Novelty

Set after Episode 14, Season 1

"General, do you have a minute?"

The object of his inquiry lifted her gaze from examining a datapad. "You need not be so formal when we're alone, Bly," she admonished with a smile. "How many times must I tell you that 'Aayla' is fine?"

"As many as you can voice, General," he didn't dare call her by name lest he slip up under more formal circumstances. She was General Aayla Secura; Jedi Knight. To call her by her first name, even when given permission, was unthinkable.

Her exasperation at his response was charming - though he did try not to notice. "Bly-"

"You may have to make it an order, sir." Focusing at what had brought him to her side, for he tried to spend as little time as possible in her company; she made him feel… odd inside, Bly frowned at her. "I wished to speak with you about what occurred with the Lurman."

"With the Lurman," she cocked her head, her smile fading. "We were on their planet for several days, Bly; I am afraid you must be more specific."

"Specifically when we Captain Rex and I were on recon, General."

"You mean when the Separatists nearly killed you when you tripped?" she looked back to her datapad with what he could only classify as a coy smile; he'd seen it before. "No need to thank me; my command would be diminished for your absence."

"Thank you, sir?" He frowned, deliberately ignoring the compliment and the way it suffused him with pleasure. Tightening his grip on his bucket, Bly pinned her with a hard look. "I wasn't trying to thank you, sir."

"No?" She looked back his way again, surprised. "That would be the correct thing to do under the circumstance. I did save your life."

"Yes sir, but you endangered your own in the process. I'd like to know what you were thinking, risking yourself like that," he stepped closer, "I don't want to seem ungrateful-"

"You are."

"-but you should never have saved me," he had her full attention now and continued as she crossed her arms over her chest, deliberately keeping his gaze on hers and not the expanse of toned flesh that was always on display. "Your actions risked the mission, Commander Tano's safety and General Skywalker's recovery."

"Bly-"

"If the cost of my mistake had been either of their lives-"

"Bly."

"-or your own, it would have been unforgivable. You should have left me to- urk!"

He was cut off as she pushed him back into a wall, a pair of soft, pliant - yet insistent - lips making it impossible for him to talk as they pressed against his own. Shocked, astonished, his eyes closed unbidden as his General silenced him in a most unorthodox way.

She tastes of rain.

The thought rose unexpectedly as she curled one hand around his neck, as if trying to ensure he wouldn't pull away, but Bly's thought process had been derailed.

His hands rose, his bucket hitting the ground unheard as he slid his fingers up the taught flesh of her back, pulling her closer against the hard shell of his armor. One hand snaked upwards to mimic her position on the back of his neck, tilting his head so he could kiss her more fully.

Her lips opened, and Bly echoed the move, only to jerk away when he felt the tip of her tongue against his lower lip.

Breaking the kiss, he was saved from knocking himself on the wall as her hand took the brunt of the impact and his eyes flew open. He observed her, wide-eyed, in that single glance. The moistness of her lips, wet from his own; the flush on every inch of skin he could see; the heaving of her chest, pressed tightly against his breast plate - all things he'd never seen before. All experiences he'd never dared to dream if they were ever considered.

The Gen…

Master Sec…

Jedi Aayla…

Fek; what do I call her now?

Her breathing was a touch erratic as she looked at him, pupils dilated, her fingers curling against his scalp and scraping against his skin. "You look very lost, Bly," her voice was husky, sliding down his spine. "Did you not enjoy it?"

If he answered honestly, he was breaking fraternization regs. He stiffened. "This is highly inappropriate, Gen-"

"Aayla, Bly," her lips curved. "After such a kiss as that, to have you call me 'General' would be criminal."

"Sir, I don't-"

"Sir?"

"Jedi-"

"Aayla," she stressed, her fingers digging into the short hair on his head, her nails scraping his scalp in a way that made him shudder with pleasure. "I will make it an order."

He swallowed hard. "We're breaking regs," he decided to go without a title; did he really need to address by anything when she was pressed against his armor and he was looking straight into her eyes? "We can't do this."

Her low, husky laugh almost made him groan; it was not the response he was expecting. "Ah, Bly. Sometimes I forget under that stern, adult exterior, how simple your thought process can be."

His eyebrows drew down in confusion as his eyes narrowed on her. "Excuse me?"

"It is not a bad thing. It is simply that you are saying one thing here," she leaned in, brushing her lips across his and not pulling away as his grip on her tightened again, "and you hold me as if you are to never let me go."

Caught, embarrassed, Bly still found he couldn't release his grip on her. Now that his arms were full of willing blue Twi'lek named Aayla, he found he didn't want them otherwise. Letting her go seemed counter intuitive even as every regulation he'd ever read, ever seen, ever had flash trained into him was screaming that he needed to release her and take a step back... which would have been impossible with the wall at his back.

"Well, Commander," her tone was teasing. "Which is it?"

"I-" staring at her, Bly considered his option as she watched him with that infinite Jedi patience and calm. She let him process the event and, once he had, readjusted his grip on her but said nothing. Did noting. He didn't know what came next only that he liked the feel of her in his arms and the press of her lips against his own.

"I see; then we are at an impasse."

"Only if you don't tell me, or show me, what comes next."

Aayla laughed. "Normally what follows is not in such a public setting."

Excellent. He was eager to have her alone anyway. "Your quarters or mine, Gen-," he paused, cutting himself off and then his lips curved into a mimicry of her smile, but with a soft edge. "Your quarters or mine, Aayla."

She looked startled for a moment, as if she'd not expected the question, and then pleased. "Mine. We shall have more privacy."

"Is that important?"

"For what I have in mind for you, Commander," she stretched to tip toe, her lips drawing near his again, "it will be essential."

He liked the sound of that.

fin