*went ahead and broke up the first very long chapter into smaller parts to make it easier to read.*

Her nails were filthy, as was the rest of her. The dirt her last cellmate flung at her was still sticking, and of course the guards wouldn't let her wash it off. It had been a week. Her life had turned from blind rage to quiet introspection in this cell. Now, she had nothing else to do but train, and exercise. Every day she thought of how to murder the casino guards and finally escape, but that dream seemed more and more hopeless with each passing day.

Then, something interesting happened…something that would change her life for the better. The guards brought someone else into her cell.

A man staggered in beside the guards. From the brief look she got at him, he looked worse for wear, which was the way most casino patrons looked. He stumbled in and fell immediately on the cot next to hers. He smelled like liquor. She assumed he was just another drunk that needed to cool off from the casino upstairs. But after the guards left, he sat upright in bed rather abruptly.

"This place smells awful," he said looking around. She couldn't see his face very well, just the outline of it. His voice was low, but not sluggish in the way a drunk normally speaks.

"We're near the stables," she piped up from the darkness across from him.

He turned his head in her direction. "Oh, well hello t-t-there."

"Hello," she answered.

"I didn't notice you there in the darkness." He said, pointing a finger in her direction. She instinctively put her long cloak over her arms, making sure he couldn't really see her.

"Didn't know if you were like my last cellmate, who was… rude," she said.

"Ah, and w-w-what happened to this cellmate?" He said, taking his long boots off. He had holes in his socks. He probably hadn't been a patron of the casino.

"Oh, he's very dead," she explained calmly. Her cellmate had been a nuisance. She didn't regret killing him.

"Well, that's good at least," he said.

She heard footsteps approaching. The guards called out, "You put the drunk in the cell with her!" The 'drunk' went back to pretending to sleep, as the guards came to carry him out. Not before stunning her a few times to make sure she didn't try anything. She took the hits and stayed down, not wanting to cause more trouble.

They moved him to the cell across from hers. After the guards left, he waited and then came up to the bars. She was still laying on the ground, but her cloak was covering her face. When she pulled herself up, she saw him staring at her dirty arms. She felt an intense amount of shame and quickly hid in the back of the cell.

He stared at her into the darkness for a moment, and then his attitude changed as he relaxed against the bars, inspecting the lock to the door.

She thought he must have been a smuggler or thief; he certainly looked the part. He still didn't have his boots on, so his toes stuck out touching the cold floor, which made him look ridiculous. She thought about telling him how disgusting the floor had been, but decided to stay silent and watch him. His rough appearance conveyed poverty, though she told herself it could have been an act. He wasn't as dirty as her, but he was maybe a little greasy. She couldn't tell from this far away. She enjoyed watching him inspect the lock, though. He seemed to be playing with it. She couldn't make out his face well from so far away, but she could tell his features were dark and perhaps even handsome. It threw her off a bit.

"Ya know, shadow-lady, I've been thinking," he wondered, pointing a silver pick in her direction. "Why haven't they killed you yet? I mean if you're going around murdering people...what are you doing a-a-alive?" Maybe it was his strange way of speaking or the relaxed humor behind his eyes, but she found herself warming up to him very fast.

She chucked softly at his strange candor. "I wasn't going to kill you."

"Oh, I have no doubt in my mind, I would have been safe sleeping across from you, but it is a bit-t-t strange don't you think?" He said while fiddling with the lock. He had an odd sort of stutter. It didn't seem like one based on nervousness, or however stutters work. It was more like a tick, or like he was doing it for fun. Either way, for her it only added to his character.

"Not strange for Canto Bight," she replied, "Murder isn't exactly unheard of here, and they're used to seeing me."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere while this door is closed. You s-s-say they're used to seeing you here? Are you a trouble maker, shadow-lady?" He picked something from his hat, and continued to fiddle with the lock. It didn't look like he was trying to unlock it, more study it, as though he needed to understand it first.

She didn't answer. Something about him relaxed her, which made her a bit wary of him. He looked up briefly into the darkness towards her.

"I like your voice shadow-lady. Can't remember the last time I heard a thing so pleasant," he said. She thought she saw him wink, but couldn't be sure.

He had tried to reassure her, which she didn't expect. It worked. She responded, "On Canto Bight if you don't have the money, then you serve the money. I serve. His name means something. So, here I am… left to rot, until he picks me up."

"And I was hoping you were single," he said sardonically.

She shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "It isn't like that. I guard and kill people for him." The words felt like poison on her lips.

He stopped again to look at the darkness where she hid, "And this killing, do you enjoy it?"

"Not particularly," she admitted, "I'm sure I could find better people to kill."

She saw him shrug his shoulders in agreement. "Then why not one day when someone g-g-goes to stab him, you just step aside and…let him get stabbed?" he asked. The man left the lock alone and went back to his cot.

Her hand went to her wrist. "He can kill me at any moment. If he died, his daughter would activate this wristband and kill me. I'm beginning to think he forgot about me."

"Hmm…" the man said. Suddenly, the guards bring in what look like two very rowdy children. The man falls silent, and she assumes, goes back to pretending to be an asleep drunk. They place the two people in the cell with the thief. They're a very talkative pair, and from what the woman can gather, members of the resistance. They make a deal with the smuggler, it sounds like…or maybe not. It's hard to hear the conversation. Suddenly, his cell door opens, and he briskly walks out. The two resistance fighters leave in the opposite direction. The woman sighs, disappointed with the way this has turned out for her. If she had kept her mouth shut then the man wouldn't have been moved and she could have escaped when he did.

"You know…" The man says as he briskly strolls back to her cell. "I've seen those devices before." He opens her cell, walking toward her confidently. She's still hidden in the darkness, but he can make an outline of her. He points to her left arm. She realizes he must have seen it when she was stunned on the ground.

A bunch of crashing sounds down the hallway. The woman is still hesitant as the man ignores the noise and continues to stare at her. She steps forward, extending her arm, but trying to cover her face with the cowl of her cloak. Before she covers her face, she sees him glance at her. Her cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

"I'm not actually this filthy." She says, slowly extending her arm.

He takes her wrist in his hand, and pulls something out of his hat. He doesn't seem bothered by her mud-covered arms, just focused on the device around her wrist.

"I didn't believe you were," he said. Suddenly a jolt of electricity goes through her arm, and the device powers down. He places a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's get a ship with a good bath, eh?" He leaves the cell but doesn't let go of her wrist, pulling her alongside him. Her heart racing, she follows the man. She wonders what is happening, as she has a short out of body experience. She looks at herself, following a stranger who's just released her from this burden on her arm. She wonders if she's allowing herself to be kidnapped. If he's someone that works for her boss or one of his boss's enemies and wants to take her to them. She stares at the device on her arm, still bewildered that it's powered off. She lets go of his hand trying to slip it off, but finds though it's loosened it still too tight to fit over her hand. He glances back to her. He pauses, waiting to see if she's still following. When he notices she's just trying to slip the wristband off, he rounds the corner.

After a stalemate battle with the wristband, she follows him around the corner and see's he and a small droid. The droid was apparently responsible for the noise they heard earlier. She notices the guards have been tied up, or knocked out on the ground. The woman kicks a couple of them in the head, untying one who'd been particularly cruel, to fight him. The droid beeps at her, but the man shushes it. She quickly dispatches of the guard, spitting on his face. She turns back to them, to find the man looking nonplussed and the droid beeping angrily. She realizes fast, that the droid is very bossy. It seems the smuggler and the resistance fighters did make a deal, and the droid is with them. She didn't know what she'd gotten herself into, but she didn't have many more options now. If they were planning on leaving this planet, she wanted to be with them.

"Let's take my boss's ship." She suggests as they argue about where the two fighters have gone. That seems to shut them up. They make way to the docking bay, with her leading the way, clearing out anyone in their path.

The guards outside the ship recognize her. They have wristbands on their arms like hers. She knocks them out, deciding not to kill them. She knows they don't have much choice in the matter. Though their fate may be worse when her boss realizes his ship is gone.

The man looks impressed with her fighting skills. She's familiar with the kind of look he gives her. Many of her boss's partners offered to buy her from him, but he insisted she was indispensable. That had always given her a sense of pride. She knew it was a warped way to view herself, but she relied on any positivity in her life to survive…even if that was praise from her tyrannical boss. The way the man looked at her was different though. Not just entertained, but extremely impressed. There was a respect behind his eyes, and something else. She couldn't place it yet.

Ignoring the man's constant eye on her, she looked at the ground as she spoke, "I know the passcode to enter the ship, but if there's a lock in the pilot—"

"I'll handle it," he reassured them. "You and the d-d-droid just clear the ship."

Luckily, the ship was empty. She wasn't sure if she would have been prepared for a large showdown in her state. Her adrenaline was beginning to subside. The man easily unlocked the interface in the pilot's seat, and soon they were off. She was amazed by his splicing skills.

Now on board the ship and only able to focus on cleaning as soon as possible, she excused herself. She headed directly to her old boss's bedroom. She locked the door behind her, took her cloak and clothes off and started the shower in his spa-like bathroom. It was something she had always eyed before, and the idea of bathing in it now was too good of an opportunity to miss.

She was still unable to remove the wristband in the shower. With soap to loosen it she was at least able to clean around and under where it had been. After scrubbing and washing for at least an hour, she headed into his closet. Remembering that he was a 4-hundred-pound man, she saw none of his clothing would fit her. Luckily, his daughter's quarters were nearby. She took the towel she'd wrapped around her head, and placed it around her waist instead. Opening the adjacent door, she headed into his daughter's room, and gasped as she entered.

The maybe-thief man was standing by the daughter's vanity table, holding up a bottle of perfume, that the woman realized he'd just recently sprayed. When she enters, he's coughing and putting the perfume back down on the table, clearly regretting the decision She backed into the hallway, hoping he didn't see her in a towel. Luckily, he didn't, but he did hear her gasp.

"Uhhhh…who is there?" he asks.

"Hello, again," she says quietly from the hallway.

"The shadow-lady reappears," he announces, "well…s-s-sort of."

"I need to get into that room to look for clothing, so if you don't mind-"

He interrupts her, "How about I'll close my eyes, and you lead me out of here?"

"What?" she says surprised, "No. Just hand me something from the closet," she demands.

She hears the man fumble around in the room. After a minute, he sticks his hand out of the door, holding the gaudiest bright pink dress she's ever seen. She can hear him giggling from in the room.

Giving up, she says, "Fine, close your eyes."

"You got it."

She peaks around the door. His eyes are closed. Slowly, she takes his hand and leads him out of the room. When they've reached outside, she takes a moment to examine him in the better lighting of the ship. His hair is a bit disheveled, and his face looks like it could use a shave. He had thick black eyebrows and eyes with deep, dark circles around them. He looked worn down. His eyes weren't droopy, but they looked very tired. Even, as they escaped she remembered his eyes always looked half closed. She realized it was just the way his face looked, and she certainly enjoyed looking at it. She found him full of character, and quite handsome.

She gets a bit carried away, forgetting that he's waiting on her to let go of him. She assumed his hands would be rougher to match his appearance, and because he seemed like a tinkerer. But in fact, there are only a few calluses on it. She wondered if he had any combat training at all. She gets lost in thought, tracing her fingers over his palm. She feels his breathing deepen as he steps closer to her.

"Wow, shadow-lady you smell really good," he says.

"Are you sure it's not the perfume you were just wearing?" she says sarcastically, and dropping his hand. She regrets holding onto his hand for so long. She feels like she took advantage of him slightly, considering she made him keep his eyes closed. He seemed undeterred from her sarcasm, stepping closer to her again.

"That stuff was f-f-fruity. You smell…" She watches him to see if he keeps his eyes closed, which he does. His presence is compelling, as she feels him take up all the space around her. Even though he doesn't get close enough to touch her, the heat of his chest warms her in the cold hallway. He puts his hands behind his back and leans down to her. Somehow, he knows exactly where she is, as he hovers over her head taking a long breath in, smelling her hair, "like fresh flowers. Your voice is sweet. You smell sweet. I bet you taste sweet too."

The word taste rings in her ears as she bewilderedly stares up at him. He has a devilish grin on his face. She thinks about pushing him away or hitting him, but instead softly chuckles.

"You certainly are bold," she says.

"I think knowing you could kill me at any moment, makes me so bold," his hands drop to his sides. One of them briefly touches her hip, and she backs away immediately. He takes a step back as well respecting the space again, and she closes the door behind her. She hears him start to whistle as he walks away. Feeling light headed, she sits on the bed. She hadn't expected a response like that, but it didn't make her uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable, it was at how much she enjoyed his confidence. She barely knew the man. She checks her pulse, and makes sure she's breathing. After catching her breath, she gets up.