Author's Note: So, there seem to be two camps when it comes to this chapter. Most seem to like the thrust of the last chapter but some feel that I've got both the Imperial Agent and Malavai completely OOC and that basically this has turned into a smutfest, a la Game of Thrones. While part of me is secretly ecstatic to even be compared to one of my favorite shows, I'm not sure that I agree with this assessment. I've played, as has my husband, a Sith Warrior all the way through. I think we both understand the Sith Warrior and his/her companions. That being said, I warned everyone that I was going into the realm of smut. I want to reiterate this—if smut is not your cup of tea or if you are too young to read this, go back now and turn off the "M" option for fanfic and stop reading this story. I have other stories that aren't M so you can read something of mine that won't burn your brain, if you like. When last we left our fearless spies, they were in a bathtub. Thank you, especially to Aela Darkstar—your comments gave me the confidence to finish this chapter. As always, if you like it or if you have suggestions how I can make it better, please review or PM me. I am still compulsive about responding. Now, again, on with the show. And, yes, I still know I'm going to Hell for what I'm doing to these poor characters.

Disclaimer: See chapter One. I still own nothing and am making no profits from this story.

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Chapter Nine: Games Grown Ups Play (Part 2)

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It had finally come to this. All of the teasing, the innuendo, the subtle hints and blatant invitations over the past ten years—it had all culminated in this. Caer gasped as Malavai gently nibbled on the column of her throat, her fingers spasmodically clenching Quinn's shoulders. Under the water, she felt his hands sliding over her soap-slicked frame, following the line of her spine down to her ass and lifting her onto his lap as if she weighed nothing. Her head fell back with a gasp as she felt all of him pressed against her. And, oh, it was even better than she had ever imagined.

"Caer, I don't want an out," he murmured, his hands cupping her heavy breasts, thumbs stroking the coral tips as he spoke. "And I expect you to hold up your end of that promise." He smirked at her as he lowered his head to one rose-tipped breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth.

Caer's head fell back against the rim of the tub, eyes fluttering shut as she processed what was going on. She'd tried to be a good girl—given him an out that had almost killed her to offer. And he chose to stay. He was still there.

Oh, he was definitely there, some part of her brain cackled. She could feel him pressing against her belly, firm and hot and begging for her attention. Her hand dipped down, fingertips trailing from the flared head to the nest of soft black at the root of him. Slender fingers closed, oh so gently over the root of him. She knew him to be well-endowed (playing nurse while he'd been knocked out had proven that quite effectively) and the surge of power she got at the gasp he gave nearly drove her over the edge. Oh, she smirked, he was sensitive. She gave him a gentle squeeze before she started stroking him, enjoying the play of silk over molten steel beneath her fingers.

"Keep that up and we won't last long," warned Quinn, eyes narrowing as her nipple popped from his mouth. His hips moved in time with her strokes, filling the tub with rippling waves that splashed water onto the floor.

Caer giggled, shifting on his lap. "Malavai, we have all night." She leaned forward, capturing his mouth with her own. "This is just round one."

Malavai fixed her with an assessing gaze as he pulled back from the kiss. She got the feeling that he was considering her with the same intensity as a tactical problem. He'd always been good at tactics, she remembered. "You know the old saying," he muttered, his own hand sliding down between her thighs. He found her, impossibly hot and wet even in the water, and stroked the cleft between her thighs with determination. "To the victor go the spoils."

Caer squeaked as he entered her with his finger, the digit corkscrewing inside her and hitting all the right places. That was…unfair. Her own stroking of him faltered as she felt him add first one, then two additional fingers to that first clever digit pumping within her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did it was higher pitched than normal. "Are we at war?" She squeaked, shutting her eyes, when Malavai pressed his thumb against her clit.

Quinn chuckled, kissing her lips as he felt her start to shudder around his fingers. "Did anyone tell you that you talk too much, Caer?"

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Si'na gasped, straining for breath against the gloved hand pressed to his throat. "Mal, come on."

Quinn's grim face showed no sign of patience or mercy. "What did you slip me, Hiram?" He tightened his grip on his old "friend's" throat. When he'd woken less than an hour before, he'd found his naked body wrapped around an equally naked and sated Caer. The evidence of their activities was clear, as were his memories. And that was the problem.

Si'na's fingers scrabbed at Quinn in a frenzy. "Look, buddy, it just looked like you needed a little help getting started." He drew in a ragged breath as Quinn finally released him, collapsing on the floor against the wall. Si'na looked up at the dark haired man with squinting rheumy eyes. "Besides, it just lowers inhibitions. You're not gonna do anything you weren't gonna do already."

Quinn growled, drawing his blaster. He wanted to kill him. He really, really wanted to. "Why?"

Si'na shrugged. The copper-haired man figured that if he was going to die then there wasn't much that he could do about it. "Why not?"

Quinn shook his head in disgust, holstering his blaster. The ex-Imperial wasn't worth it. "We're done, Hiram."

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"I owe you an apology. I will understand if you cannot work with me any longer."

Caer groaned into the pillow, shaking her head. This was officially turning into a bad dream. And it had started with such promise. Blinking her eyes open, she met the earnest and contrite gaze of Malavai Quinn. "Oh, wonderful. The guilt has set in." She sat up, the sheets pooling at her waist.

Malavai quickly turned so that his back was to the bed, a blush sweeping over his cheeks at her nakedness. "You might want to get dressed."

Caer frowned, slinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pulling on the discarded robe from the night before. A delicious ache reminded her of each and every act from the night before and she shivered at the feel of the robe on her skin. "You owe me nothing, Malavai." She stomped to stand in front of the older man, noting that he had his eyes focused on the wall. "Well, nothing other than an explanation for this about-face." She drew a breath, arms crossed over her breasts. "I think I'm owed that much."

Quinn dropped his gaze down to meet hers, hurt in his blue eyes. "I wasn't myself last night. Hiram slipped me something—something that—"

"I'm going to kill him," murmured Caer, already going towards her gear.

Quinn caught her arm with his hand, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Because last night never happened. Not really. The man who was with you last night wasn't me. Not really."

Caer swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. "Right. Of course." She continued on towards her gear and grabbed her clothes. "While I was with Juda last night she was laying out an invitation from the Hutt Cartel to work with them to secure something called Isotope 5." She took a steadying breath, glad that Quinn could only see her back. "I'm to meet a Hutt on a pleasure barge on Nar Shadaa in two days to firm up the details." She turned back to look at Quinn, her face schooled into a serene mask.

Quinn nodded. "I'll make travel arrangements for us."

Caer shook her head. "No. I'll continue on alone, Malavai." She stepped closer to him, kissing him on the cheek, the act as much a goodbye as any other. "It was good to see you, Mal. Thank you. I couldn't have gotten this far without you." She stepped into the refresher room, her clothes bundled to her chest, and closed the door.

Quinn was surprised that the soft shutting of the door sounded so final.

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