This week I bought and read 'Jango Fett and the Razor Eaters' along with 'The Shape-shifter Strikes'. And yeah, they're below my reading level but I still enjoyed them. There really isn't enough Zam/Jango reading material out there. There was also a little moment between the two that made me fan-girl. And Jango paid Zam some-almost-complements- stuff that would go over kid's heads. But read them if you like Zam and Jango.

Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.
- Finley Peter Dunne

Boba stood in the doorway of his Father's room, breakfast in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face. Jango was lying on the bed, face buried in pillows. The day had started out like any other but had very quickly turned into one that was less than normal. Boba had just finished getting dressed and was about to get himself some breakfast when his Dad had mumbled something about having an absolute splitting headache. Then Jango had gone to his room and everything had gotten quiet. Once Boba had finished making breakfast he had decided to check on his Dad. That had led to the current situation and Boba was slightly worried. Usually his Father was up and about by this time of the morning. He had a group of one hundred ARC's that he trained daily. Boba knew that if his Dad was still in bed, he must really be sick. And if that was the case then maybe the presence of another adult was required.

"Should I call Zam?" Boba wondered aloud.

"No. You should not call Zam," Jango growled peevishly. He had come to life with remarkable speed for someone who supposedly had a headache of gargantuan proportions. "That woman doesn't need to be made privy to every catastrophe that befalls this household," That said Jango buried his face in the pillows once more. He had never been more appreciative of the Kaminoan's soundproof architecture. He didn't even want to think about how much worse his headache would be if he had to listen to the constant thunder. And he had black-out curtains at the windows to shut out the lightning-which was another plus.

Boba continued eating while making a mental note of the fact that his father having a migraine was regarded as a small scale calamity. He turned and headed for the living room. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have gone against his Father's wishes but Jango obviously needed some help. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Zam was a friend and the only person Boba trusted besides his Father. So it made sense to call her. Boba hoped he wouldn't be interrupting anything too important. He found the comm and keyed in Zam's comm code. There was a click and some crackling sounds. Then she answered.

"Hello?"

Boba cleared his throat. "Hi, Zam."

"Hey, Boba," She answered. He could hear the smile in her voice. "What's up?"

Boba lowered his voice slightly. He didn't want Jango to overhear. "I kind of need your help, Zam."

"What's wrong, Boba?" Her tone was serious. "Are you okay?"

Boba nodded before realizing that Zam couldn't see him. "Yeah, I'm alright. It's Dad. He's sick or something."

"Sick?" Zam echoed in surprise. "I've never known your Dad to get sick in all the years I've known him. But then, he is only human-even if he likes to pretend that he's not, "She gave a short chuckle before sobering."Anyway, back to the matter at hand. What's wrong with him? Does he have a fever?"

Boba sat down on the couch and got comfortable. "I don't think so. He said he has a headache and he's lying in his room with a pillow over his head. I've never seen him act like this before. "

Zam was silent for a moment." Are there any painkillers in the apartment?"

Boba sighed. "No, we ran out last week."

"That just figures," Zam replied. "Okay, I'll drop by-bring something."

Boba breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Zam. I'll see you in a bit."

"No problem, Boba," She answered.

Boba clicked off the comm and sat for a moment. Now he just had to go tell his Father.

Jango was still buried in pillows when Boba opened the door. He thought for a moment that his Dad had fallen asleep. But then Jango lifted one of the cushions from his face and peered at him.

"What is it?"

There was a moment's hesitation but Boba knew there was no getting around it. "I called Zam," He blurted out. Then he proceeded to make as quick an exit as he possibly could.

The cushion was dropped back in to place. If Jango hadn't been feeling so absolutely wretched he might have considered chasing the kid down. All he wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask?

Jango closed his eyes for what seemed like only a moment but when he finally opened them the pillow was gone and Zam was looming over him in all her shape-shifting glory. He realized that he must have fallen asleep.

She squinted at him with a critical eye,"How are you feeling?"

He managed to raise his head a few centimeters. "Zam, go home," He made a valiant attempt to be threatening. "I told Boba he wasn't to call you."

Zam straightened up and folded her arms across her chest. "Your son called me because he was worried about you."

"I'm perfectly fine," Jango fell back into the bed and winced in pain.

Zam raised an eyebrow. "Clearly."

A second later Boba cautiously poked his head in the room. "Dad, she's a grown up. She'll know how to help you better that I would."

Jango didn't even bother trying to be agreeable. "The grownup part is debatable," He grumbled.

Zam shot him a withering look. "Really, Jango? That's the best you can do?"

Jango squinted at her. "Changed your mind about leaving yet?" He asked, a slightly hopeful note in his voice.

Zam frowned. "What kind of friend would I be if I did that?"

Jango grabbed a cushion tossed it in her direction. "The kind that respects the wishes of others."

Zam rolled her eyes and headed for the door, plainly ignoring his previous statement. "I'm going to get you something for your headache."

Jango shut his eyes again. "Doesn't anyone around here listen to me anymore?" He muttered." He wasn't surprised in the least when Zam heard him and answered.

"You've lost your authority in your own house. Crying shame isn't it?" She called, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Jango tried desperately to remember why exactly it was that he'd put up with Zam Wesell for so many years. Nothing came to mind. The problem was that Zam wasn't afraid of him. She never had been. When they'd first met she'd held him at blaster point-he had obligingly returned the favor of course. Then she'd attached herself to him like glue-okay, they'd partnered out of convenience. He'd had the ride and she had the bounty.

Zam had spent the rest of the hunt dishing out equal parts attitude and lip. Jango had spent the rest of the hunt wishing that he'd left her on that forsaken rock of a prison. Even when he'd threatened her she hadn't been fazed. She just plied him with questions about his next job and managed to be maddeningly accurate in her guesses. But when all was said and done she had saved his life.

There was one reason at least.

He heard Zam walk back into the room but he didn't bother to move a muscle. She prodded him in the shoulder with one finger. "Here, take this." She held up a small white tablet.

Jango cracked an eye at her. "What is it?"

She glanced down at the pill. "It's a painkiller, extra strength."

Grudgingly, Jango sat up and took the pill and glass of water that were being offered to him. Once the glass had been drained he shoved it back into Zam's hand and dropped back onto the bed. "There, your job is done. Now you can go home, Zam."

She shook her head, picked up the cushion from the floor and handed it back to him. "I'm going to go keep Boba company. I'll be back in a little while to check on you," She walked out and the door closed.

Really, why did he put up with her?

Sometime later Jango was comfortably hovering in a drowsy, half asleep state. He wasn't sure when exactly the painkiller had kicked in but it had definitely done its job. The headache was gone and he felt good, insanely sleepy, but good. He was going to have to thank Zam-in a roundabout way of course. He'd never hear the end of it if he admitted she was right.

Jango could hear the low hum of voices coming from the living room. Boba was never quiet around Zam. He was happy talking her ear off and she seemed just as happy to let him.

Jango just drifting off when he heard the bedroom door open. Zam had said she would be back in a bit hadn't she? He'd forgotten. He blamed it on the medication.

He felt a blanket being draped over him and tucked in. After that the room was silent for a few seconds and he thought she had left. But then he felt her lips on his cheek and her cool fingers brushed lightly against his jaw.

"Sleep well, Jango," She whispered.

Well, there was another reason.

Ah, but the question is whether or not Jango will remember the kiss when he wakes up. And if he does, will he brush it off as just a dream?

Also I imagine the conversations between Boba and Zam to something like this:

Zam: "At least you know when to ask for help-unlike your Father."

Boba: "Yeah, he really does like to do things on his own."

Zam: "I pretend to be human, he pretends like he's not. You see how this is working?"

Boba: "Well, they do say that opposites attract."

Zam: "Now's not really the time, Boba."

Boba: "Sorry.I thought that's how it was 'working'."

Zam: "Anyway… Who else would be able to drop by and help you and your Dad?"

Boba: "Taun We?"

Zam: "Well it wouldn't be out of concern, that's for sure."

Boba: "Count Dooku?

Zam: I'd pay big money to see that man play nurse. No-no I wouldn't. That's creepy to think about."

Boba: "Aurra Sing?

Zam: "She'd just put you out if your misery."

Boba: "Looks like we're stuck with you, Zam."

Zam: "Better get used to it."