Andronikos was right, K'isha thought, the cantina was a perfect place to blend in. Smugglers of different species were scattered throughout the room, all trying to maintain a low profile. K'isha drew her hood up to hide her face, her white skin and red eyes stood out even among this variety of species. She figured in this area of Alderaan, it would be safer to be taken as an unknown, or even a Jedi, than a Sith. Andronikos guided her to some quiet seats at the bar, close to wall so they couldn't be snuck up on. As she discretely surveyed the other patrons, she'd noticed Andronikos signal the bartender to come over. She couldn't hear his request, and was surprised when the bartender set down two glasses on bright green liquid. K'isha gave them a dubious glance.
"What is this?" she raised her glass to her nose and sniffed. The acrid fumes made her eyes water, and Andronikos chuckled as she screwed up her face.
"Not something you sip, Sith," he took his glass and downed it with one swallow, then nodded at her glass, indicating it was her turn. She mimicked his swift movement, then turned her head quickly as she stifled a cough with her hand. She turned back to glare accusingly at the pirate sitting next to her.
"You knew that would happen," she was shocked that her voice came out more as a wheeze. Andronikos looked smug with himself before signaling the bartender for two more.
"It's just the first that goes down rough," he drawled, "The rest are easy after that." He downed his second, and then leaned back waiting for her to drink hers. K'isha wasn't sure it would be a good idea; the first glass was already warming her insides. Why not, she told herself, taking her glass and downing it quickly. This time she was better prepared for the after effect and able to control to cough that threatened to well up. Andronikos looked approving and was about to signal the bartender again, but K'isha put her hand over her glass.
"Not yet," her voice still sounded weak, but it was rapidly regaining strength, "You never told me what this is." Andronikos smiled as he swirled the liquid in his third glass. She didn't know how he looked unfazed, two glasses in and she was starting to feel the effects, her body feeling warmer and fluid.
"'Killik Elixir'. 'Bug Juice' to the locals. It's fermented from the nectar processed by the Killiks," he explained, "This is one of the only places you can find it. Better than the stuff on Mos Ila, right?" K'isha giggled at that, then clasped her hand over her mouth quickly, out of habit. She was still self-conscious of the girlish reaction to humor. Not very Sith-like, she scolded herself. She was surprised when Andronikos reached over, gently removing her hand from her mouth.
"Don't hide that," he said firmly, "I don't mind when you giggle, you know," his voice was quiet as he leaned in toward her and peered under her hood. She stared into his eyes, unsure if it was the alcohol or his gaze that made it feel like the room shifted. Time froze in that charged moment, until they heard the bartender approach. K'isha leaned back taking a deep breath, noticing Andronikos doing the same thing. He signaled for another refill for her, even though K'isha was doubtful that she should have any more. She started to focus on the music playing low in the corner of the cantina, the bass rhythm causing ripples through her body. Andronikos must have noticed her sway in her seat.
"Do you dance?" he asked. K'isha shrugged, as she continued absorbing the low tones.
"I move to the music," she admitted, "Not sure if it qualifies as dancing. What about you?" Andronikos shook his head.
"Old blaster wound," he said, with a perfectly straight face, "Shot myself in the foot, haven't danced since." K'isha felt a quick burst of sympathy, until she noticed the unholy gleam in his eyes that signified he was teasing her again. She gave him a light kick to the shin, laughing at his grimace, before sliding from her seat.
"Your loss, I guess," she sighed theatrically, before heading to corner dance floor where the jukebox stood. The music was low with a heavy beat, more suited for atmosphere than actual dancing. K'isha stood still for a moment at the edge of the dance floor, before letting the music guide her.
K'isha wasn't lying when she told Andronikos she moved to the music, but the style she'd seen the dancing-girls at various cantinas perform didn't appeal to her. For her, the movement she was most comfortable with was her saber training. With no saber in her hands, her arms drifted up gracefully. Her feet traced some of the basic steps she'd first learned at the Academy, a shift forward on one foot, sweeping it around to the side, shifting her weight back, rocking forward on the opposite foot before repeating the move in the other side. The step was simple, taught to all Sith as acolytes to familiarize them with foot placement, but she'd always felt there was a simple grace to it. As she continued to move, she felt the beat encourage a more pronounced sway to her hips than the move required and she flowed with it, closing her eyes as she relished the pleasure of movement. Lost in the trance caused by the alcohol and music, she could have been on the floor for moments or hours. She wasn't ready for the jar to her senses as a hand clasped her hip and pulled back against a solid body.
K'isha's hand instantly went to her saber, concealed under her light tunic, and she was shocked to feel a hand already covering it. Her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her chest, she remained frozen for a moment, until her dulled senses recognized the familiar feel and the scent of Andronikos's body behind her. She instantly relaxed and felt her body melt against him, swaying to the music again.
"I thought you didn't dance," her voice still breathy from the drinks. She moved against him, letting her arms rise, then come down, tracing her fingers along the back of his neck and down his shoulders before tracing over her own curves. She heard him groan, as she felt his body's instant reaction, and moved against him more slowly. He clasped her firmly to him, as if trying to quell her movement.
"I hate to stop you," his voice was husky in her ear, "But it seems like you might be drawing the wrong attention." K'isha looked around and saw more than one set of appraising eyes looking in her direction. That in itself wasn't a problem, but she noticed there were two Republic soldiers at the far end of the bar, glancing her way. She pulled her hood more firmly over her head, unsure of how much of her face they may have seen, and let Andronikos lead her away from the dance floor. As they passed by the seats they'd been occupying, she saw her glass still sitting there, full. In an impulsive act, she darted her hand out, grasped the glass and downed its contents in one fail swoop. Andronikos turned slightly and shot her an unreadable look, then clasped her hand, urging her to keep up. He moved surely without rushing, K'isha knew he was trying not to draw any more attention than she already had.