She fell asleep in his arms. That simple, immutable fact kept Boba awake long after she started snoring softly.
Beyond that, he couldn't say what was the most surprising. There were too many moments, too many revelations vying for the top position. The hunger in her eyes when she touched him. The way she kissed him as if she wanted to own him, body and soul. The way her mouth fell open when she orgasmed and finally the way she curled up against his side, warm and content and fell asleep.
Fierfek didn't go far enough. There wasn't a curseword in the galaxy strong enough to describe it.
He realized now that what they'd been doing was only a pale imitation. This was sex the way people described it, the way they longed for it and made fekkingstupid mistakes because of it.
It wasn't until she stirred and rolled over, hunting sleepily for her pillow, that he relaxed enough to fall asleep.
In the morning the bed still smelled like sex and oil. Leia had tidied up the room before she left. She had gathered up their scattered clothes and left his sleeping pants folded neatly at his feet. He put them on and followed the smell of toasting bread to the kitchen.
Ben was sitting at the table, eating his toast with fruit preserves. He looked at Boba and then looked at his mother, chewing noisily. Leia put a piece of toast on a plate and handed it to him without meeting his eyes. It was awkward. Why was it awkward?
He sat down at the table and reached for the preserves. Ben picked up his own plate and moved one chair over to sit next to him. "Today's my off day," he announced with his mouth half-full. "Can you stay too?"
"I have to work. But not right away." He glanced over at Leia again, but she was fixing her own toast, her eyes on her task.
At least Ben seemed settled and content, compared the night before. While Leia was gone, her son had stood by the window watching for her, his fists clenching and unclenching. Not knowing what to say or how to reassure him, Boba tried to keep him distracted by letting him play with a spare targeting scope.
"I like swords better than blasters," Ben said at one point. "My shaapkad is okay, but someday I want a real lightsaber like Uncle Luke has."
According to the galactic bounty postings, Luke Skywalker's current status was unknown. No one could confirm if the Jedi was alive or dead.
When he clocked in at the base, several of the other guards said it was nice to have met his family. "That's a fine boy you've got," the base commander Luna Turek told him.
"Yup. He is."
"Your wife wasn't what I expected," another one of the guards said in a playful way. "She talks like she went one of those schools that has a coat of arms on everything."
"She probably did."
"Haar'chak. She must hate it here."
"She's educated. Not soft." He thought about her hands on his arms. Soft, yes, but strong. Her nails left marks on his skin, and it wasn't accidental.
"Fett." Brevar, one of other rotation guards waved a datapad at him. "We're signing up to cover Kenk's shift so he can go offworld to see his husband. You in?"
Kenk was an interior guard. One with access to the database. "Sure." Boba took the datapad from him, but Commander Turek grimaced and shook her head.
"You're not trained for that. Interior monitors are supposed to have level four clearances, and you can't get that without legal residency."
"Oh c'mon," Brevar countered. "We had Jruii on the comms almost a year before he was level four cleared."
"You want to answer to Rau if he finds out?" Turek clearly wasn't going to take a chance with him. "Get your papers first. I'll train you myself."
When his shift ended, he returned to the house. For the first time the lights were off. Leia had gone to bed. Could she be angry with him? He had, after all, compared having sex with her to fucking a corpse. She must be angry with him. It was asolutely fekking ridiculous how shitty that made him feel.
Then again, maybe it wasn't ridiculous. They were partners in this operation, and petty interpersonal issues could cause serious problems. It was one of the main reasons he usually worked alone. Making things right was the smart thing to do, even if it meant groveling a little.
He undressed and climbed into bed beside her. She was curled up on her side with her back to him, but her breathing stuttered when he leaned over her.
"You're back," she mumbled, curling up a little tighter.
"I owe you an apology."
"For...what?"
"For what I said last night. Comparing you to a corpse. It was rude and insulting and I apologize."
"Oh." She pulled herself up on one elbow and looked back over her shoulder at him, blinking sleepily. "Thank you. I accept your apology."
"And you're right," he continued. "I don't know what it's like for you. I don't know how to make it easier, or if you even karking want me to try. But last night…" he spoke carefully, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "It was different. Was it easier?"
Leia rolled over onto her back, her eyes on the ceiling. "Yes. It was easier."
"I don't like being held down. But it makes it better for you-"
"Oh. No, if you don't like it then I won't do it again." She turned her head toward him, her expression rueful. "It wasn't really that. It was...the passion of the moment. We've never even kissed before."
His pulse picked up at the thought of her mouth, warm and slick against his. "I liked that."
"I did too." She sighed and resumed gazing up at the ceiling. "But I don't know if I want to do it again. I don't know if it's a good idea."
He moved down, laying his head down on his pillow with his body turned towards her. "Is there something else I can do?" His hand slipped the blanket and found the soft skin of her thigh. "Can I touch you?"
Leia put her hand over his, trapping it through the blankets. "Yes, but not tonight." She gave him a pained smile. "I'm bleeding."
"You're-" It took him a second to realize what she meant.
She lifted her hand from his. "We have another cycle. I didn't really expect us to conceive immediately."
But she hoped. "You didn't have this problem with Solo."
Her brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"You had a child with him. I'm…If there's a problem, odds are, it's me."
"I think it's a little too soon to call it a problem." She hesitated for a second. "Did you ever have a scare? With a girlfriend or-"
"There were no girlfriends. And no 'or.'"
"No 'or?' That makes it sound like-" She stopped suddenly and pulled herself up on her elbow. "Wait. Please don't tell me I was your first."
According to her request, he remained silent.
"No," she said, visibly distressed. "That was your first time? In Sundari, with the porn and the tihaar?"
"You asked me not to say it," he reminded her.
"Oh kriffing hell." Her head returned to her pillow with a soft thump.
"Why does it matter?"
"I don't know, I would have…" She spread her hands and then let them drop to the blanket. "Can I ask why you waited this long?"
"I was never married."
Her dark brows arched and her lips formed a perfect, silent "oh."
"That's how my dad raised me. Sex is part of the contract of marriage. Mhi solus tome. We are one together."
"I didn't realize that was a...literal translation."
"It's a very literal language."
Her lips pressed together, her expression contemplative. "It just seems so restrictive, especially in a society that places so much value on independence."
Boba shrugged.
"There must have been women you wanted to have sex with."
"A few women. And a few men. But no one I wanted to marry." He shifted, stretching out on his back. "It keeps things simple. In my line of work, the kind of people I deal with...it can be hard to tell if people like you or if they want something from you."
"Sounds a little like politics."
" Fek no. Not nearly as dangerous." He gave her a quick smirk and was pleased when she smiled back.
"So...when you said Tristan Wren was attractive…"
"Are you asking me if I'd fuck Tristan Wren?"
"Would you?"
He gave her a look of mock sternness. "Only if we were married. Weren't you paying attention?"
She held up her hands, palms out. A gesture of surrender. "I guess," she said after a moment of contemplation, "what we're doing is not really out of the ordinary by Mandalorian standards. We have an agreement to work together, to live together, to sleep together. But what happens when we no longer want to do those things?"
"It there's no agreement, there's no marriage."
"And if that agreement included trying some different things in bed, that wouldn't necessarily change anything."
Boba heard what she was saying loud and clear. "I don't see why it would."
"Okay." She exhaled slowly and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm willing to try it. It was nice. No, that's not the right word. It was great. It felt great."
She said it so emphatically, as if "great" was less a descriptor and more a statement of purpose. Great was the goal. But great would require practice. Patience. Hands-on training. He watched her hand fall back to the blankets and thought about her strong, slender fingers. Stroking him. Spread over his chest. Tight on his arms as she moved with him. How much blood are we talking about here?
"Maybe I owe you an apology as well," Leia continued. "If I pushed you into something you weren't comfortable with, I'm truly sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"And I appreciate your openness. And your...professionalism." She smiled at him again. "Good night, Boba."
"Good night."
She rolled over and settled onto her pillow with a sigh. Within minutes her shoulders were rising falling steadily.
But once again, Boba was unable to fall asleep.
