since you were trying to fix up a speeder, it is likely you are staying local. Which means could be anywhere beyond the city limits or within a day or so travel.” he gestured over to the huge pack she had, “Most of that is parts, not travel gear. So you are likely not intending to spend some time practicing your tent building skills.”

The hunter drew his body forward, swirling the straw tube and watching her through that polarized visor that would reflect the subtle nuances of Sia’s expression while hiding his own.

“You don’t have money to spare on supplies --and with the way you were eyeballing those nuggets, you haven’t had a solid meal in a while too. So that means you also do not have any provisions for an extended stay.” amidst this discussion, he added a third observation, “While you have a lightsaber, you clearly haven’t been trained in it and the blaster you have has been kindly appropriated by yours truly,”

“So-o--” he drawled, setting down his cup, “Does it matter if it is dangerous or not? You need to get where you need to get going, anyways. The real question is do you rather spend your afternoon attempting to scrape the rust off that fuel pump or do you rather just get going with a rather charming, skilled, witty man such as myself?”

A pause. “Oh and that free ride is a package deal.”

 

[Rhea]

Rhea’s brows tightened, the man knowing far too much about her without her ever have saying anything.

How.

It was a touch infuriating to be laid out like a book. Especially when you made it a habit of holding your words to your chest.

She took a heavy breath in and out, reconciling herself to the concept of his games for the span of a whole job. Her fingers picked up the nugget crumbs, mindlessly leveling them into her mouth as she eyed him in turn. Would he stay in the transport while she did her job?

Unlikely.

Would he get in her way?

Probably.

She leveled him a flat look, giving into his logic. “I don’t want to hear it if someone shoots at you too.”

She stood up, shoving her trash back from her as she did so.

 

[Drifter]

“Does trying to shot me count? Cause if so, let’s tick that off.” He even made a small air mark as if keeping score, his voice notably coated in amusement. Decision made, the hunter took his cup, reaching to detach the drinking tube. Glancing up, he waved over one of the serving droids, “Hey can I have some water?”

Order made, that helm swung back to Sia, “You want anything else?” had to double-check. Had to do things on a full stomach.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea’s gaze flickered up to the menu, a flash of hunger entering her eyes. A box of nuggets had hardly touched the pit in her stomach the last week had left behind, nor the juice the thirst she had been harboring.

For a moment these primal needs overwhelmed her, protesting the deficit and smothering her ability for clear thought.

Just say yes, they urged-- no demanded, causing cracks her stony exterior.

Her lips parted, her tongue licking desperately at her lips.

And then she remembered who was asking her. She forced her eyes off the menu, unwilling to enter anymore debt to this stranger she had nearly shot. Recognizing her break in composure, she turned away from him altogether, croaking out a stronger, “No.”

She shook her head, breathing through the hunger pains. Mind over matter, eyes on the prize. The old chant returned to her. She held it close, turning to walk out and leave him to the restaurant altogether. It’s not like he wouldn’t know where to find her.

She could eat once paid.

 

[Drifter]

Well that was rude. The internal muse went drifting through Drifter’s mind, far more amused and intrigued than insulted by the quick getaway.

Turning towards the serving droid, his voice sang as he rattled off a to-go order, “Can I get two servings of the cheesy bantha strips flat wraps? Oh, and can you also add some of those cinnamon crispy bread swirls? Ooo,” and excited finger jabbed into the air, “and an extra-large fizzy namame nectar!”

It wasn’t like Sia was going to be running off any time soon, she had very limited options and he was the one choice she had to go wherever she needed to go.

It took an additional six minutes, but he came out of the restaurant with a bag full of quesadillas, cinnamon twists, and an extremely large cup of sugary, fizzy nectar.

All in all, he was set.

Now, where she go?

 

[Rhea]

Rhea was by her broken down speeder, sorting through her sparse trunk trunk to take all valuables into the bag she’d be carrying onto his ship. Which wasn’t much. But it was something worth carrying. She closed the rickety thing up, pulling her last few credits out of her pocket and giving them a large frown down.

He’d come over to find her in conversation with a squib, their stall right next to the speeder that wasn’t going to be going anywhere in the days coming.

“No. You don’t seem to get it. There is no haggling. You make sure no one tows this off, you keep the coins. Easy money.”

“Aw, but--”

“Okay, no money.” She yanked the credits back, sending the squib into a flustered huff.

“Alright, alright!” It felt good having the upper hand for once. “But I make no promises about night.”

“Deal.” She grumbled, unwillingly dropping them into his greedily little palm. “But if you try anything don’t think I won’t pay them to sell you out,” she threatened, pointing to the nearby squib eyes.

The smell of food greeted her before he did, the woman’s nose flaring. “Get enough?” What that him or the subtle presence of sass?

 

[Drifter]

The man wearing the full helm gave an amused tip back of his head, that polarized visor reflecting back the rather aggravated expression Sia wore. It was the annoying side effect that anyone finding themselves staring up at the hunter would have to endure.

Meanwhile, Drifter’s response? A pleased shake of his goody bag.

“Maybe.” that mechanized voice sang, the tone as sugary as the cinnamon twists he bought. “Gonna have to dig into it to be sure.” he added, daring to amble in a saunter around Sia, with a cant of his head and a nod of his helm, “You get your rustbucket a boot?”

Looking back as he continued to walk as if fully expecting her to follow him, he called out, “Because not so sure how well it will stay in place around these parts. Might be best to try and haggle to get something out of it than come back and find it gone.” it was solid advice. The sort that, you know, made sense. However, coming from him with that annoyingly assured tone would likely grate on nerves. Didn’t matter that it was meant to provide solid advice, but most folks didn’t like being told what to do.

Much the less rather ornery women who were clearly on the hangry scale of things.

Drifter expected the worst, seeing as she almost shot him earlier. Finding the pressure points on a woman was an innate skill. Should she not rise up to the bait, well… now that was going to be interesting.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea grunted, ignoring his words as she picked up her back and slung it over her shoulder. “But I need it,” she grumbled, following after him.

She knew less about the squib than him, finding them to be nothing more than annoying bargainers. She saw no reason her deal wouldn’t be upheld. It was a deal after all. And she had paid.

Not for the first time she wondered just what she was getting herself into. Her pile of possession grew smaller with every day. She glanced behind her, a nervous tick entering her cheeks as she watched the crowd engulf around the dull red hull of her speeder.

Life be kind, she needed that back.


Gods, she needed that back.



She looked forward to the man she followed, picking up her pace until she hit his stride.

“Where is this ship of yours, anyway?” She asked, turning her thoughts forward.

 

[Drifter]

“I can tell that you need it,” He added, pausing, this time genuinely turning to study her. With a glance, he picked up on the twitch along her jaw, the uneasiness in her gaze, and the way she shuffled her weight in indecision. All of which didn’t wash away the indicative sense of possessiveness that saturated her expression.

Well, her choice.

“Just giving my advice. What you do with it is up to you.” He certainly couldn’t force her to consider trading what she obviously held dear to. People were sentimental like that. His mother for some reason thought it was necessary to save swatches of his baby hair between sheets of filmsi. Actually, she did that for all three kids. Something about recording every single moment she possibly could.

Now as to her question -- or more aptly named, redirect - Drifter gave a swivel of his torso and gestured with his obnoxiously large container of sugary orange beverage.

“Eh… “ a half-shrug from his right shoulder, “About fifteen minutes away?” he brought his feet together, posture indicative of the man internally musing the age-old question of ‘Where the hell did I park?’

Three seconds later, that polarized helm swung back towards Sia, and one did not have to see the blinding grin to determine from his jovial body language that he was just going to run with it.

“So is your name really Sia?”

Oh yeah, asking the hard questions. A perfect redirect to counter her redirect.

 

[Rhea]

She snorted, glancing back up at him. “...No,” she admitted. She saw no reason to deny it now. She wasn’t on some wanted list and frankly she WANTED him to be able to find her in a mix up. For now.

“It’s Rhea,” she told him, practically gritting the name through her teeth. She walked for several uninterrupted steps, clearly brewing over her next words.

“...Could be though. I mean, what is a name anyway but something someone says to you?” The chicken nuggets and juice had hit her blood stream, the woman walking and talking with a slight more wind in her sails.

So to speak.

His previous advice had been utterly discarded, both not taken seriously and stubbornly resisted because the nature of his tone behind it. She saw no merit but false anxieties, and she wasn’t about to give those a place in her thoughts.

“Is yours really Drifter?” She asked back, her arm swinging at her side.

 

[Drifter]

“ Rhea,” Drifter let the name roll off his tongue; although it didn’t sound any different besides the musing tone to that mechanized drone through his helm.

“Interesting.” Whatever that meant would be elusive to anyone other than Drifter. A tip of his hand as if to thank her for being honest and he began walking again. Although it was mid-day with the blazing sun overhead, there was still a notable crowd. He kept at a steady pace, pausing for effect and to ensure he didn’t lose his would-be passenger.

“Mmm... I don’t know. Names are pretty important. Carry weight.” His mulling tone would give some indication of genuineness to that statement. What Rhea wouldn’t know is that names were pretty important in Drifter’s family. So much so that their real name was not disclosed to those outside their family. They had a name they used in public, but also a true name was given to him by the matriarch of the Shamalain family.

His is Draith.

“Yup. Mom and dad approved. My name that is.” It wasn’t a lie. The next second he suddenly shoved the bag of quesadillas onto Rhea’s chest, fully expecting her to grab it. After all, the smell alone as well as that rumbling he’d heard earlier would indicate she wouldn’t just drop food.

Or maybe she would.

 

[Rhea]

She huffed in shock, a slight but promising sign of her previous guard being let down. This seemed to reverse in a second though, the woman’s shoulders tensing on instinct as she grabbed at the object to… “What the hell?”

She snapped.

Not exactly on touching bases. Unless you counted fighting. She held the bag back out, nothing if not flustered, disgruntled, and at a loss with him.

“I’m not carrying your food for you.” It was pinched between two fingers, her nose crinkled and strained at the smell.

Truth was she would totally carry his food for him. And his bag. And his parts, if he had them. She would do all that and more. Because it was better than owing a debt to him. But his current method of delivery made her old ego slip out.

“Nice try.” She shook it over his own chest, notably not touching him in return. Because she respected boundaries. Mostly.

The gun thing was a fluke.

 

[Drifter]

“What you got against cheesy Nuna wraps of melty goodness?!” He exclaimed with mock affront, “I ordered too much anyways.” Another shrug, and he swung it right back over to her - minus chest touching.

“You can’t say you are not hungry.” he was calling her out on it, reading her like one of Esme’s trashy romance holo novels.

He gave the bag a little shake. “Cheesy… Nuna… wraps… think of it. How it will melt in your mouth, that slight greasy goodness. Taste the grill marks… imagine it rolling in your mouth as you chew.”

Drifter was really piling up the dramatics with it.

“Or I can give it to someone else.” he had food back on the ship.

 

[Rhea]

Her mouth watered as the scenario was painted out… the cheese… the bread, still warm… the- she blinked hard, giving him an annoyed look.

“Now you’re just playing with me,” she accused, her stomach snarling in the hunger she hadn’t probably quenched. It had been days. Days. And this deep into the moment with him, with the bag already in her hands…

What harm could a little more obligation do?

For a moment her tear ducts pinched in pure frustration with herself. But that was all washed away when the first wrap was ripped open and shoved in her mouth. Eating the chicken nuggets had been slow and intentional.

Eating this wrap was primal.

And the next one. She certainly didn’t need the third one but she had been worn down to a state of numbness. She would take the food placed before her and she would eat it without resistance . Because that’s what desperate people did.

Alright fine. She was desperate.

A sense of shame flooded her as she crunched the empty bag. Her throat clenched tight, this moment resonating deeper within her more than she thought he could understand.

Did he know she was at rock bottom?

Did he mean to show her this much kindness?

She cleared her throat, stewing, her stomach bludging the point of discomfort. And then she said the only two words that could be out towards this debt. “... thank you.”

Guess she could start from there.

 

[Drifter]

No, I am just trying to feed you, Drifter thought to himself, watching in silence as Rhea managed to finally give in and eat. He quietly passed along the large drink over to her, watching her vacillate through that rollercoaster of emotional turmoil battle her hunger. He was glad hunger won out. The last thing either of them needed was for her to faint due to starvation, especially in this heat.

“No problem.” the mechanized reply came, handing her the other bag. The cinnamon twist bag.

“There’s dessert,” he said simply, rolling his shoulders as if to say that’s that, and he began walking again.

“So how far out are we looking to go?” it was equal parts gathering information as it was done to redirect her attention and cacophony of conflicting emotions. Weaving through the crowd, he regularly would scan the area, casually keeping vigilance as much as trying to remember which turn to take to go to the specific docking port he left his ship in.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea took the redirection and ran with it, shoving the empty bag into his chest and leaving it for him to catch. She sucked on the drink and paused for a moment, regaining her bearings as he lead them further.

“Depends.” Rhea looked up to the sky, squinting as she followed the path of the sun. “Assuming you’ve got more than a simple speeder like me? Half a day. Arrive at nightfall. It’s past city bounds,” she gestured towards the west. “Deep desert.”

“I’ve got coordinates you can drop me off at. No need getting your nose too deep into it,” she reassured. “Could be back by morning if you drive straight.”