(A/n) thanks for the involvement, y'all. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well R and R, let me know what you think!
Their tea cups were abandoned on her coffee table; they were moving steadily closer to each other on the couch as he spun stories of what had happened. Unburdened himself of all that had happened over the three months. All the death, all the change all the loss. She knew that rather than meditate as his apprentice was doing, or drinking his worries away in a lower level bar as many of the Knights and Masters did; he had come to her deliberately. She could feel the force bond that emanated between them, pulsing again now that he had returned.
She had thought, perhaps, that there three months apart, with only his minimal reports made to the council would have quelled this desire for the other's company. It seemed instead to have whetted a need that she didn't know she had exactly, until given the opportunity to satisfy it. When he had commed her directly, three nights before, she had not been expecting his call. But she couldn't ignore, and now she couldn't help but remember the small thrill that had shot through her at seeing him. Memories she had kept at bay, of his kiss, of his departure, were pushing themselves forcibly to her memory.
"What about you, Jocasta?" He said finally, and she could feel his hand against her own, barely touching the skin with the tips of his fingers. "I apologize for speaking of myself so much."
"I'm leaving shortly for an archeological mission. I am yet to know who's accompanying me. Several initiates were apprenticed officially." She looked up into his face, surprised to see a small smile across his serious features. It was the first, other than when she had opened the door to let him in, that seemed genuine. An odd thing considering all she had given were mundane facts about rather ordinary life. "It is much the same as it was."
He was silent for a long moment, where he closed his eyes and ran his hands down his face, seeming to collect his thoughts. She waited, but still he said nothing. "Is something bothering you, Dooku?" Moving on instinct, she inched close to him, pressing a hand to his arm. He looked at it, blinking. "I am sorry for your mission." She moved slightly closer, arm going to his shoulder. She could feel his heart rate change slightly, thrumming a bit faster against his the pulse point on his throat. "It is hard, even for a Jedi, to deal with that much pain." She didn't dare move any closer, though now she could feel his leg against hers, with no indication that he wanted or planned to pull away. "That you have come through it shows the mark of a bravery. Of a Knight"
She reached her hand up again and gently stroked his bearded cheek with the back of her fingers. All of her inhibitions were disappearing. The mission he had described was hell; the force was nudging her gently towards him. Even if it was not going to lead to any kind of romantic action, it was pushing them together. Perhaps only for their own comfort. He seemed to lean into her touch, pressing his cheek more against her fingers, his eyes closed for a brief moment. She felt the force surge around them, emanating from him, from her. It was impossible to tell the difference in that moment.
"I have missed you." He whispered softly to her, before his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the sharp cut of it before he pressed his lips to hers briefly. He pulled back, as if waiting to see if that was what she wanted as well.
"I have missed you as well." She had heard, and read, and seen that absence makes the heart grow fonder. She had not believed such things. For how could distance strengthen a bond between two people? But now she understood. It was not their proximity that united them, simply their connection, already established They could share their experiences, their lives apart, and come together in a way that would not have been the same should they have been around each other constantly. She had known other men, none on this level, none for this length of time and interest. This bond with him was more than a passing fixation.
She twisted her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, tugging him closer again. Their force signatures pulsed together, she wrapped her arm around him. The time for speaking was over, what had been three months of repression, anger, sadness, guilt, loss, fury, turmoil, and disconnect now spilled over into their kiss. He deepened it, exploring her mouth gently but insistently. She let him, pressing closer to him, moving their position on the couch so they would be more comfortable.
She ran hands through his hair, along his back, finding small wounds and tracing them in the dark. When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers, both breathing heavily. His dark brown eyes were finally warm, as she had thought they might be on the first day she saw him. "I'm sorry…" He panted, "I simply…Jocasta, I only…"
But she didn't want an explanation. She wanted this connection. Wanted him. The living force was moving around them almost in a circle, twisting them together and seemingly encasing them. All of those struggles he had described seemed to be evaporating into the force. Much more rapidly than meditation. "Do not be sorry for this, Dooku." There was that small smile again, so true yet a hint unattainable. She closed the space between them again, pressing another kiss to his lips.
Time passed, two kisses turned into a dozen. She could feel his body pressed squarely against hers, his arms weaving through her hair, splayed on her back, grasping at her hips and pulling her tight to him. If he was moving on intent, there was no indication, but either way, she found her legs wrapping around his waist, his weight beginning to bear them down into the couch cushions. She smiled against his lips, the familiar knot of physical desire, now coupled with some strong emotion, coming to light in her body.
But as soon as it was present, he pulled back from her, his hair unkempt, the top of his tunic jerked in opposite directions that she realized she had done unconsciously. He was breathing heavily, his face red, pupils dilated, hovering over her slightly. He jerked upwards, her legs slipping from his waist, and stood all in one motion.
"Thank you for a lovely evening." He said hurriedly, trying to fix his tunic back the way it was. "I should be going." He avoided looking at her, taking a step past her, trying to calm himself. She could feel the panic settling in on his force signature. She sat up and reached for him, just as she had the first night they kissed, her fingertips caught the cusp of his sleeve.
"Do you want to leave, Dooku?" She asked, wishing this was more confusing. But she understood, as he did, what this could mean. And they had not discussed this, they had not reasoned through this decision, this behavior.
"No." To her surprise, he looked back at her, his eyes soft, regretful. "But I know I must." A long, lingering glance later and he was stepping away from her, towards the door. "I will see you tomorrow, Jocasta."
And she was left, watching the back of the door. Feeling the settling of her force signature, the taste of mint tea still strong in her mouth.
