Private The Parent's Trap

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

The amber rays of the distant setting sun fell on the pair through the arched solarium glasssteel windows. They stood side by side with a gap of less than two steps, Makai holding out the tumbler to her as he gestured for her to sit.

At this distance, the wave of his arm brought the scent of Bergamot, Clary Sage, and salt. Then came the energetic with notes from Water Lily, Ambergris, Sandalwood, Musk, Sea Moss, and Cedar.

If L3 had lingered, Myra would have glared at the droid's direction. It was the scent of a cologne Myra had discovered during an excursion with the apothecary on Empress Teta. She'd been immediately drawn to it because it reminded her of the beach by Makai's home, swinging on the porch, tropical air, and the sea barley in bloom. A thought of leaning in close to breathe deeply teased Myra in the back of her mind, only to quell it by taking a long gulp of her drink. It was to her advantage that this was the good stuff, as it didn't burn on the way down for her overzealous consumption.

Maybe the liquid courage allowed her not to correct Makai for the childhood name. Instead, she replied with as calm of a voice as she could muster, "That is not the Arceneau way."

Her mama would have a conniption fit if Myra had done that.

A pause. Right. Small talk.

"I guess this is new." She indicated that the whiskey was his new go-to. He had asked for it, so she accommodated. He'd never been much of a drinker before, as Judah kept away from the vise.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Unbuttoning his jacket, Makai took a seat on the leather chair opposite from Ellie. Even as she stated that 'this was new' she had knocked back a large gulp of the whisky, indicating it wasn't new for either one of them. An attempt to make some small talk he was sure. He sunk back into the plush backing of the chair and took a much more reserved sip of his drink before speaking.

"I don't think we were old enough on most cultured planets to have alcohol at the time. I've found you have to pick up something in these negotiations, smoking, drinking, worse. Dad has his cigars, I went in the other direction."

Makai knew full well his father didn't drink because of some moral upholding. There had been a weaving story of him getting drunk in the military and having an incredibly rough experience. Supposedly put him off on the stuff for a long while, although there were brief memories as a kid of seeing his father with a lager from time to time. That seemed to end once his mother left the second time.

"So, Dad tells me you live on Coruscant? Or did?"

In actuality, his father had told him nothing of Ellie, stating in no uncertain terms he was no go-between for the pair. Makai had found this information out third hand, either subtly eavesdropping while Judah was taking to Danger in some form or fashion. However, he coudn't lead a conversation with the fact he had been hunting for hints about her ; might come off as a bit creepy.

With the sunset streaming through the windows it bathed Ellie in an amber light, highlighting the faint hints of auburn in her brown hair. Makai found himself both admiring her and studying Ellie all at once. An urge to lean across and kiss coral-stained lips bubbled up, to tell her how beautiful she was. Pushing the feelings down, Makai had to remind himself he wasn't there yet. He might never make it there.

Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

There was truth to Makai's words. There was a reason why Danger took to vices such as drink and her cigarillos. It was a way to find common ground in vices and decadence. Danger took it as a point of pride that she could drink a full-blooded Zeltron under the table, using the advantages that her good looks, honeyed voice, and charm gave her.

Myra, on the other hand, well, she wasn't quite as wonderfully endowed, so she had to make up for it in conversation and ability at least to know the difference between a scotch and a bourbon. The only issue was that as she hadn't partaken in hard spirits until recently, her ability to handle her liquor wasn't the best.

A cybernetic stim that would process the alcohol faster would help in such instances but would require surgery, and the thought just gave Myra the shivers. Tolerance could be built, but surgery was permanent.

The glass would hover close to Myra's mouth, unconsciously worrying about the fullness of her lower lip. That Makai mentioned Corsucant didn't surprise her. Judah had been at her graduation after all -- although why Makai didn't show up was an unknown. It bothered her. Although she at least had the decency to recognize the hypocritical thought when she stayed away from his graduation. It had been an emotional week; she was already PMSing, and seeing Makai's pictures from his fraternity with Gods knows how many unidentified women made her so irrationally upset. She told her mama that she was not feeling well and ended up binge-watching eleven seasons of 'The Outworlder.' It was a great way to spend her 21st birthday.

"Mmm, yes." already using filler words, "Three years. I was in the advanced course for their Business Administration program," she told him, stormy orbs drifting over his face. They lingered there for a moment, taking him in. It was still surreal.

"I currently have an apartment on Chandrilla." Core worlds, Galactic Alliance space. It's relatively safe for now. Although to call it an 'apartment' was an understatement. Growing up with Makai as her singular friend meant that it was important for Myra to have the sea close to her. Her father, Alric Kuhn, once she selected the site she desired, built her a home based on her specifications. It came with complete state-of-the-art security, but it was the beach access that she wanted.

He was staring at her. Not once did he move his stormy blue gaze from her face as if mapping every curve. Myra didn't know how to take it. Did he see how I finally grew into my arms and legs? Did he like how I look now?

Am I pretty?

Irritation at how she quickly became lost in his gaze brought another flush of heat to her face. Observing her closer, one could see that she used high-quality powder on her face to hide the smattering of freckles Makai knew were there. When they were kids, Myra was so fascinated by his scales that she had demanded several times to count and touch every single one. Thinking back on that only embarrassed her more.

"How about you? Still mapping geographical sites? " that might have come out as a slightly sore subject, as the last time they met had been under a similar circumstance, which ended with disastrous results. Cold, wet, frustrated, and infuriated while stuck in a tiny tent during a storm. Makai had shut himself down to prevent more hurt, and Myra only took that ongoing miscommunication to the extreme.

Neither had departed with their best selves that night.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"Advanced? Figures. You've always been miles ahead." He flashed an easy, boyish smile. "I'm proud of you."

Makai was uncharacteristically quiet as she spoke, whisky glass resting on one knee as he continued to study her. Their gaze met and caught, watching the storm play out in her eyes. It was like watching dark clouds roll in from the ocean, changing the color of the sea from celadon to dusky and wild. He could picture it, wind picking up with crisp white peaks of water crashing against the rocks, a mix of beautiful and formidable all wrapped in one.

Well, this explains why I love watching the storms roll in over the water. They remind me of her.

"Me? Oh." Makai hadn't been exactly paying attention. "Yes and no.I'm working on a regional expansion project in the Pancath Reach area."

He went silent again after that. Makai got the impression that, at least currently, she really didn't care about what he had been doing as of late. He didn't take it as a slight, much of their time apart was like an open wound. Speaking about events during that time was like shoving salt deeper. Makai wished it didn't feel that way. He wanted to tell her about his time at Reena University. What he had studied, the summer term internships he had done. The sailing team. The wild antics his housemates had gotten into. There were other things too ; things about his father, trips they had taken, developments in the Dashiell household he found odd. The fact Koa was no longer around.

Hand idly moved the glass now, swirling the liquid during the awkward silence.

Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

If there was an analog clock, the heavy sounds of the secondhand counting would have punctured the tension with each strike.

"Oh, I see," Myra responded, her heart fluttering at her neck, breath quickening under his continued perusal. That flush over her face went trickling down her neck and over her chest, where the noticeable rise and fall drew short.

He made her skittish—Hyperaware of her surroundings and his every action. For a brief flash, she could pretend he was observing her with the same evocative intensity as Jamye McKenzie to Clare in Outworlder, the trending Corellian holodrama set in the four-hundred-year darkness after the Gulag plague.

"The Pancath Reach?" were any of those recent holopictures of his recent adventures? No, stop it, Myra told herself.

Shifting on her seat, the heiress took another sip, giving a nod as if in understanding. It was all an act. The faint tremble of her hand on the lowball showed it well.

"Anything interesting? Is Salacia moving into a new industry as well?" it appeared that Myra was trying to use the topic of business to try and fill in the space between the scars that words have carved upon them both.

Just three days. You can hold it together for three days. Myra told herself, attempting to hype herself up.

But that didn't stop the growing awareness of Makai's presence. Of what could have, should have been. Of fickle, fuddled words and the twisted lies she told to keep safe from the pain. After all, sometimes the most remarkable journey was the distance between two people.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

This was getting pointless.

Makai was itching to find his answers. They were dancing around one another but not even testing the waters. The more he studied her face, watched her movements and subtle body language the more he was convinced now was the time.

Dinner be damned.

He quickly downed the rest of his drink before standing, moving towards the study door and shutting it, turning the lock from the inside. This wasn't something he wanted interrupted. Makai could tell she was caught off guard by his actions, part of him was surprised by his own actions. Perhaps L3 had hyped him up a little too much while getting dressed.

“We can’t do this anymore. I need answers. We’re not leaving til this is sorted out.”

He didn’t make a move to sit back down but drew closer as he began to speak. While emboldened, he was nervous and sitting still would only make things worse. Iced-blue eyes didn't leave hers as he began to speak.

“The way I see it we’ve got three options. First, we never see each other again. Nearly impossible considering our families and the circles we both run in. It can be done though, I’d honor your request. I can slink back into the backwaters, lose all your contact information, just disappear really.”

“Option two, we remain friends.Just friends.It will be an adjustment but with a bit of time and effort things will ease back into a sense of normalcy. In this option, be absolutely sure. You’ll have no right getting upset when I find someone, no sulking, no ornery actions.”

“Option three….well, it's the one I’m fighting for.”

Makai paused for a moment, mentally preparing himself for his next words. He hoped he didn’t fumble around and look like an idiot.

“Option three is admitting that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.As a younger man, this was a frightening revelation. You are no stranger to the events that transpired when I was a kid and, while not using it as an excuse, I really didn’t know how to handle a lot of things when it came to feelings of love and romantic attachment. I ran from it, I didn’t want to get hurt again.”

He shook his head, thinking back on the past few years.

“I was wrong though. By running I hurt not only myself but also you. I am truly sorry. I'm aware that I’ll never be able to fully make up for my mistakes.”

“Ellie, I love you. I’m tired of this. I just want to be with you for as long as you’ll keep me around.”


Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

At every crossroads in life, there is always one right choice. Inevitably, when it came to Makai Dashiell, Myra's decisions in her scant two decades of life had her turn left.

It wasn't entirely her fault. Much like her adoptive mother before her, Danger Arceneau's youth resulted in taking the path of most resistance. As her momma was wont to repeat the wisdom of her adoptive grandmother, Colette Arceneau, the Gods give, and most women piss it away. Any outsider who had been privy to this twisted tale of childhood sweetheart angst of a convoluted love story could see that while Makai was the one to apologize, in actuality, the one who caused all this trouble more aptly lay at the feet of the one he was declaring his love to.

Perhaps this is why Danger was so apt to work alongside Judah and get her daughter in the situation to make her face her fears. It was evident that the girl was head over heels for Makai but fell into the hole created by her mental demons. When a woman looks into her mother's eyes, she sees her future. When she looks into her daughter's eyes, she sees her past. But when she looks into the eyes of the man she shares her bed with, she sees the life she has chosen. Love lifts a woman up or drags her down. The last thing Danger wished for her daughter was for the sins of the mother to be visited upon by her daughter. It took the Trade Queen far too long to realize what was important in her life.

There was a decision to make. It would either break them or finally sew them whole. After all, love could turn to hate, like wine to vinegar.

Either way, Makai had to give himself some credit. If he ever wanted to tongue-tie Myra Elspeth Arceneau, he sure as the nine hells found a way to do so. Wide-eyed and stunned, Myra felt herself blink rapidly while trying to process the ultimatum and ever-growing nearness of Makai. When he'd stood up to lock the door, she came to her feet only to take a step back as he'd purposely drew near.

It was not fear or alarm that caused her to step back, bumping into the chair anew. Her glass came high and close to her chest, the amber liquid swirling a whirlwind as her heart seemed to thunder so loud, it was a wonder if Makai couldn't hear it.

"I... you... what?" the veneer of the calm, pretty businesswoman melted away, Myra's face blanching. She heard what he said; she wasn't that inebriated to not catch each option he presented to her. Each step closed the distance until, again, she could smell the drift of the sea and the sweetness of sea moss and bergamot.

He loves me? It was a dream to hear him say within the same breath that he wanted to be with her for as long as she wanted him to stay. It was like a scene plucked out of Outworlder, with Jayme McKenzie confessing his love for Clare. How many times had she superimposed Makai onto the fantasy character and imagined him acting out each one of those scenes: the confession, the kisses, the...

Halting that train of thought and needing some space to process, Myra held up her hand in a gesture to wait, murmuring, "Just... give me a few seconds," it wasn't a refusal. It was just that Makai dropped an overwhelming amount of information on an already tense reunion, and now she was half wondering if she was dreaming.

Stormy grey eyes never left his as she drank the rest of the whiskey, needing to steel herself for rejection. The burn brought with it a measure of clarity. The question that followed wasn't intended to be taken as doubting his words, but it was the self-conscious necessity of making absolutely sure what he was saying.

"W-what is it that you want?" She asked, vulnerability in her expression. Half of her wanted to know, and the other half didn't.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Makai stepped back a step or two and slid his hands in his pockets. He hadn't expected Ellie to try to follow him when he locked the door and they had been entangled in each others personal space during his speech. It had been more than a little bit of a nerve racking experience, the blood left rushing in his ears made it barely possible to hear her murmur of needing a second. He could really use a second drink but was aware than brushing close to her while she was trying to sort out her thoughts wasn't the best idea.

He had already expected her to need a moment or three to think things over. Makai had the advantage of plotting out his moves since his talks with the L3 protocol droid, Ellie didn't have the same luxury. When they had been kids, Ellie had been completely mute, Makai left to carry on the conversation for her as they spent time together. It was even how she got her nickname from him, there had been no words to protest. Boy, how that changed in a few short years. Now she was quiet as when he first met her.

"W-what is it that you want?" She asked, vulnerability in her expression. Half of her wanted to know, and the other half didn't.

"Ellie, I love you. I just want to be with you for as long as you'll keep me around."

Very rarely had he seen his friend let her guard down enough to display a sense of vulnerability. Ellie was good at putting up a front, the veneer L3 had mentioned as they walked down the hallway not too long ago. Words spoken, he remained silent, watching her process what had just transpired.


Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Oh, feth. Okay. He really did say that.

Myra’s heart jumpstarted into hyperdrive. There was a kindle of frisson stirring in her chest, as if flutterbys took roost in her belly then all flew en mass upwards.

Her mouth opened to speak only to close, blinking rapidly to try and control the sudden moisture collecting there. She finally withdrew her gaze from his icy blue stormy gaze, parting turbulent seas from blustery gray skies.

“I need a another drink. D-do you need a drink? I think we both need another drink.” She began to babble with overwhelming nervousness and giddiness that made the color return to her face, swelling like a wave of pink up her chest and over her face. Her left hand came up, playing with the teardrop of her earring in nervousness.

She began to pace on unsteady legs back to the whiskey bottle, intending to pour them both another drink. No words of rejection. Just of a mighty strong necessity to will some strength to her person. There were so many questions. He had hurt her with his oblivious actions in the past, breaking her heart in a blink of and eye— but it wasn’t as if she wasn’t part of the problem either.

Perhaps it was to her benefit that the Companion training at the Oirán Guildhouse forced her to learn the art of truly listening and proper communication. It was something in her past that she stumbled over herself time and time again.

Here he was right here, right before her eyes. No where to hide now. Not if she wanted to try and get past him to that locked door.

So many questions came to mind, battling to tumble from her mouth in a chaotic stream. Yet Myra knew better now. Better than to bombard Makai into reverting to the internal mental space where he blanked everything out.

“Then what does loving and being with me look like?”

Again, it might seem as if she were fishing for compliments, but it wasn’t. She wanted to be absolutely clear what he meant when he said he loved her and wanted to be with her. Not as a sister. Not as a friend. Not as a childhood memory. For all she knew he was seeing someone else. Her mental demons surly loved to play a jealous picture in her head when it came to Makai— but that was because she never understood where her place was in his heart.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Ah, the sister thing rears its head. Took longer than I expected it to.

To be honest, he had no idea where she had gotten the idea from. Yes, the seventeen year old version of himself probably didn't express himself well enough but jumping from friend-to-potentially-more to a sibling was a big stretch and one he didn't quite understand. Best he could think was in an effort to be protective of her it came across more as brotherly action than its true intentions. Nothing he could do about that now.

Hand brushed against hers as he grabbed his drink and murmured a thanks. Makai knew he had to flesh out his answer well enough to prevent her from finding an ounce of doubt. Even then, knowing Ellie, she would find some chink in his reply. It didn't matter, the door was locked and if he had to up the way he showed her that the feelings were anything but romantic he had nothing but time.

"First, and most practically, a re-arranging of my schedule so we can actually spend time together."

The elder Dashiell was keeping his son busy, to the point where Makai hadn't set foot in his room on Celestia Station since a few weeks after leaving school. Upon pointing this out, he was very clearly reminded that he had somehow found time to spend time with Corek Jr and Elpsis, so apparently he was good at balancing his work. When it came to Ellie though, Makai knew his father would take exception.

"What does our relationship look like?" To say he hadn't thought about this before today would be an utter lie. "Its two love struck fools trying to do their best. Dates ; the opera, picnics on the beach, out to dinner, binge watching Eastworld while eating too much junk food. More importantly, its a safe shelter in the storm. Its getting to laugh and cry together knowing that the presence of the other is going to help us get through."

Makai took a drink before continuing, he needed the liquid courage.

"Think about it, our days conquering the business world, nights in your bed."

Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

“I-I,” Makai’s clarification had a way of discombobulating her with the vivid mental picture Makai was was painting for her. Now her face was blazing hot, her throat bobbing as it caught in her throat.

Even if she wanted to twist his confession, there was no ignoring the low proposal or the manner by which he held her gaze when he said them. Watching her as if terrified of her response but determined to see this through. Tipping her head back to observe him, Myra mapped the lines and angles of his beloved face. Older, with bronze skin from being out in the sun, no longer a teenage boy but a young man. They went tracing the slant of his brows, the chisel of his jaw, back up to the promise he held in his ocean blue eyes. The deep affection he held for her was finally clear. Stormy seas calmed to finally reveal way lay in the fathoms below. He loved her. Here. Now. All cards on the table waiting for her to risk and go big, or fold and call it.

All of the pinning and anticipation, fantasies and trepidation was clearly etched upon Myra’s visage. Her lower lip quivered in vulnerability and eyes evoked the longing she’d so desperately held close to her heart for Makai for so long.

“A-re you sure?” There was the barest of hestitant steps toward his direction, a subtle shift but a promising one. The whisper of fabric went brushing against her legs, her heart thundering in her ears. But all she could do was tip her head back and drawer closer, as if she were a moth to his flame.

Myra knew early on she never just wanted to just be his best friend. Perhaps… just maybe, there was a chance for this to work— and if she got burned well at least they’d be electrified.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"Never more sure."

Setting down his drink, he gently took hers, placing it next to his. He was finally able to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear, fingertips gently brushing her skin. There had been a subtle shift and Makai was positive he was making progress that he was slowly getting through to her that yes, this was really happening.

He was ready to start their next adventure together, to give their relationship a chance to blossom. There had been a small concern if things didn't work out, that if they crashed and burned he would be losing her forever. Yet their 'chance' reunion made him realize that such a thing was going to happen whether he took action or remained passive. He didn't want to let five, ten, fifteen years go by only to look back at his foolishness.

Hand slipped around her, gently drawing closer as a kiss was finally placed on those coral stained lips. It was soft and sweet, Makai was making sure he didn't push too far. Ellie had been his first kiss and with any luck she was going to be his last for a long, long time. He tilted back and he flashed her one of his boyish smiles.

"I've been wanting to do that since we sat down."


Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

It was the lightest brush, but the warmth that permeated from Makai's lips onto Myra's own provided the same level of reality as pinching herself would. She didn't fully close her eyes, peering up at Makai with heavy-lidded eyes. She drew in a deep breath, breathing him in, melting the sweet oak of the whiskey with the salt of the sea and bergamot of his cologne anew and, at this distance, that underlying scent of fresh soap.

It was a heady combination when Myra saw the affection in his eyes and flashed her that signature little boy smile. He thrummed with energy, thick lashes surrounding electric blue orbs in elation that Myra allowed him this much. Hope fluttered inside her, kindling the sparks she felt anytime she was near him.

A fine trembling took her, and an overwhelming desire rose that she'd held back for so long. She wanted to caress the sharp outlines of Makai's face, to rest firmly in his embrace, and bury her face firmly in his broad chest to continue breathing in his scent.

So she did. Myra's slight weight drew against Makai, knees weak, needing the strength of his arms to brace herself. She pressed her forehead against his chest, the loose strands of her hair tickling his neck, bringing with it the citrus scent of her shampoo that haunted the fantasies of his youth and still brought her image to his mind. It blended now with the sweet summer scent of honeysuckle from her perfume, heady and sweet, painting an image of dusk, amber skies, and a girl who was no longer a child but a woman grown.

"I love you too, Makai." came her muffled confession, lump in her throat, heart bare for him to break. Time and time again, she had asked herself what she could do to make him completely hers—battling possessive desires and the ache of missing him terribly. It took her this long, and her training at the Oiran House to realize the simplicity in conveying what was in her heart would have saved them years of heartache and trouble.

"I always have." A pause. An oath. "I always will."

Makai Dashiell

 

[Makai Dashiell]

He gently rubbed her back for a moment, trying to convey the fact that it was going to be okay. They would make up for lost time. Old wounds would heal. Each would be able to lean on the other. It wasn't lost on him the fact both had grown through their own traumas, kindling a gentle maturity that their teenage selves didn't have. Despite the last painful years of being apart, of being angry and hurt, Makai in a way was thankful they hadn't perused more earlier. Neither had been in a good position to have the emotional depth to foster and nurture the love and affection between them.

It would have ended in complete disaster. Irreparable.

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the citrus shampoo that she hadn't changed in, how long? It had been the smell of teenaged boy fantasies, a longing with an inability to act. It was also the smell of home, a sense of belonging and comfort. It brought to mind the days they were in the sun and on the open ocean, teaching her to drive the boat or swimming through brilliant coral reefs together.

Muffled voice proclaimed its love and to say he was surprised was an understatement. He didn't expect it. Makai knew Ellie loved him and he didn't declare his love to force her to parrot it back. This was no forced reciprocation, but a genuine admission. It was music to his ears to hear either way, to fully know she was all in.

A small rapt on the door.

[ Mistress Arceneau, Mister Dashiell, are you alright? Dinner is ready. ]

"Give us ten more minutes L3. Just...put it on warm."

[ Understood Sir. ]

"I'm surprised he didn't just break in like he did the bathroom." Makai made no move to let her go, her warmth against him a welcomed feeling. It brought up stirrings of protectiveness and a strong desire to please her, to see approval shining back in those stormy gray eyes. "Ten minutes okay? I'm not ready to let you go just yet."

Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Hearing L3's voice through the locked door prompted the young woman to tense. It was a reminder that they were not alone in the station. The embarrassment flooded her face, and she was not quite ready to look into Makai's eyes just yet.

His voice reverberated within his chest, her hot cheek pressed against it. The racing beat of his heart was there for her to hear. It sounded as if he'd been swimming out in the sea again, a testimony to the intense emotions he'd been working through.

Myra couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the absurdity of the situation. This was not the scenario she'd pictured when her mother requested she discuss the terms of the drill bit contract with Salacia.

Her shoulders shook until she managed to take a deep breath. Closing her eyes, a silent nod brushed against Makai's chest. Alright, ten minutes. Or however long before the awkwardness came crashing in again.

Sure, they had finally confessed their affection for each other, but that didn't mean things would be one hundred percent okay. They still had to talk; odds were that both had to navigate what were their next steps carefully.

Another second, then suddenly, "Wait -- what? El-Three did what?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Her shoulders tensed at the interruption of the protocol droid, reminding Makai that while the feelings had been brewing between them for years, this part was all new. It didn't take but a few moments for her to settle back against him, a deep centering breath in an effort to relax.

At her question he laughed, realizing that he hadn't been able to tell his tale of adventure.

"Well you know L3 took me to get something suitable so while he did his mystical conjuring, I grabbed a beer and hopped in the shower to wallow in self pity. It's very cathartic, hot water, cold beer….anyways, L3 thinks seventeen minutes is far too long to be under the water. The mining shuttle only has a sonic, so naturally I was taking advantage of some real water."

"One minute L3 is outside the door and the next he's inside staring at me like a horror holofilm. I mean, I don't have any short comings and we're both guys but uh, a little unnerving. Apparently locked doors are no match for him."

Hand moved up and down her back again as he looked down, clearly finding his adventures with L3 more than a little hilarious.

"However, I owe this in part to L3 so my complaints are nil. Too bad he's a droid, I feel I should take him out for drinks in repayment."

Myra Arceneau Dashiell

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

At that, Myra couldn't help but finally draw back and look up. Her brows furrowed in disbelief, confused that L3 had done that. "He did what?"

Mortification came to play over her features, only to be replaced by fleeting thoughts of curiosity and perplexion. "A shower beer?"

These were the sort of things that Myra had no experience with. Her teenage years were spent being the introverted one, doing her best to excel in her studies with as much education and coursework as possible. When that wasn't the case, there were galas, operas, and social events expected of an Arceneau Kuhn. While Danger and Alric did their best to shelter their daughter from trouble or concern when she decided to take on the family businesses, her schedule became overfilled with as much exposure to negotiations with Saffron, Aeri, Ali'Shaven, and her mother.

On Alric's end, he invited her to conference calls and technology seminars, discussing new industries and how to handle competitors. When she wasn't shadowing in the office, she was dressed to the nines, attempting to balance a fine line between an educated, lovely lady and business heiress.

The importance of reputation and perception had been made all too clear for Myra. At first, it had been a struggle, as she did not enjoy being around crowded events. It took nearly a decade of therapy and training to get where she was now. Even then, there were moments when the panic attacks would loom, and she'd feel so out of breath and anxious that she'd have to step out to get some air before prying eyes would notice.

"I deeply apologize, El-Three is supposed to ensure your comfort and stay." Myra apologized, slipping into the role expected of her again. Makai would feel her attempt to draw away, her mind now on having a word with her protocol droid. Her mother had especially programmed L3 to be Myra's assistant, both in her matters and business. She'd spent an entire week testing, answering several personal questions so it could be programmed to be compatible with her temperament. His programming was finely tuned to Myra, entirely freethinking but loyal to Myra, with the unique ability to learn, adapt, and look after Myra's well-being and needs to the best of his ability.

Perhaps that is why L3 had been so forthright with Makai upon determining his identity. Myra had been honest regarding her sentiments and fears regarding the younger Dashiell. It was for his mistress well-being to rectify that chapter of her life.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"That's what you're thinking about during our moment? El-three?"

His moment was interrupted by a droid twice now, first the rapt at the door and now the fact that L3s actions were running through Ellie's mind, a determined look across her face as if to level with the protocol droid. Makai didn't know the droid was a type of personal assistant for the young woman and suspected if they were going to cross paths regularly, he would have to stress the importance of not interrupting.

His hands gently slid up to rest on her shoulders, resting there so he could force Ellie to slow down and look at him before she went off on a tear about protocol and comfort and whatever else Danger Arceneau had been drilling into her daughters head over the last few years.

"While I think that Myra Arceneau, take charge business woman is an incredibly sexy thing to watch in action, while we're together can I have Ellie the girlfriend?" Makai was painfully aware for awhile their time together would be short and they had a lot to sift through. Not that every piece of agenda was pressing, but there were things that needed addressing before they parted. "El-three did exactly what he was supposed to do, my comfort was absolutely assured. Up until a few moments ago I was relaxed and holding the most beautiful girl in the 'verse, so I'm not sure how it could get much better."

Except these pants could be a little more loose.

Hands dropped from her shoulders, his speech over. Makai was quite sure once they went to their separate suites for the evening, poor L3 was going to be at the short end of some Arceneau ire.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

This was Myra's limit. There had to be no other way that Myra could feel as embarrassed and out of sorts as she did now. Her face was as crimson as a Corseca gem, a result of Makai reminding her that her sudden switch to the role expected of her during such an intimate moment was out of place. To her credit, she'd never been in such a situation before, so the nav points were unclear.

Only in her dreams had she imagined Makai holding her in his arms, kissing her, and --oh my word, did he say girlfriend?

That brought a flush of giddiness low in her belly. She had to pinch herself! At least until the waterfall of compliments, Makai gifted her with fell from his lips. Okay, she was wrong. She could feel even more embarrassed than before. This time, however, it came with a small rock of her feet, the swish of her dress alongside her legs, and a curious studying of Makai's expression.

Did he really mean that? Second guessing and questioning came second nature to her. He was giving her everything she wanted, and it felt surreal.

"I'm sorreh," the drawl was a testament to her nervous energy. "I... this is overwhelming." A pause, only to add, " I'm just... still processing."

Her hands began to wring as they clasped together and fell away.

"And not sure what to do next other than... what I was supposed to." in terms of getting this contract settled along with ideas for the next.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"There's no need to apologize. It is new and overwhelming and exciting and frightening. However, we're in this together, right? I bet in a few short months we'll look like two professionals at this."

He immediately felt bad about the flush of red on her face, the embarrassment at switching to business mode during their quiet moment. There was going to be a lot of second guessing and shaky steps for both of them until figuring out the new dynamic was second nature. Makai was only on better footing at the moment thanks to the protocol droid but even then he was still unsure and nervous about every action. It was top of mind not to overwhelm her and drive her away, but also important to show her that he was extremely serious about being with her and making up for past mistakes.

"As for what to do, we're still friends so whatever you would normally do. Curse me for eating chocochews? Call me an idiot? Roll your eyes at me?"

Makai couldn't help but gently tease her. He reached out and took a hand.

"Right now though, I'm a growing boy who still requires a lot of food. I've been fending for myself and its been...interesting. While over dinner maybe we can discuss what we do next? When I can see you again, our schedules, that sort of thing. I don't want to leave without that settled, the tunnel borers will take care of themselves, so we can put that on the backburner."

Myra Arceneau Dashiell