Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by George Lucas. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The character of Ryn Orun belongs to DestructiveGlory; I am simply borrowing her for the purposes of this story.

(6)

that went well

"I slept with someone."

Usually he's less tactless than this, but the only way he would have ever been able to confess is if he just told the truth straight. Still, he wishes he had the common sense to use a bit of subtlety. Ryn blinks, as if in shock, and moves back, slinging the drying towel over her forearm. "Oh," she says neutrally, face and tone betraying nothing. "I see. Did you… enjoy it?"

It isn't a slight against him; there's nothing cruel in her voice. Somehow that's even worse than her crying or getting mad at him. Where he a vengeful person he'd go on to say something like it was the best fuck I've had in years, thanks for asking, but he isn't a vengeful person and anyway it's not like she had an affair of her own. It'd be a lie anyway. Obi-Wan was good but… he wasn't Ryn. No-one could be Ryn.

(And he feels too guilty about the whole thing anyway.)

"It was… nice," he admits, and he thinks he sees a flash of hurt cross her face. "But – but it wasn't like you think it is!"

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "You came here to tell me you've slept with someone, Ferus. What else am I supposed to think?"

"Not that." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, wondering how to tell her. Wondering how she'll take it. "It's – it's complicated."

"Everything's complicated with you, Ferus," she sighs.

(It's true.)

Ferus twists his hands together, and changes the subject. "The renegotiations. How did they go?"

She doesn't answer the question. "How do you know about the renegotiations?" she says instead, sotto voceand taken aback. "Only Loreth and the Jedi Council and the Chancellor know about them. Ferus, if there's been a security leak you need to tell me now –"

He winces. "It's not a security leak."

"Then how –?"

"I told you… I slept with somebody."

She stares at him for a very long moment, trying to comprehend this revelation. "You – you slept with somebody so that my hostage situation could be renegotiated," she says haltingly.

"Yes."

She presses her fingertips to her temples tightly, taking a semi-controlled breath.

"Ryn?" Ferus says tentatively, moving closer. "Aren't you… happy?"

There's a tense second, then all the air in the room seems to be sucked out as something shatters. "Of course I'm not fucking happy!" she screams, and Ferus backpedals in shock. "It's my life, Ferus! My life! You know how much it means to me, but you're just like everyone else who thinks that it's okay to play around with it as if it means nothing! Well it's not okay, Ferus Olin! It isn't, damn you–"

It's nothing short of frightening, watching her lose control like this. She never loses control, never; not tempered, steady Ryn, screaming– "But I don't think it means nothing, Ryn!" Ferus cries in protestation, like a fool, like a man, like an idiot. "I – I gave you your freedom!"

"I didn't damn well ask you for it, did I? You sold your body to the highest bidder for another contract I had no say in! How dareyou play with my life so carelessly –"

"It's not like that –" is all he can pathetically defend before Ryn – she's crying, I did that– lunges for two plates on the draining rack and hurls them at his head, one after the other.

Duck, you fool! His mind screams, but all he can do is stand there in shock as the first one shatters on his head. The other follows it but he doesn't feel that one, reeling from the exploding agony of the first. He stumbles backwards and his arm hits the wall. It's the only thing keeping him standing right now, and in a daze he gingerly touches his burning head. I'm bleeding, he realises faintly in between Ryn's harsh gasps for breath.

"Get out!" she hisses, holding another plate like the projectile weapon anything can become in her capable hands. "Just get out, get out–"

Even though he obeys she throws it at him anyway. This time it misses, but only because he staggers before it can hit his head, not because her aim is off. The door slams shut behind him, and he thinks he can hear her crying. His heart aches and he longs to turn around and go back and comfort her, but, well, he doesn't think he's her favourite person at the moment. (And quite possibly will never be again. That thought hurts more, so he tries to ignore it.)

Congratulations, Olin. That went splendidly. Encore?

Ferus scowls, and dimly he notices that his vision is blurring. Oh. That can't be good. It must be a concussion.

(He deserves it.)

(Or maybe it's because he's crying as well.)