CH. 4, hurrah! The afore-mentioned bonus material will be dealt with at the end of this chapter. Thank you for reading and enjoy. Also, I do not apologize for the clichéd waitress droid because I think she's funny.

Disclaimer: See CH.1

Two Months Ago:

Borkus was in a good mood and he was sober (soberish). It was enough to make Gregor nervous (more nervous than usual). The boss had come in an hour after sun down and bought sliders and jawa juice for the house. He had even magnanimously offered to prepare the sandwiches himself. The droid server, 021B, had been run so ragged handing out plate after plate of food to the suddenly packed house (word of generosity and/or suckers spread faster than salt dust in Pons Ora) her hip servos were starting to spark.

Gregor knelt next to poor shaking, smoking TooBe, who had collapsed onto one of the counter stools after the crowds finally realized that they had to pay for the second round and headed out. He poked at her hip socket with a power spanner. She burbled unhappily to herself.

"Has this been bad for long TooBe?" He asked.

"Oh, days hun. I thought that I could just head over to Banda's for that discount oil dip but I was wrong, honey. Don't cheap out on yourself, you'll regret it."

Gregor nodded. TooBe carried on her one sided conversation about joints and salt corrosion as he worked. It was almost soothing listening to her scratchy, tinny voice. He realized she'd asked him a question.

"Hmm?"

"I said where's that girl? She said she'd be here by ten to take over."

"What time is it now?"

"Ten thirty honey. I wonder where she's got to? It's not like her to be flakey, especially after I did her this favor and said I'd cover the first half of her shift."

"What?"

If TooBe could raise her eyebrows she would have. Gregor didn't much like be looked at condescendingly by a droid but he gritted his teeth and waited her out. TooBe couldn't stay quiet for more than a minute anyway. She beeped loudly after less than fifteen seconds and carried on.

"She was supposed to be on from seven to sunrise but she came to me today, this morning, just before Zenith, and she asked me to cover for her until ten. Said she had something to do."

Gregor frowned, though he wasn't sure why. TooBe was right, it wasn't like Thena to skip work. Quite the opposite really. She tended to jump on double shifts, sometimes triple. He squeezed the oil canister he was holding to TooBe's hip a little too hard; lost in thought. She trilled.

"Ooo, careful honey. Oh, oh wait, never mind. Mmmm, you can do that again if you like."

Gregor guessed that she hadn't been kidding about the cheap oil. After another few seconds of fiddling with her hip Gregor screwed his courage up and asked TooBe the question that had been bothering him for the past five minutes. He tried to sound disinterested, if the droid worked out that he wanted information she would never shut up.

"What did she have to do, Thena I mean?"

"Didn't say. If you ask me though I bet it's a date. She's been acting funny for days now. I bet he's rich too, she's always going on about how she needs more money."

Gregor's throat went tight. But, he reasoned it was really none of his business. He concentrated on TooBe's chassis giving it one more quick adjustment with the spanner. He stood up, wiping his hands on a bit of rag.

"I think that's probably enough. Does the joint feel better TooBe?"

"Mmm, yes it does hun. Much better. You have got the touch."

Gregor was a bit at a loss as to how to respond to that but TooBe spared him the embarrassment by leaping off the stool (her hip must be feeling better for her to be that spry) and all calling out in her best short-order voice.

"Thena Koura, you chag. I hope he was worth it honey because you owe me after tonight."

Gregor felt like someone had prodded him with an electro-spanner as he glanced up. He'd seen Thena out of the hideous uniform Borkus made her wear before but she looked different; short skirt, shorter even than the one she wore at work, black blouse, not tight but perfectly cut for her body. Her skin looked smoother, paler and oddly shiny. Was she wearing makeup? Gregor thought so, her lips were redder and her eyes looked even bigger than usual. Where had she gone looking like that, and who with? He felt an odd twinge in the back of his head; the world went a bit yellow-green for a moment and an unpleasant warmth crept up his hands. Then Borkus appeared from the back.

"Ah, Thena, Thena, Thena my girl. You look lovely eh? Lovely."

He wandered over to her mostly steadily (so much for sober); arms outstretched like a beloved uncle at a family gathering who wants a hug. Thena was standing frozen with a slightly panicked look on her face. Gregor took an involuntary step toward her, she glanced at him but didn't move. Borkus tottered up and got his hug (he hugged her anyway, she mostly stood board-stiff and seemed to be holding her breath). When he disengaged Borkus patted her cheek hard enough for her to flinch.

"You're a good girl, a good girl. Why don't you take tonight off, busy, busy tomorrow, eh?"

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm fine to work tonight. And I thought I was closing. And shouldn't you be home?"

Borkus's smile turned ugly.

"Oh, oh you tell me what to do in my place? I'm doing you a favor, letting you work here. Half a dozen girls I could get to replace you."

Thena stood her ground.

"Not tonight you can't."

Borkus snorted, then started to laugh his usual, repugnant laugh.

"Yeah, yeah but maybe tomorrow I do and then you'd have to do more for Beerkin than just dance."

She narrowed her eyes.

"But if you do fire me you won't get your cut will you?"

Borkus opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, then opened it again like some loathsome amphibian casting for insects. He never did find the words he wanted. Instead he threw his hands up and snarled, shoved by Thena, and vanished out the door into the night.

The silence in the diner after he left lasted more almost a minute. It was probably some kind of record for TooBe. Finally, when Gregor realized that they must all look ridiculous standing there staring at eachother like brained grox, TooBe gives an impressed trill.

"Honey you have got some circuits standing up to the boss like that. You watch that mouth or he will fire you. I've seen it before."

Thena gives her a rueful sideways look.

"Thanks TooBe but he won't. I'm worth twice as much to him now."

"What's that mean hun?"

"I'm working over at Beerkin's too, starting tomorrow. Borkus gets a cut of my wages, it's like a finder's fee or something. He fires me Beerkin won't give him a brass obol."

TooBe trilled again.

"So that's where you were! You be careful about taking that job girl, I hear bad things."

Thena glared at the droid. TooBe raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Okay honey, whatever you say. I'm done for tonight. I'll see you later."

She marched out the door without so much as a wobble from her bad hip.

Gregor didn't know what to say once she was gone. The diner was empty and it was going to be several hours before the pre-dawn crowd stopped in with late night munchies. Thena glanced down at her feet, up at the wall behind his head and then down again. She started to pull at the hem of her skirt and stopped.

"Well, " her voice was breathy and odd sounding, like she was trying to be lighthearted.

"I'm going to get changed. Hold the fort for me okay?"

"Yes ma'am."

It was out of his mouth before he thinks about it, clipped and strong. Thena cocked her head and pulled her eyebrows together as she looked him over. She didn't say anything though as she walked past him to the back; brushing his arm accidentally as she passed. She smelled like stale smoke.

The rest of the night passed quickly. They got more customers than usual, people sniffing around in vain hope of more hand outs mainly, but some of them stayed for a bite to eat or a mug of something warm. It probably helped that Thena smiled about a four times as much as usual. Between that and the makeup she looked pretty damn good, Gregor had to admit, as he watched her cajole a hesitant Bim into another cup of tea. But there was something off about her. He couldn't name it for a long time but then it came to him. She was being too chipper, too happy. Nobody else noticed because they didn't know her but he saw her smiles and realized that they were as false as her poreless skin and red lips.

He wanted to ask her about it, ask her why TooBe was so concerned about this new job at Beerkin's, ask her what Borkus meant when he prodded her about dancing but the steady flow of customers kept him in the back until well after closing time.

He propped the kitchen door open as he finished the last of the dishes, watching Thena count out the register as he did. She wasn't smiling anymore. It was hard for him to tell under the layer of pigment on her skin but he thought she looked flushed.

"Kriff."

He nearly dropped the cup he was drying when she swore. He found himself out of the kitchen and beside her before he realized he'd moved.

"What, what's the matter?"

She startled, clearly not expecting him to be so close.

"Make some noise will you?"

She sighed and reached up to untie her hair before she ran her fingers along her scalp. He caught another whiff of stale smoke and wrinkled his nose slightly. She didn't notice, was too busy pulling the hair back up into a messy tail. Gregor watched every movement of her hands through it but found that he wasn't as distracted as usual by her hair.

"I lost count. Stupid till."

"Are you okay Thena?"

"Hmm?"

She was carefully counting the money again.

"Are you okay? You're acting, well...weird."

She didn't answer him for a long time as she sorted through the bills and coins then marked each denomination into the count sheet before locking the till box and sliding it into the safe under the counter. She turned around to lean against it, fingers wrapped tight around the flaking surface.

"I took a job at Beerkin's. That's where I was tonight."

"Yeah, you told TooBe. I heard."

She dropped her chin and looked up at him, pursing her lips into a line.

"It's not a waitressing job Gregor."

He didn't follow for a moment. Then he did. The makeup, the clothes, the smell on her; he got it now. So that's what Borkus had meant. It made him feel a little lightheaded to realize it.

"Oh."

She sighed.

"It's just dancing. Just a couple of nights a week. I don't even take off my clothes, well, I don't take off most of them. That's for the twi'leks and the...you know the pretty girls."

"I think you're pretty."

It was out of his mouth before his brain registered what he was going to say. She grimaced.

"Thanks...thank you Gregor, um...look is there anything else you need to do in back becuase I want to leave. It's been kind of a long night."

"I haven't mopped."

She sighed again, dramatically, and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling.

"Gregor, Borkus wouldn't notice you didn't mop the floor ever again. Come on. Let's go."

Gregor didn't know what to say to that so he nodded.

"I'll get my coat."

"Good man."

She followed him into the back, waiting while he pulled the kitchen door shut. She hadn't bother to change out of her uniform he noticed as he pulled his patched jacket on. She stood shifting from foot to foot clutching the bundle of her clothes, her audition clothes he thought with some distaste, in front of her.

"All good?" she asked in the false cheerful voice she'd been using all night as he finished buttoning up.

He stopped, hand on the lights and looked down at her. She was standing very close to him, a third of a meter away, maybe less. She was looking down, he could see the stark white of her scalp through the part in her hair. The smell of smoke was fainter but still enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Thena."

She didn't look at him. He waited for a minute or more.

"Thena."

Her head shot up so fast she nearly hit him in the chin. She was wearing an awful fake smile as she looked at him. Normally he'd glance away rather than hold eye contact but he was too unbalanced by what he'd found out tonight, by how the knowledge was effecting him, to remember to be uncomfortable. He looked down at her until the smile wavered, then wavered a little more, then vanished altogether.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded slowly before answering.

"Yes. I am. It's, it's a little rough there but I'll be fine."

"Rough?"

She shrugged.

"I mean there's security and stuff so it shouldn't be a problem."

"Security?"

"Yeah, you know, big guys who tell the drunks to keep their hands to themselves. And could you stop just repeating what I say already?"

He ignored her waspish tone.

"Who does that, provides security?"

"I don't know, some Aqualish guy. He's a scary mother so he's probably good at the job."

"Just him?"

She shrugged again.

"I think there's a few others but I didn't see them. Beerkin mentioned that there was security but it was sometimes shorthanded."

Gregor ground his teeth. She wasn't taking this seriously at all. He'd gotten into it a couple of times with drunks who grabbed at her when she was fully dressed waiting tables. He could only imagine how much worse they'd be if she were dancing. Something went off in his head. He looked at her again.

"What's it take to be on this security detail?"

"I don't know, being big and scary?"

"How about just big?"

"What are you talking about Gregor, are you going to go be a bouncer?"

"Well, I could use the extra money and if an Aqualish can do it..." She laughed a little, as he'd meant her too. He felt a little proud of himself.

"I don't know Gregor. It's not like here."

"I could do it, maybe only a few nights a week. When you're there."

His voice sounded strained when he said that, higher than it should have been. She was giving him an assessing look and seemed about to say something else. Instead she turned and opened the outside door, giving him no choice but to shut off the lights and follow her out.

She fumbled with the keys for several seconds in the dawn half-light. He watched her, hands buried in his pockets to hide them from the morning chill. A salt-crane barked overhead and he looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the bird. When he looked back Thena had finished with the lock and was standing closer to him than she had been inside; almost touching. She was looking up too, not for the bird, at him, with a ferociously serious face. He opened his mouth to say something but her hands were on his jacket pulling him down toward her the instant before her mouth pressed against his.

It wasn't a good kiss. It wasn't anything like those lurid holonet dramas that TooBe likes to put on the flickering diner vid screens during the late afternoon (for ambiance honey, people love this stuff). Gregor knew prefectly well from those programs that he was supposed to make the first move and it was supposed to be in some romantic spot with maybe a waterfall or a sunset or something. There was a sunrise at the moment but neither of them could see it in the dank alley with the overflowing trash pile. He was also supposed to be suave and know what he was doing, be assertive and passionate but not too needy, kind of cool and aloof.

At first he stood like a statue, then he fumbled like a drunk then he just gave up on suave and cool and kissed the woman in front of him as best he could (which pretty much meant following her lead because, really, even though he wanted this, he had not one clue what he was doing).

She didn't seem to mind and he would have been grateful if his brain had been working properly. She let him flail a bit before she showed him what to do with his tongue, how to push in with his lips and withdraw so the other person followed you back, when to use teeth and when to just angle your face opposite the other person's and work your mouth against theirs. It took awhile for them to even out the kinks in technique but Gregor hardly minded, though his pants started to get uncomfortable the more she wriggled up against him.

He pulled back first (cool, suave, well done) and stared down at her, trying not to pant into her face (which would have been neither suave nor cool). She gave him that bent little smile and he was lost again, had to kiss her again, (he was proud of being more assertive this time). She stopped him after a few seconds by running her hand up his chest, between the unbuttoned halves of his jacket (when had that been unfastened?) Her voice is low and breathy, like she had been running. He was stupidly pleased that she seemed almost as wrecked as he felt.

"I...I think your place is closer and...and uh...less crowded."

He blinked, not quite following, thinking that this couldn't be right; that he couldn't be doing this for several seconds. His head might not have been entirely on board but his body made up for it. He felt himself smile (attractively he hoped, or at least not like a gormless child offered candy) and nod even as his common sense tried to put the brakes on the situation. His libido and some animal instinct ganged up on his higher thought process and chased it into a far corner of his brain where it couldn't cause trouble.

She smiled again, wider, lopsidedly lovely (especially now that the false color had rubbed off her lips) and took his hand. He didn't even think it was odd that she knew exactly where they were going.

Bonus Material: It's a bit of a choose-your-own-adventure now. You can a.) read to the end of this chapter (which I'm presuming you've done since you're down here) and be just fine for the next one. OR... You may b.) Head over to my AO3 area (link in my profile) and enjoy some...extras.

WARNING FOR BONUS MATERIAL: It's a "love" scene and by that I mean sex. It's my first attempt at one of these, so be gentle (I'm sorry that was corny. I couldn't resist).

But seriously, you are warned: the bonus is for adults.

CH5: We meet Beerkin. Gregor remembers more about his inner commando and unpleasant things happen to everyone (especially Borkus).