Disclaimer: I own nowt here. I promise.

It Wasn't Her Fault, and She Was Sure Of It

She could be playful. Occasionally. When she was by herself. And for some unknown reason, she decided to be right then.

Well, not an unknown reason at all, to be honest. But it wasn't her fault, and she was sure of it.

Hence the bed sheet over her head and shoulders. She was being a Jedi. Strictly speaking, she was being a Jedi Master.

She decided to talk to her bunk, as if to herself. It was as good a place as any. She was getting used to Skywalker standing there, all earnestness and caring, lecturing her as she woke. Early in the morning.

On her ship, dammit. She hated that.

He was naturally such a morning person. Which was unnatural. She could wake in the morning, if she had to, and had done so countless times in the past, from deep sleep to a state of total awareness in a split second. But she didn't like it. Not one little bit.

So she decided to give her pillow a darn good lecture in the style of a certain person.

She nodded her head firmly and spoke.

"Never mind that I am the only Jedi master in the universe and that therefore you have no-one to measure my skills against. I might be terrible at my job, but I am the master, and you are the student. Therefore, I am better than you. And always right. I shall, in my benevolence, pass on my vast wisdom to you. But only if you behave yourself. No more of this toing and froing from real life. Your own existence must be as dedicated and barren as mine. A true Jedi needs no friends, jobs, relationships, property, or any other worthless, material things. If you choose this righteous path, there will be no fun for you ever again."

She came to a halt and cringed.

She had been so caught up in her impromptu (albeit quite poor, she would - some years later - admit) impression of Skywalker that she hadn't even heard the door as it slid open. An unforgivable oversight. Or perhaps it would have been, in another lifetime. Maybe not now.

Now it was just plain old embarrassing.

She ignored him, holding her head high, sweeping the sheet from herself and folding it awkwardly. A motion that might have been slightly more convincing and determined had she not had to spend at least 5 seconds untangling said sheet from her braid.

She placed it on her bunk with an irritated sigh and did not look towards the doorway.

"How long have you been standing there, farmboy?"

"Long enough." She tried to feel what his reaction was, but he was giving nothing away. Damn him.

She turned, catching his somewhat shuttered gaze. "Meaning?"

He shrugged. "For pretty much all of it."

She sighed. Again. She seemed to do that a lot in his company.

It was very likely time for an apology, of sorts. "I didn't mean that, you know."

He looked doubtful. "But some of it was right," he said softly.

"No it wasn't. I was...upset. Angry. It's just that," she pointed emphatically towards the front of the ship, "that wasn't my fault! I'm sure of it!"

He grinned somewhat sheepishly. "I know it wasn't. That's why I came. To apologise. I may have...pressed a couple of buttons?" He finished quietly, leaving that particular statement hanging. Awaiting the inevitable.

For a couple of seconds, she could only gape in horror. Then her lips started to work soundlessly until she could start to speak. Well, shout.

"What, Skywalker? You did what? You did precisely what I asked you not to? This is my ship, my home, and you..."

"I was wrong, and I'm sorry!" he interrupted, fiercely. She stopped for a moment, and he ventured, "Mara, I was curious."

She took a few deep breaths, trying to gather herself. After all, this was a ridiculously long journey, and smiting the only known living Jedi Master may not go down well with some people. Though, right at this moment, she was sorely tempted. "It's an easy fix, right?"

He nodded, contritely. "With your command codes."

More deep breathing. Then she nodded back. "Good. Well, I am now making up a saying for use on this journey. Let's call it a rule, shall we? Curiosity kills the Jedi Master's only remaining natural hand. Am I clear?"

He was relieved. At least she wasn't threatening him with the airlock. Like she had yesterday. And the day before that. "Crystal."

"Great." She sighed. Again. She was so tired."Son of a Sith, this is a long journey isn't it?"

"Well...uh, yes?"

She winced. "Sorry. That wasn't meant literally."

"I know, it's OK," he simply said.

It was her turn to shrug. "Thanks."

"It's alright." He paused for a second, trying to suppress a little misplaced mirth. "By the way, you're wrong, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes?"

He grinned. "Not only am I clearly not always right, but we do need friends."

She did not try to avoid sounding utterly sceptical. "We, huh?"

He glanced downwards and reached forward to gently cradle her right hand.

"Well, I do. Nobody tells me the truth as you do, Mara." He looked up and unexpectedly, she found herself completely trapped by his gaze. His eyes were suddenly too, too blue and his care hit her in waves. She was, for a moment, frozen.

It was very quickly all getting too emotional. Too serious. And she decided that it was high time she left this now far too claustrophobic room. She pulled her hand away from his and started to move towards the doorway.

"You wanna know the truth, farmboy? The rations you insisted you brought on board for this mission suck. They can drive a girl to madness, it would seem. Makes them think they're Jedi Masters, for kriff's sake." She slapped him, none too gently, on the shoulder as she passed him by. "You might want to look at that."

He couldn't help but smile as he listened to her footsteps fade on the metal decking as she moved off towards the bridge. Then he realised that there was work to be done and something he should say. Something perfect. He moved out of the room and headed in her direction.

"Hang on a minute," he called after her. "I'll come with you."