Author's Note #1: First off, I'd like to give credit where credit is due. The image of Jagged attached to this story I found online by Googling "Star Wars, Jagged Fel," and has always been my favorite picture of him. I couldn't find an artists name attached to it...whoever it is, he or she did an incredible job with it.

Author's Note #2:It's been so, so long since I've written...or even read...anything Star Wars. I got so very frustrated by the author's of the current series of books and only got about halfway through the series. I may just have to go and get from the library though, I've been finding myself in need of a Jag fix.

As you'll read in my Author's note below, this is all based on a crazy experience that happened to my best friend and I. As I was, finally, driving that morning, the thought of all that happening to Jag, Zekk, and Kyp immediately came to mind, and I'm having a blast writing it.

Author's Note #3: So this story is actually based on a real life mis-adventure that Riathe Mai and I had a year or so ago. She was performing in a show that was being given at a local high, which I attended, and was incredible. Two hours later, the two of us decided to go out for a quick bite...deciding to take her car to save time...leaving mine parked in the lot.

Well...a "quick bite" turned into us closing the restaurant and being told by the waitstaff that we needed to leave. We drive back to school to get my van...and the gate is not only closed, but locked with a chain. And there in the lot...all alone...is my van, sitting under a spotlight. It's after 1am, and the two don't know whether to laugh or cry. After about 2hrs and walking back and forth from the road to school a couple of times, we finally found someone who could unlock the gate for us. Things are never dull when the two of us get together :-)

Granted, I've taken a few liberties with this story, and added a few things, cause it's always so much to play with the boys.

Once again, Big thanks go to Riathe Mai for all her awesome editing and advice. Standard disclaimer's apply.

xxXxx

The speeder came to an abrupt halt, stopping a hairsbreadth away from impact. The spike of alarm in the force barely gave the man sitting in the back enough time to brace before finding himself thrown onto the floor.

The person sitting in the passenger seat was not so lucky, and Kyp winced at the thud his head made as it came in contact with the dashboard.

"Durron!" Zekk yelled, his voice still somewhat muffled as he pulled himself up off the floor. "What the sith was that about !"

"Oh, this is not good," Kyp said slowly.

Jag pushed himself slowly back into a sitting position. His head was throbbing, but mercifully, the black spots that danced around the edges of his vision had receded. He leaned his head against the back of the seat, contemplating what his next move should be.

He didn't even want to open his eyes.

He really didn't.

He had spent enough time with Jedi to dread those five little words.

But having them come out of Kyp Durron's mouth always seemed to put a whole new spin on trouble…and always ended with him battered, bruised, and aching.

Maybe if he sat there long enough, and kept very still and very, very quiet, he could make himself appear invisible; the trouble that was undoubtedly waiting on the other side of the windscreen wouldn't see him and would pass him by.

He never would be that lucky.

He was beginning to think that the Force had cursed the three of them. It never failed that every time they were together, something always seemed to go wrong. Tonight, it seemed, was not going to be an exception.

"Ktah," Jag muttered, finally mustering the energy to tenderly probe his forehead, relieved to find that at least it didn't appear to be bleeding.

Kyp shut the engine down, then gave his friend a concerned look. "You still with us Jag?"

"Yeah. No thanks to you." Jag opened his eyes, startled momentarily to find Zekk leaning over the seat looking at him.

"That's gonna leave one hell of a bruise you know," he stated matter of factly.

Jag swatted Zekk's hand away from him, pushing him back into the rear of the speeder. "Thank you very much, Dr. Obvious."

Turning his attention towards Kyp, he quirked an eyebrow at him, ignoring the pain that rippled through his forehead in protest to the action. "Would you like to enlighten us as to why you just felt the need to almost kill us?"

Kyp gestured out the front of the speeder.

"Shavit"

"Kriff"

Getting out of the speeder, they stood staring at the parking structure in front of them.

Lights out.

Gate down.

Securely locked.

Despite the lack of illumination, they could make out Jag's speeder; still safe where they had left it, parked in an end space.

Inside.

On the sixth floor.

Zekk took a couple of steps forward. "Who on this rock closes for the night? This is Coruscant, for frippin' sake. The planet that never sleeps. Everything's always open."

He stopped suddenly, turning back towards Jag and Kyp. "Alright, no problem. We just leave your speeder here and you bunk with Kyp for the night."

"No," Jag shook his head. "That'll never work."

"Oh, come on. Kyp's not that bad," Zekk shot back. "If he snores too loud, just kick him."

"Hey!" The Jedi Master replied indignantly. "I do not snore."

"Yes you do," the two dark haired men replied in unison.

Turning and leaning on the side of the speeder, Jag looked at Zekk. "I thought you Jedi had good memories, or did your brain get scrambled during Master Durron's attempt at driving?"

"Hey! My driving is perfectly fine," Kyp huffed. " I was just….surprised is all. Besides," he looked across at Zekk with a mischievous smirk, "his brain is fine, Jag. He's just still thinking about the red headed dancer he met instead of the problem at hand."

"C'leste," Zekk replied dreamily, a huge grin on his face. "And what do you mean problem?" He shook his head to clear it. "Its easy, like I said you-"

"Zekk. No," Jag shook his head, addressing his friend as if talking to a young child. "I'm not leaving my speeder here."

Zekk ran his hand through his long dark hair, pushing back wayward strands that had fallen out of the tie when he had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor of the speeder's back seat. He looked back up the side of the parking structure, easily spying Jag's vehicle.

His brand new, sleek, shiny, black speeder.

His custom-made-to-his-own-specifications, modified-and-updated-by-him-and-Jaina-themselves, brand new, sleek, shiny, black speeder.

If it was his, he wouldn't want it left here to be impounded, vandalized or worse, either. So yeah, Zekk understood Jag's sound, if not stubborn, reasoning.

"Okay," Zekk started slowly, glancing around the street corner, "we can figure this out."

Even at this late, or actually early—depending on how you looked at things—hour, the streets were still busy. Beings in various states of sobriety stumbled from one neon lit establishment to the other, each one promising more excitement and adventure than the next.

The three men got together, for "boy's night out" as Jaina and Liz referred to it, as often as time and schedules permitted. Between flight training, patrols, Jedi missions and private lives, that didn't happen very often.

Sometimes it was something as simple as a game of sabaac, a challenge in the sims, or a no holds barred game of smashball. Tonight they had spent the evening at various clubs and bars, enjoying the anonymity the lower levels of Coruscant offered.

That they were friends at all, close friends at that, was a testament unto itself. Their initial meetings with each other had been strained, tense, and often volatile. Over the years, though, they had put differences and jealousies aside and had developed a bond as close as brothers.

"Alright." Zekk stepped forward, putting a hand on the top of the gate and jiggling it a bit. "It looks like just a simple pin holding the gate closed. We pull the pin, open the gate, get Jag's speeder and then close the gate. Simple."

"Wait a minute." Jag put his hand on Zekk's arm, stopping him. "What about security?"

"What about them?" Zekk said curiously. "We're not doing anything illegal. It's your speeder."

"That's true. But last time I checked, breaking and entering was."

Both men looked at Kyp.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'What'.? I say we just go in and get it. Mister I-play-by-the-rules-spoilsport over there," Zekk waved his thumb in Jag's direction, "says no."

"Oh, sure. Now you want my opinion," Kyp said sarcastically, leaning up against the speeder with his arms crossed in front of his chest and legs crossed at the ankles. "I believe I'm the one who said we shouldn't leave it here to begin with. But did you listen to me? No."

"Quit your whining, Durron."

Pushing himself back to a standing position, the Jedi Master was just about to render his judgment when Jag interrupted him.

"Kyp, before you give your deciding vote, let me present my case in a different light."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jag saw Zekk roll his eyes, his silent 'here we go again' written all over his face.

There was something in his tone of voice that made Kyp cringe, and combined with the slow smile that spread across Jag's face as he began speaking, Kyp knew that he wouldn't like what was about to be said.

"If, on the off chance, we are detained by security, who would it be that you would comm to come and get you?" Jag crossed his own arms across his chest, his right eyebrow raised in question.

Kyp grimaced. He didn't even have to voice a response. They all already knew the answer to that question.

Liz.

His beautiful, spirited, fiery, Liz. The love of his life. The only person who could actually make Jedi Master Kyp Durron squirm with just a look.