First Date

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Eda's hazel eyes glanced up briefly to study the girl's face in the vanity's mirror, then dropped back down to the mass of platinum blond hair she was trying to coax into some kind of order. The girl was striving for nonchalance, but kept fiddling with her holo-locket and worrying her bottom lip. If Ro was serious about pursuing the life of an investigator, then she needed to learn how to abstain from such obvious displays of emotions. She was a holo-book, open for anyone to read and that could get you killed.

"Straighten up," Eda ordered brusquely. "Keep your head still." This latter was added with the first warning strains of exasperation.

Ro obeyed, but squinted a little to get a better look at Eda's handiwork.

The older woman's offer to help Ro get ready for her date with Cloude had been as unexpected as it had been welcome, though Ro had been a little dismayed to hear that the first order of business was attacking her thick, long mop of hair. She'd half expected Eda to cut her hair into straight lines and force it into a tight braid, as Master Adriav had done on the day she'd chosen Ro as her Padawan. Instead, Eda had spent almost ten minutes brushing out her hair until it was a long, silky mass, then had created three thin braids on either side of her face, which she was now braiding into one single, thick braid, that would trail down her back. Ro liked it; she liked the complex braid pattern against the simple backdrop of her otherwise loose hair.

"About my question..."

Eda breathed out through her nose. The girl was psychologically incapable of remaining quiet for any significant length of time. It wasn't entirely her fault. Altis and her husband doted on the girl and tended to encourage her habit of asking endless strings of questions, rather than wait politely - and prudently - for the information to come to her. Another thing Eda would have to teach her. Questions made criminals wary. Ro would need to learn to decipher the information she needed from every crumb thrown her way in a casual conversation.

"What is it?"

Ro was silent for a while, no doubt sensing the thread of impatience in Eda's voice, but caution - like silence - was not one of her strong-suits.

"What...What do you do on a date?" she asked hesitantly.

"You talk." Eda pushed an errant strand of pale blond hair back into place.

Ro frowned, an expression that caused unseemly creases to appear between her pale eyebrows.

"Yeah, 'kay, but about what?"

"Likes," Eda supplied as she plucked a powder-blue ribbon from the vanity and wove it onto the last two inches of the combined braid, finishing her work. "Dislikes. Literature. Holos. Music." She allowed herself a put-upon roll of her almond shaped eyes. "The weather."

Ro let out a breath, puffing up her cheeks as she did so and making herself look like a Nelvaan squirrel with its cheeks full of Teeka nuts. "That sounds….fairly simple." Then her face scrunched up doubtfully. "Are you sure?" she asked. "That doesn't sound like a date. That sounds like…." Ro waved her hands about wildly, as if trying to pluck an adequate comparison from thin air. "Like chinwagging with that uncle you only see on Republic Day."

Eda tapped Ro's head with the back of a brush, causing the girl to yelp and cover her head with her hands.

"That didn't hurt," Eda told her unsympathetically. "Of course I'm certain. Which one of us has actually been on dates?" Though truth be told, the encounters Eda had had with males at Ro's age could not strictly be called 'dates'; not in the conventional sense anyway. And it hadn't been until she'd met Shiv and been talked into accompanying him to a tapcaf frequented by the enlisted men for drinks and warra nuts, that she'd realized that fact.

The memory of her first, real 'date' brought a secretive smile to Eda's lips.

She'd been in her late thirties by then, jaded and unimpressed by the galaxy at large and at pains to prove this to the annoyingly cheerful wolf who had, somehow, talked her into working for the Republic - on occasion. The alcohol had been cheap, their surroundings dingy and the other customers common rabble; nothing, in other words, like the circles she'd moved in as Blood Orchid: assassin, mercenary and spy. But the company….

Shiv had made her laugh. And they had talked; talked until they were the last customers and the server droid threatened to throw them out. They hadn't done more than touch hands when they'd accidentally reached for the same pitcher of Lum ale, but Eda had never felt closer to another sentient being. It had been a date and it had been the moment she'd realized that, ridiculous as it was, she loved Shiv Sanarl.

"Eda?" Ro's tentative question brought her back to the present. The girl had turned about in her chair to stare at Eda with wide, impish eyes. "Your Force-aura just went all hinkey and pink-blush-red."

"Hinkey?" Eda repeated and scoffed. "You're talking nonsense. Stand up." She added an imperious gesture to the order.

Ro stood, twirling in place unasked, giggling as the hem of her dress flew out over her knees.

Eda eyed the overall effect critically. The light blue dress had been the right choice. The material clung to Ro's body, without drawing too much attention to her rather boyish figure, while leaving most of her legs - which were long and straight and well muscled from years of Jedi training and dancing - bare. Tiny beads woven in a tasteful floral pattern added just the right shade of teal to match Ro's eyes without turning the dress into something gaudy or too childish.

Eda was pleased. "Acceptable," she told her student and the girl beamed before reaching up to touch the intricate braids running along her temple. Eda swatted her hand away from her hair and Ro, pouting, blew theatrically on her abused fingers.

"Ow."

"That didn't hurt."

The door chimes sounded.

Ro went still and her pulse jumped in her throat. Startled, she caught the sleeve of Eda's own gown in hands that were slightly sweaty.

"Ro!" Shiv's voice boomed up from the stairwell. "Cloude's here!"

Ro's played nonchalance and confidence disintegrated like a Tatooine sand castle in a storm. Her eyes grew huge in her thin, oval face and the grip on Eda's sleeve tightened, crumpling the fabric. She swallowed. "What do I do?" she whispered, helpless in her nervousness.

Eda unclenched Ro's fingers from her sleeve, grabbed the girl by her shoulders and steered her towards the bedroom door. "You go downstairs," the older woman instructed. "You say hello. He'll tell you how pretty you look. Shiv will grumble. You will leave. Have dinner. Talk."

"And if he's planning on wanting more than talk?" The question slipped past numb lips.

Eda tried to push the girl through the door, but Ro had dug in her heels.

"What if he..." She swallowed again and her previously flushed cheeks paled. "What if he wants to kiss? Mascs want that kind of thing, right?"

Eda raised a gracefully curved eyebrow, amusement glinting in her almond-shaped, hazel eyes. "Females are known to want that kind of thing as well," she told Ro. "Kiss. Go as far as you are comfortable with." Now there, she thought cynically, was a piece of advice no one had ever bothered giving her, including her own mother. Eda's 'V-card', as the dancers at the Hutts' palaces had liked to say, hadn't lasted much past her teens. It was something she'd regretted, later, after meeting Shiv, though on Nal Hutta her situation hadn't been anything special. In the hard world of the Hutts, you used and sold whatever you had to survive.

"'Kay." Ro sounded more timid than convinced, but at least she was no longer staring at the door to her bedroom like it was a cleverly disguised nexu waiting to pounce. She reached out, then snatched her hand back again, as if against all expectation, the door had burned her anyway. "I've been giving it a think-over and come to an executive decision," she babbled. "The entire date thing is making me mono uncomfortable. I'm handing in the cancelation flimsi."

Eda rolled her eyes, reached past Ro to open the door and unceremoniously shoved the girl through and down the hallway.

It was a good thing that Ro was a Jedi, because otherwise she would have fallen down the stairs to land flat on her face at Cloude's feet. As it was, she practically fell into his arms; a development which both delighted and embarrassed her.

"Whoa!" Cloude stumbled a few paces back as Ro's weight landed against his chest. His arms came around her waist to hold her steady and they both froze.

"Ehm." Cloude's face went red.

Ro, pressed up against his chest and looking up at him as a result, matched him in embarrassment and color. "I-I'm so sorry. Sorry," she stuttered, trying to disentangle herself.

Someone, presumably Shiv, hastily turned a snicker into a cough.

"No problem, really," Cloude assured her, giving her that sweet smile that made his eyes light up and which made her want to just lick his face to get a taste of all that sweetness.

Her face turned a deeper shade of crimson and Ro hastily turned her back on Cloude, fighting the urge to slap some sense into her own silly skull. Easy, Ro, she reminded herself. You've got this. You can do this. Don't act like a complete choobis!

She caught sight of Eda descending the stairs to the ground floor. At this hour, the shop was closed and Eda was backlit by the lights from the stairwell, causing her white hair to glitter a faint silver and the shimmersilk of her dress to ripple. The older woman was a vision of grace and confidence and Ro held in a sigh of envy.

Compared to Eda, Jedi skills or no, Ro was a raging ronto in a porceplast shop, cursed with four left feet.

Galactically unfair, she thought, uncaring of the whine her mental voice had taken on. Eda's graceful entrance just served to highlight her own clumsy introduction.

Eda's eyes flicked to her, then her husband, who had retreated a few steps back and who was emanating pure mirth at an alarming rate. In comparison, Eda was expertly hewn ice. Without missing a beat she swept past Ro and towards Cloude, extending a well-manicured hand to the young artist.

"Cloude," she said coolly.

Cloude, still red-faced, bobbed an awkward greeting, then took her hand, squeezing the fingers lightly. "Madame Ikuzu." He tried for a smile, but his discomfort in Eda's presence was palpable even without relying on the Force.

Eda retrieved her hand, looking Cloude up and down carefully.

Ro, safely tucked away behind Eda's back, thanked the Force and all legally registered deities that Cloude did not share in his parents' eccentric dress style. Had he shown up in a grass-skirt and miniature glowrods tucked into his hair, Eda would probably have cut him to shreds with her sharp tongue before feeding the pieces to a pack of stray tooka cats.

The entire room held its breath as Eda finished her inspection. When she gave a small sniff - neither approving, nor entirely disapproving - Shiv, Ro, and Cloude in particular, exhaled in relief.

"Acceptable," Eda said blandly, as if she hadn't noticed their reaction. Without looking back at Ro, she gestured for the girl to come closer. "Roweena," - Ro flinched at the usage of her full name - "come here. Stand next to him."

Ro sidled up next to Cloude, studying her turquoise toenails in the open-toed sandals with fixed attention. She was supremely aware of his closeness to her and the fresh scent of mint from the Algoraspice cologne he'd splashed on his smooth cheeks. Would he taste like mint if she...

"Look up," Eda commanded and reflexively Ro obeyed.

"Roweena?" Cloude had bent his head down halfway to her ear, whispering the name while Ro tried not to swoon at the way his curly hair fell into his dreamy eyes.

"It's my name," Ro answered in the same whisper, then immediately quelled the urge to smack herself for such a ridiculous reply. Brilliant, Ro. Way to rock the conversational scale.

Cloude gave her a smile that turned her knees into so much gumbah pudding.

"I like it," he told her.

She was blushing again. "I like it, too."

The two smiled at each other and Ro felt herself fall forward; fall into those wonderfully sweet, dreamy eyes…

"You're both acceptable." Eda's cool verdict jarred Ro back to real space. Hastily she looked away from Cloude, realizing how close their faces were at that moment. Holy crumblebuns, had they been about to….? Right in front of Eda and Shiv? Uhhh, mono blush-embarrassment!

Shiv's hand fell heavily onto her shoulder. "Well, now that both of you pups passed the inspection, why don't you get underway. I'm sure you have plans for the night." This was directed with a quizzical look at Cloude. Apparently the planning for the actual date was up to the male. Good thing, because Ro was pretty sure her gray cells were already metamorphosing to putty.

"We do, sir," Cloude answered politely, tentatively smiling up at the towering Shistavanen. Ripples of unease moved through the normally pink, fluffy sensation that marked Cloude's presence in the Force. The young artist wasn't any more at ease with Shiv than he was with Eda. "I made reservations for us at a restaurant in town, that just opened up. Wi-with your permission, of course. Sir."

Shiv ignored the stumbled courtesy. Grinning - an action that required him to drop his lower jaw a few centimeters and expose the tips of his fangs in the process - he began to propel the two young people towards the door. Ro was beginning to wonder if this was some kind of Ansionian ritual. She hadn't noticed people generally flying out of doorways in Dashbalar, unless you counted the occasional rowdy cantina.

"That sounds just fine, lad," Shiv said, affable as always. If he noticed Cloude shiver at the sight of his fangs, he gave no sign of it. "I'm sure you two will have a splendid time of it. But," he added, half turning Cloude around to face his greying and scarred visage, "not too splendid, if you know what I mean?"

"Oh."Cloude's eyes went impossibly wide and the ripples turned into full blown gales of anxiety, underlined by a slightly salty tang of nervousness. "Oh, no, sir. I-I mean, yes, sir. I do understand and-and you can trust me. Sir."

Shiv cocked his ears. Though his face was serious, Ro knew he was having endless fun with this. She wondered if she could get away with a subtle kick to his tail, but catching Eda's eye, she refrained from any half-formed plans of vengeance. It was obvious from Eda's cool observation, that she considered this talk normal and appropriate.

"I certainly hope so, young man." Shiv was nodding sagely, clapping Cloude on the shoulder hard enough to nearly bring him to his knees. "My wife and I are responsible for this little lady and I do take my responsibility serious. A lifetime in the military, dealing with all those big blasters, will do that."

Cloude had grown paler with every passing word, until his freckles stood out like bits of wuli nut in a bowl of frosty treat. His eyes kept sliding down to the claws tipping each of Shiv's powerful fingers and the gleaming prosthetic peeking out from his right pant leg.

"I-I..."

"We got it." It was Ro's turn to double-time it towards a door. She grabbed Cloude's hand, ignoring the frantic skipping of her heart as she did so and dragged the hapless young man out into the darkening spring day. "We're going. See you soon. Bye." It all came out in a rush. Cloude tried to turn around and bow respectfully towards the aged couple and was nearly turned into a nanana twist for his troubles.

"Don't stay out all night!" Shiv called after them.

Shiv turned towards his wife once the young people were gone, cocking his tattered left ear - the Shistavanen equivalent of cocking an eyebrow. "Well," he huffed and swished his tail in a flurry of exasperation. "They sure left in a tearing hurry."

Eda eyed him for a long moment, then burst out into a throaty gale of laughter.

Shiv straightened, confused as well as delighted by this unusual outburst of gaiety. His mate had a lovely laugh. He wished she would use it more often. And that he got the joke.

"Something I said?" he wondered, which only seemed to spur Eda on even more.

Sinking into the chair behind the counter, Eda waved one long-fingered hand at him, while covering her eyes with the other. She peeked at her husband through her fingers, the gesture reminiscent of the young woman she'd been when he'd first met her. "Silly old wolf," she said, her cultured voice warm with affection.

"I'm real bombad sorry about that." Ro was still red-faced from the encounter of the weird kind in Odd Ends - and the fact that Cloude was still holding her hand. She was in turn delighted and horrified at this; marveling at the softness of his hands and hoping to all the kind forces in the galaxy that her palms weren't sweaty. "I have no clue what madness got hold of them. Shiv's usually mono nice and Eda..." She bit her tongue in an effort to stop the shower of words. She was babbling like a fool again. Ro ducked her head, abashed.

"It's alright," Cloude assured her with a squeeze of his hand. "They were just looking out for you."

They had been looking out for her, just like those parents in the holovids. Which was strange, considering Eda hadn't even wanted her around at first.

"I-I guess so." The idea was utterly startling. "So," she peeked at him from behind the cover of her unruly bangs, "ehm, where are we wandering off to?"

He graced her with a wonderfully sweet smile that promised a big surprise to come. She couldn't wait. She loved surprises.

"It's called The Dark Room. The owner is a friend of my father." His grin widened and he winked. "I used my favorable connections to get a table for us."

"It's that popular?" New restaurants and entertainments opened weekly in a city centered on trade and artisans and usually went broke again just as quickly. The citizens of Dashbalar could be fickle in their pursuit of enjoyment and tired easily of one pleasure or another.

"The Dark Room has been filled to bursting since opening night," he declared proudly. "I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."

She wasn't. Her pockets were pretty lean these days and instead of drooling over the delicious and exotic foods she couldn't even afford to smell, let alone taste, Ro spent the precious hours of her free time mostly roaming the artisan and entertainment district, watching street performers and admiring the wares on the open markets. And Eda and Shiv were rather contemptuous of whatever new fad gripped Dashbalar that month. They had their preferred restaurants, should the urge take them to go out for a meal, so neither one of her teachers would have informed her of the smashing success of an establishment with as unusual a name as The Dark Room. Strange choice, really, for a restaurant.

Ro would have liked to put all of her thoughts into words, but her tongue was hopelessly tied into knots. Luckily, Cloude didn't seem to notice her silence. He talked to her easily, enthusiastic about his newest painting and his hopes to sell it to Eda as well and for the most part, Ro was content to listen. She didn't know all that much about the technical aspects of painting. Her drawings came from the gut and she didn't tend to worry about brush strokes and pigment alteration. Which left her with very little to contribute to the conversation, even if it hadn't been for her nerve-knotted tongue. But her part as an active listener gave her time to explore the feel of her hand in his and that was pretty stellar right there.

"Here we are." Cloude gestured expansively at the building ahead of them.

Ro looked and thought that at first glance, the only impressive thing about The Dark Room was the line of people at its entrance. There had to be about thirty sentients - mostly couples, ranging from their age to something close to Eda's and Shiv's - waiting in a straight, velvet edged line to be admitted to the restaurant. A Miraluka host in a smartly cut, grey and white uniform was politely barring the way, bowing his head every once in a while in an attentive listening pose before allowing someone else inside. Ro supposed he must be wearing an earbud comlink and raised an eyebrow in the first stirrings of astonishment. That was a pretty mono expensive piece of tech for a new restaurant to be using.

"C'mon, Roweena."

Startled at hearing her full name, she jumped slightly. "What?"

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked sheepishly. "Me calling you that? I kind of like it better than Ro. It sounds far more poetic."

Her answering smile was shy and a little uncertain. "I don't mind. I think," she added in a breath that Cloude didn't hear.

"Good." He gave her hand another squeeze. "The food is fantastic. You'll love this place, I promise. It's utterly unique."

To Ro's surprise, Cloude led her right past the line of waiting customers and towards the Miraluka. Hearing - or perhaps even sensing - their approach, the Miraluka turned to face them and the illumination from the surrounding lightpoles flashed off of his black headband. "Ah, young Master Cloude and friend. Your table is set and ready." He stepped aside in a curious, smooth half-glide that Ro found fascinating to watch. Her free hand clenched around her holo-locket as she fought down the urge to reach out and explore the man's Force-aura. Miraluka were inherently Force-sensitive and Ro wasn't supposed to shout about her Jedi status if it could be avoided; which was why her lightsabers were firmly tucked away in a box beneath her bed back at Odd Ends. A brush with the Force against a Force-sensitives mind was almost as good waving a lightsaber under said person's nose.

Another opportunity missed, she thought ruefully as the Miraluka bowed gracefully to them.

"Enter and be entertained," he said with practiced ease, "by a dining experience unparalleled in this part of the galaxy."

She almost - almost - opened her mouth and told him that that was quite a claim to make and could he please show her the flimsiwork to back it up, but Cloude was already leading her past the man and she managed to distract herself by gazing at the curve of Cloude's round cheek and ear. At that moment, her stomach was so totally wrapped up in being aflutter, she couldn't have eaten anyway, unparalleled experience or no.

The mmhmm butterflies in her stomach threatening to turn her into a giggly, fluttering mess, stilled however, when she caught sight of the interior of The Dark Room.

Ro hadn't been sure what to expect, but the stark, spartanly furnished Dark Room hadn't been it.

The restaurant was a single large room with the doors to the kitchen cleverly disguised, so that they were practically indistinguishable from the simple, brown walls. Bare lumen globes were spaced evenly along the ceiling and cast each of the tables in soft light. There were no decorations. No furniture aside from the tables and chairs. The colors in which The Dark Room had been decked out were various shades of brown and grey. All in all, Ro was a little disappointed. She hadn't expected Cloude to invite her to The Shine, where they supposedly even rimmed the water glasses with pure gold, but a little sparkly would have been nice. In The Dark Room, the most attractive feature were the clothes of some of the guests.

"There's our table." Cloude pointed to a non-descript table set for two, positioned towards the middle of the large room. As far as Ro could see, this table was no different than its neighbors, though the little shivery waves of excitement and blue-mint tendrils of delight clued her in that Cloude clearly thought differently. In fact, all the guests in The Dark Room seemed singularly excited.

Ro kept turning her head this way and that in hopes of catching sight of what made this restaurant so special as Cloude guided her to their table. She wasn't having much luck. There weren't even any servers - organic or otherwise - moving about, though she sensed a good number of sentients towards the back, in the kitchen.

"Here." Cloude pulled out a chair for her and the delightfully gallant gesture brought all of Ro's previous joy - and nerves - back. So what if the restaurant was on the bare side of life? She was on her first date with an absolutely adorable gentleman.

"Thank you." She smiled up at him as she sat, then quickly glanced over their table. Plates and utensils were already set out, as well as tall glasses filled with Almakian apple juice. A woven basket with mealbread served as the center piece. Ro scanned the room again, then turned towards Cloude, puzzled. "How do we order? I don't see any servers or menus."

He laughed, obviously pleased with his surprise. "You don't. The Dark Room serves a certain dish every day. Today we'll be enjoying bantha steaks glazed in gannesa juice with kiwip grass and candied bofa fruit for dessert."

Ro hid a grimace. She'd been a devoted vegetarian ever since a misadventure in a meat-processing facility; a fact Cloude couldn't have known. Though he could have asked. Ah, well. She liked kiwip grass and the candied bofa fruit would simply be delicious. Ro had no problem with filling up on dessert.

Unaware of his misstep, Cloude continued with his explanation. "The servers come out with the food just before the show starts."

"Show?" She perked up at this. "Will there be dancers?" Ro loved dancers and usually had to grip the edge of her seat to keep from springing up and joining in the fun.

Cloude chuckled, brushing curls out of his eyes and Ro was torn between gazing fatuously at him or frowning in total puzzlement at his amusement. Ro loved laughter, but she generally loved it even more when she was in on the punchline.

"Something I said?"

"No, it's not that. Or, it is, but not quite." He shook his head and flashed her one of those heart-meltingly sweet smiles. "The thing is, there might be dancers, but we wouldn't be able to see them."

"Oh?" If she hadn't sensed his utter guilelessness in the Force, Ro might have suspected that he was making fun of her. "I don't understand."

"You will." And then he reached for her hand and just like that, Ro didn't care an atom about understanding. She was far too busy swallowing back those aforementioned butterflies in her stomach. Her hand tingled. How could a simple touch make her hand tingle so wonderfully?

"You look really pretty, you know that?"

She ducked her head, her cheeks as red as a topato. "You already said that," she reminded him shyly.

"I know." His smile widened. "But I think it bears repeating. Your eyes, Roweena, they're just so..." He shook his head and a warm, green glow of admiration surrounded his Force-aura. "They're so full of light. You could illuminate an entire room."

The quiet murmur of background conversation fell away. Her awareness of the other guests completely disappeared. There was just him and his hand holding hers and his eyes watching her face. Her breath caught and her heart leaped into the vicinity of her mouth. That was...the single sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. And then her mind went blank with panic as she realized she had nothing equally wonderful to say in return.

Oh, she could have chattered on for hours about his soft, long lashes and the exciting curls of his hair and how she loved the roundness of his cheeks, because they tempted her terribly to pinch them. She could have said all of that and more, except her mind was swept clean of words. If someone had put a blaster to her head at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to even spell 'cheek'.

Help! She mentally screeched. I'm fumbling! All hands on deck!

"You..."

The Force was on her side. For the life of her Ro couldn't have predicted what would have come out of her mouth next - perhaps nothing more than a senseless string of letters - but at that moment, the hidden doors to the kitchen opened and a stream of servers came flooding out. All were Miraluka and all wore the grey and white uniform of the host outside, including the dark headbands that covered their vestigial eye sockets. They each balanced trays with steaming platters of food that smelled simply heavenly, even if the idea of bantha steak caused Ro to wrinkle her nose slightly in distaste.

Cloude straightened and the sense of anticipation in the room heightened to a toneless hum that vibrated in Ro's teeth. "It's about to start." He turned to her, the sparkle in his eyes breathtaking. "I'm telling you, Roweena, you've never really tasted food until you can't see what you're eating. It's as if your entire palate suddenly comes alive and sees for you."

She turned towards him, confused and with a sudden weight in her stomach that wasn't at all fluttery. "Wait. Did you say..." That was as far as she got when suddenly, all the lights in the restaurant went out.

For a brief second, Ro was inhumanly aware of the chair pressing against her backside, the fabric of her dress sliding against her legs and the enchanted murmurs of surprise from the other guests.

Then dead terror took hold of her and turned her mind into a clean slate.

She froze first, too frightened to even breathe in the absolute darkness surrounding her.

No. No. Nonononononono. Not the dark. Please. Not the dark.

That stupefying first moment of fear helped Ro in her struggle for control over herself. The fear paralyzed her and while her mind was running in two dozen directions a parsec a second, her body at least was forced to stillness.

This is real. The thought kept returning to her again and again. This is real. This isn't the dream. The nightmare. This is just the lights turned off. The darkness isn't going to eat you.

Something, most likely the sleeve of the Miralukan server bringing their food, brushed up against Ro's bare arm.

She screamed - a high, piercing sound that was already being chocked by tears - and jumped out of her chair. The chair clattered backwards, the sound echoing in the darkness. The left side of her face collided with the server's elbow. The Miraluka - taken totally by surprise - yelped and dropped the plate she'd been holding.

Porceplast clattered, something - glass - shattered and the conversation in the room was whipped into a frantic meter as two dozen people began to ask what had happened.

The Miraluka cursed and tried to steady herself and Ro, reaching out to the terrified girl with her hand and the Force.

It was a well-meant gesture, but the touch of another against her consciousness provoked a response within Ro the other woman couldn't have anticipated. Trained in the ways of the Force by the Jedi, Ro had learned to shield her mind and in moments of duress, to attack an intruder.

Operating solely on instinct and fear, Ro did as she'd been taught and slammed her mental shields down, blasting the Miraluka with a barrage of emotions at the same time.

The woman gasped and uttered a shrill scream of her own, before collapsing under the weight of the terror Ro had thrown at her. The server fell at an angle, half-landing on Ro and spilling the final contents of her tray on the by now crying Jedi.

She couldn't breathe. Her chest was drawn tight in fear; her heart raced, so loud and fast that it drowned out all other sounds, including Cloude calling her name.

Ro pedaled backwards, then tried to run. She was completely without orientation, but it didn't matter where she ran, so long as it was away from the darkness. Away. Away!

Her head was a single source of pain. The mind-block had been designed for just this kind of scenario and the subconscious command Master Adriav had implanted in her mind was working hard to try and bring her back to her senses. The increasing waves of pain were only the first stage, but in her state, Ro didn't care about the pain that was making her nauseous or the future consequence.

She. Wanted. OUT!

She stumbled through the darkness. Her hip hit the edge of a table. More people were screaming now, infected by the fear she was radiating. Their fear, in turn, only agitated her already terrorized state.

A warm body intercepted her and grabbed her by the arms. "Stop!"

Dimly, Ro recognized the voice of the host.

But she didn't stop. She tried to push him out of the way and their legs got tangled. Together, they fell, hitting something hard and metallic and turning it over as well. The cloying scent of fried meat and sweet sauce hit her nose. Her elbow and knee hit the edge of the trolley they'd fallen over, causing Ro's stomach to turn over. She tried to catch herself and her hand slipped in a tangle of warm kiwip grass. The host was breathing hard, muttering under his breath as he tried to get up, while at the same time, trying to hold Ro down.

The lights turned on as suddenly as they'd gone off, just as the mind-block slammed Ro with an emetic burst of pain and locking her muscles in place, trapping her within her own body.

She gasped as the lights hit her eyes, unable to even so much as blink with the mind-block in control. The glare caused more tears to emerge and bright spots flashed across her vision. Then the mind-block released her and she could breathe again, turning her face away from the lights.

The lights.

Ro blinked and realized she was lying on her side, her legs hanging off the edge a food trolley.

Her throat and eyes burned and her heart was still beating unsteadily in her chest. She wet her lips and tasted salt and tangy citrus.

The Miraluka sat up with a groan, holding the small of his back. His black headband had slid off his face, revealing the vestigial eye sockets beneath. A bruise was beginning to form on his left cheek and his white and grey uniform had been turned into a rainbow display of food and drink stains.

Ro moved her legs off the trolley, noting she was growing some impressive bruises of her own and her left eye was swelling from where the server had clipped her with her elbow. But those memories were dim, almost fuzzy in the aftermath of her terror. Her right hand was still clenching and unclenching frantically, as if ready to pull her along the carpet if need be. Anything to get away from the dark. Anything.

The adrenaline rushing through her body caused Ro to shiver.

As she moved into a sitting position, something warm and liquid slid down the back of her dress. Instinctively, Ro reached up, ignoring the twinge in her arm. Her hair was wet as well, tangled and there was the distinctive sweet smell of gannesa juice. She must have overturned an entire sauceboat, because the carpet beneath her was also wet.

Now that the panic was slowly beginning to ease, Ro could, for the first time, take in the chaos she'd caused with any real comprehension.

The trolley she and the host had stumbled into had been stacked high with this day's dish, in case someone wanted seconds. Now she and the Miraluka sat in a growing, wet mess of gannesa juice, tangled piles of kiwip grass and shards of broken glass and porceplast. A bantha steak lay in her lap, then slid off when she moved her legs, leaving behind a large, reddish-brown stain. In fact, her whole dress was stained, the original blue almost overshadowed by patches of green, red and darker blue in areas where she'd spilled nothing worse over herself than water and more Almakian apple juice. The mixed furor of scents threatened to cause her stomach to revolt and Ro pushed her tongue between her teeth to keep from throwing up and adding to the mess.

Beyond their little disaster area was a sea of stunned faces.

The servers and guests were pale-faced, some craning their necks to get a better view. A few broken glasses lined Ro's stumbling escape route and retracing the path of destruction, she could see Cloude and their server. The woman was being helped back onto her feet by a fellow server. Cloude was staring at her, open-mouthed, his normally dreamy eyes wide with shock and incomprehension.

The silence in the restaurant was oppressive, the air laden with stunned shock, surprise and the bewilderment of people trying to decide whether to laugh or offer aid.

A woman suddenly tittered and the emotional feel of the room shifted abruptly from dumbfounded to a cutting mix of embarrassed and amused. It cut Ro to the quick and hot tears ran down her splattered cheeks. With a sob, Ro jumped unsteadily to her feet and ran out of the restaurant, Cloude following behind, trying to call her name and not quite succeeding.

They didn't talk on the way back to Odd Ends.

Cloude had draped his light jacket over Ro's shoulder, partly hiding her disheveled appearance from the people walking through the lovely illuminated streets of the artisan district.

She was horribly aware of the light spatter of dark stains on one of the jacket's sleeves. When their server had dropped her tray, most of the remaining load had landed on Ro and the floor, but sauce and some of the complementary drinks had splashed onto Cloude. She tried not to look at those stains. Every time she did, fresh tears of humiliation emerged from eyes that were already reddened and sore from crying.

At least Cloude would be able to save his clothes after a good washing. Ro's blue dress was ruined beyond a chance of saving. The thought of explaining her bedraggled state to Eda turned her feet to lead and Ro was seriously toying with the idea of running off to some quiet spot in the plains and waiting until the earth opened up and swallowed her whole. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been more mortified than back in that restaurant, with all eyes on her and hearing that strange woman titter helplessly.

So much for her first date ever. It was probably her last and right now, Ro was stellar with that.

She never wanted to see another drop of gannesa juice in her life.

Cloude didn't try to cheer her up. He was disappointed that his surprise hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped, but Ro was too exhausted and numb to figure out if there was more behind the disappointment; like anger, for having shamed him like that in front of a room full of strangers, in a restaurant owned by his father's friend. She didn't want to know. Ro wouldn't blame him if he was angry with her, but knowing would most undoubtedly break through the numbing barrier that was holding her emotions in check and turn her into a miserable, useless heap of tears right here on the open street.

He walked her all the way to the door, though; a gesture that normally would have earned him a beaming smile.

They stood awkwardly together on the front stoop, neither one quite knowing what to say.

Ro didn't want to say anything at all. She just wanted to get inside, have a shower, crawl into bed and bawl her eyes out until exhaustion finally pulled her under. She didn't even crave a cookie as a going-to-bed snack.

"Well." Cloude shifted from foot-to-foot, looking about as awkward as a two-legged tooka cat in a race for the cheese with a clawmouse.

Why doesn't he just leave? she wondered tiredly, then realized she was still wearing his jacket. Of course. He wanted his jacket back and was trying to figure out a polite way to say so, without referring to the catastrophe they'd left behind in The Dark Room. Wordlessly, Ro shrugged the jacket off of her shoulders and handed it to him.

"Here," she said dully and turned to open the door.

"Roweena."

She glanced back at him and he leaned in to kiss her, sliding his lips chastely over hers.

They were so soft.

Her heart skipped several beats. Breathing was no longer possible, because she'd forgotten how. Her face grew warm and when he pulled back, she saw that Cloude's ears were also red-tinged. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she answered and found her voice was hoarse. Her head was swimming and not with pain.

He took a step back, jacket clutched in one hand. "We...We'll see each other tomorrow?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

He was the sweetest Bespin cloud-candy, light and pink and filling her head with a heady rush of sugar. Her feet turned from heavy lead to pure weightlessness and she fully expected to float away into the star-filled sky at any moment. "D-day after tomorrow," she managed to breathe out and he nodded before turning away and going back home.

Eda had ensconced herself in the living room, watching a holovid on the viewscreen when Ro appeared.

She gaped at the dripping mess the pretty girl from this afternoon had turned into. Her hair...Her dress...

"What happened?" she demanded, for once too shocked to hold on to her iron discipline.

Ro let out a long sigh and slipped her sandals off, rubbing at her bruised knees. "Utter humiliation," she said. Then she raised two fingers to lips that still tingled from Cloude's kiss and a little, wondering smile lit her tired, red-cheeked face. "And a kiss."