Day 76
They had drifted back into "their" routine by the time Zekk found the first tabloid article. He hadn't been looking for it – in fact, it was the first cheap rag he had ever read. A customer had left it behind, and Mique noticed the image of Jaina. The other bartender had made a point of showing it to Zekk.
The article despaired of Jaina Solo "ever finding a healthy, monogamous relationship." The image had her plastered against Kyp Durron, who held her almost possessively close. The two Jedi looked completely riveted by each other.
Zekk reminded himself that tabloids usually stretched the truth.
But, part of him thought, to stretch the truth, don't you have to start with something truthful?
He didn't throw the tabloid away.
x-x-x
Day 92
"True or false: one underworld crimelord – we'll call him Cruxx – is finally behind bars. For good."
Zekk and Jaina shared a grin as she sat (in her seat) at the bar. She leaned in as if sharing a confidence. "I do believe," she whispered, "that the given statement is true."
"Great job," he approved.
Although it contradicted everything he had seen of her so far, Zekk thought Jaina might have blushed – just a little. "Well, I only did the grunt work, really," she said. "But, since I'm the only one here… How about a brandy with a side of extra-salty, extra-greasy fries?"
"I'm sure you played an important part," he told her. His gaze stayed on her as he prepared her order.
He must have imagined her blush, because Jaina flipped her hair with her cocky grin. "Well, duh."
"So, who else was on the case, anyway?" Zekk asked. He slid her fries across the counter.
Jaina smiled her thanks, then shrugged. "It was a pretty big operation," she told him. "We had people everywhere. But I was on the heading team with Jacen, Kyp, and Tenel Ka."
"Kyp as in Kyp Durron, huh?" he remarked, trying very hard to sound nonchalant.
Jaina chomped into one of her fries, and nodded absently as she chewed. "Yeah," she said after swallowing. "He was leading the mission. Left me to deflate his head every few days – he loves taking point – keeps crowing that it's because he's so much 'wiser.' My dear twin, of course, was too busy falling all over Tenel Ka to help."
"You must be close." At her raised eyebrow, Zekk added, "To…Kyp Durron, I mean."
She looked at him for a moment, then stabbed a fry into her tomato paste. "I know you probably think he's a hero or a villain or at least some kind of important feature in a tabloid, but call him by one of his real names, please. 'Kyp,' preferably." She didn't look angry, only mildly – resignedly – annoyed.
Clearly, using the awkward, learned full version of a name was gauche to celebrities' friends. "Sorry. Kyp. Are you close to Kyp?"
Jaina ate two fries. "Yep." Oddly, the right corner of her mouth tilted upward as she took a gulp of her drink. When she looked up again, however, her lips had straightened. "These fries are great, you know. Exactly what I needed."
"Great," he replied inattentively. "So…"
She crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat. "'So'?" she repeated mildly.
"Is he – are you – is he your boyfriend?"
Jaina's expression seemed caught between amusement and annoyance – thankfully, she chose to react with the former. "I knew it." She snorted, shook her head, then let herself laugh.
"Knew what?" he asked in bemusement.
"Let me guess," she said. "The Star."
It took him a moment to realize she was naming the tabloid. "Jaina – "
"No? Not The Star? Because they love writing articles on my family, and the Jedi. And you've obviously seen something about Kyp and I."
Another faux pas, no doubt. Zekk winced. "I didn't mean – "
"No, no." Jaina waved a fry in the air. "It's okay." She almost sounded convinced, too. "You're new to this, after all. It's just – " Something gave, and she laughed again, more genuinely. "Stars, of all the articles… I don't suppose you still have it?" she asked wryly.
"Oh, well, not here," he muttered.
"Okay…." She gulped down some of her brandy, then leaned forward at the counter. "To answer your question: no. Kyp and I are not dating. Nor are we indulging ourselves in some kind of illicit affair – short- or long-term – and denying it. No matter what the tabloids say. He's been a part of my life for a very long time; I adore and trust him. Despite the occasional bout of good-natured flirting, however, we have only ever been friends. I don't cheat, and neither does he."
"Cheat?"
She gave him a smile, and it was tinted with mischief. "Kyp is completely, madly, head-over-heels, can't-see-or-think-straight in love with a…friend…of mine." The word choice of "friend" seemed just slightly awkward. "Unless you've followed Kyp or I on the holo-net and in the tabloids, you probably don't know of her – Sanar?" He shook his head. "Well, they aren't together," Jaina continued. "But Kyp would never give up on her, and certainly not for a fling."
"And you?" Zekk asked. He was curious to discover the unfiltered truth about his famous friend.
"I'm seeing someone," she said with a shrug. A surprising grin flitted across her face. "And though I flatter myself to think I bring out his more roguish qualities, Jag is not Kyp Durron. They don't even look that much alike."
Zekk's brow furrowed. "Did someone say they did? Look alike, I mean."
She rolled her eyes, and pulled out her wallet. "Only every tabloid, gossip, or biographer who has ever talked about me. They both have dark hair and pale skin." She pulled out a 2D image of a solemn looking man of about Zekk's age. "And they both have greenish eyes. But the way the tabloids tell it, Jag and Kyp – and you, if they ever met you – were separated at birth." She made a face; her can you even believe that? went unspoken.
His eyebrow raised at hearing his name clumped with people whose likenesses were probably in the holo-zines as often as Jaina's. "So what's he like? Your boyfriend – Jag?"
She smiled. "He's a nice guy – fighter pilot, like me, but more serious." Something impish flickered across her face. "Usually." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, and picked up another fry. "He grew up in the Unknown Regions, but we'd met a few times a year even before we started dating." Laughing, Jaina added, "Usually at the – the really awful society affairs that our parents would drag us to when we were kids. Anyway, he's currently an ambassador…of sorts…for his people." A grin. "As much as a pilot can be an ambassador."
Zekk frowned at her lack of starry eyes. "You aren't in love with him, are you."
Jaina blinked at him, as if curious about why this was brought into a conversation about her boyfriend. "Well, no," she said. "Not really." She glanced down briefly. "Not yet, at the very least. Jag and I – we aren't serious like that. Not every relationship has to be the 'be all to end all,' you know."
"Well, I didn't meant that – "
"He's a good guy," she continued. Now – though still without the dreamy, love-struck eyes – she seemed to drift from him. "He's smart, and always does what he believes is right. And he – he understands…being the fighter pilot offspring of celebrities. It's enough for now."
Vaguely disappointed – maybe he was a bit – of a romantic – Zekk stole one of her fries. "Do you think it'll get more serious?"
Jaina drummed her fingers on the bar thoughtfully. "I don't know," she finally said. "Maybe. Anything's possible, right? We're still getting to know each other as we steal some time together." She skipped a beat. "Mom loves him, of course. She thinks he's a 'stabilizing influence.' I almost feel sorry for her."
Zekk shrugged. "You never know."
Jaina gave him a look. "Zekk, c'mon. I'm a Jedi pilot." Her eyes slanted away from his. "Life's too short to settle down. I'd rather burn out as I am than live a nice, peaceful life with a 'good man' who comes home at 1800 for a carefully prepared home-cooked meal."
He frowned. He had heard people talk like Jaina before – people who burned too hard, too fast, and who preferred their death fighting. But it was different, coming from someone he cared about. He hesitated, then reached across the bar. His hand hovered a moment, then gently lowered onto hers.
Her fingers had been restlessly fidgeting, but stilled at his touch. She swallowed, and her lips tightened.
But then she was the Jedi "princess" again; she tossed her hair, took an impatient drink of her brandy, and smiled.
He thought: He had seen that smile a hundred times, in just as many holo-captured public appearances. He might have imagined the self-deprecation in her eyes.
"Force," she said. Her voice was too light. "How did that happen?"
But she didn't shake away his hand.
