Author Note: So this came from a conversation on viewpoints during awkward moments and well, if you've been reading Family is More than Blood, you know by now that Jorgan is my favorite character to pick on. This piece of nonsense made me laugh, hopefully it will you too.

Coruscant
Military Commando Barracks

Captain Aric Jorgan paced his small room in the officer's wing of the barracks. Garza had grounded Fynta until she was completely healed from her wounds; it was the only way to keep the blasted woman from reinjuring herself. Technically, Jorgan and the major weren't supposed to be married, so command had given them separate quarters. To make things more difficult, Fynta's was on a completely different floor, which made Jorgan wonder if General Garza had finally caught on.

Balic and Elara, on the other hand, were legally recognized by the military as husband and wife. Elara's status as lieutenant earned them both a room right next door to Jorgan. Yuun occupied the one on the other side, while Vik had been relegated to the enlisted barracks hall.

Still, it was no surprise when someone knocked on Aric's door a little past 2300 hours. Knowing exactly who it would be, he answered wearing simple workout pants and nothing else. The ensemble had the desired effect. Fynta's eyes traveled over his body greedily before she pushed him into the room and kicked the door shut behind her.

"I thought you were confined to quarters," Jorgan asked with a raised brow as Fynta herded him deeper into the room.

"I'm a slippery one," Fynta purred, drawing a chuckle from Jorgan.

"I'll bet."

"Besides, you should really be careful answering the door like that, Captain," Fynta emphasized his rank while running skilled fingers over his chest. "There are all kinds of salacious people out this time of night."

"Just what I was looking for," Jorgan responded. "A salacious woman to fill my bed." He'd never have the way with words his wife did, but Aric was rewarded by a rough shove that carried the back of his knees into the footboard and tipped them both onto the mattress. Jorgan landed with a grunt, Fynta straddling his stomach with her hair hanging around their faces like a curtain.

Placing his hands on either side of her face, Jorgan pushed Fynta's hair out of the way and pulled his wife down for a kiss. She responded aggressively, as always, biting Jorgan's lower lip and sucking it into her mouth. Jorgan rumbled deep in his chest and flipped them over, putting himself on top and pinning Fynta's hands above her head. Generally speaking, this was a bad idea. Having sex with his commanding officer on a military base was just asking for trouble, but Fynta was impossible to deny.

Jorgan was just beginning to work Fynta's shirt over her head when he heard something next door. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at the offending wall and waited. Nothing else happened, so Jorgan returned his attention to his wife.

A second crash interrupted him as he placed kisses down Fynta's stomach, causing Jorgan to prop up on his elbows and look around. "What the hell is that?"

A single, whispered word reached the Cathar's sharp ears. "Balic." The voice definitely didn't belong to his wife, meaning . . . . Jorgan's mind slammed to a halt as he realized what was happening in the other room. The Cathar was on his feet in an instant.

"What's wrong?" Fynta asked, suddenly tense.

Jorgan glanced back at Fynta as he snatched up the tv remote, mortified by the images his mind conjured. Then, he realized that Fynta must not be able to hear what he could, which somehow made the whole situation worse. Flopping down on the end of the bed, Jorgan flipped rapidly through the channels, not really seeing any of them. Suddenly, the wall shook with greater force, finally drawing Fynta's attention.

She crawled to the end of the bed, and slipped off to pad across the floor. Another thump, followed by what sounded like the crashing of a lamp and the deep growl of a masculine voice, made Jorgan grind his teeth. Fynta's face split into a grin as she looked back at the him. "Are they?"

Jorgan refused to look at her, focusing on maintaining his rapid channel switching until he realized there were only thirteen to begin with and he'd gone through them at least five times. Fynta shook her head, and pressed closer to the divider between the two rooms, smile growing when Cormac, no, not Cormac, the man next door, swore.

"Hey, his Mando'a is getting good," Fynta commented, ear still pressed against the wall as she cut her eyes at Jorgan. "How well can you hear that?"

At that moment, a high pitched, breathy moan emanated from the other room and Jorgan snarled. That was not Elara, a woman he'd been friends with for nearly four years. He didn't know that woman, refused to. Jorgan turned up the volume and Fynta laughed.

"I'd bang on their door, but they seem to be enjoying themselves," Fynta teased as she slipped back onto the bed behind Jorgan. Her arms slid around his neck to travel over his chest and down his stomach.

Jorgan grabbed her wrists and looked back at her. "You can't be serious?"

Fynta affected a somewhat believable pout, but for the mischievous glint in her dark blue eyes. "Why should they have all the fun?" Her smile grew as she leaned forward, putting her lips close to his ear to nip at the tip. "What do you say, should we show them how it's done?" Her hands slid lower and Jorgan shot to his feet, nearly tipping Fynta off the bed.

Cormac started making strangled demands and Jorgan began seriously considering whether or not his ears were necessary to do his job. Throwing an annoyed look at his wife, who found this far too amusing for his liking, the Cathar stalked into the refresher and started the shower. Maybe a long, hot soak would give the couple next door time to finish their-quality time. Not to mention the noise from the water should drown out all the other sounds. A trip to the cantina, or anywhere, would be preferable, but it was after curfew. Jorgan was stuck.

He'd just finished folding his pants on the counter when Fynta slipped into the bathroom. "Want some company?"

Jorgan turned to grumble some noncommittal answer and stopped short. Fynta had already removed the rest of her clothing and in that moment, the unwelcomed distraction from earlier was forgotten. "Definitely."

It didn't take long for Jorgan to press Fynta through the spray of water and into the cold tile behind. She gasped at the contrast between the heat from their bodies and the chill of the rest of the shower, arching into him. Jorgan rumbled his desire as he slipped his hands under her and lifted his wife, letting Fynta wrap her legs around his waist while his teeth grazed her skin. Jorgan's hand slipped off her slick skin once when Fynta leaned forward, forcing him to slam her backward to keep from dropping her.

That motion brought back the memory of the reason he was in this shower in the first place and the whispered name of his closest friend rang in Jorgan's ears. It was enough to kill the mood for the second time that night.

"Damn it," Jorgan griped, letting his wife's legs drop gently back to the floor.

"Can you still hear them?" Fynta asked, wiping water from her face, yet still managing a smile.

Jorgan sighed. "Some things can't be unheard."

Fynta chuckled and the two settled for enjoying each other's company, Jorgan carrying the conversation in an attempt to avoid thinking about the events in the next room. Finally, after a time that he deemed long enough for the other room to have quieted, and the hot water ran out, Jorgan shut off the faucet decided sleep sounded good enough.

As soon as Aric opened the refresher door, he regretted it. The sound of the squeaking mattress left little to the imagination. The grunts from the man had grown loud enough for even Fynta to hear through the too thin partitions, though Jorgan wasn't sure if she was aware Elara's ragged gasps.

Jorgan groaned as he crossed the room and began throwing items into his rucksack. Fynta stood behind him, starting at the wall where the noises originated, with hand on hips. "Wow, it's like after Tavis's ship all over again. You've got to give the man props for his stamina."

The Cathar growled again, Cormac's stamina was neither of their business.

Fynta returned her attention to Jorgan and tilted her head. "What are you doing?"

He was aware that Fynta had already removed her bra and put on PTs to sleep in, but it didn't matter. Mostly because he could tell that the two in the next room were reaching their limits and that was one thing Jorgan simply couldn't stand to be privy to.

Snatching up his bag, Jorgan grabbed Fynta's wrist as he headed for the door. "We're going to your room."

Elara choose that moment to cry out Balic's name and Jorgan shoved Fynta out into the hallway. "Right now."