Again I am playing in the story of Dark Journey by Elaine Cunningham. Some of the lines are directly from pages 184-188 of the book, but I am only dabbling the master's world. Jag demands to be heard and understood.
SQUEAKY CLEAN
Jag hurried along the flight deck, dodging fighter hulls, technicians and droids with the practiced ease of a man familiar with the workings of such an area. His thoughts were definitely not on where he was going, but rather what he hoped to achieve. While he was on Hapes, Jag was determined to offer as much assistance as possible. To that end, he had agreed to function as a squadron leader for scouting patrols. In that capacity he would be able to educate and grow a new batch of pilots in the hope they would become productive members of the resistance to the Yuuzhan Vong invasion.
It was under this pretense that Jag had decided to offer Jaina a position in his squadron. She was obviously set on seeing an end to this conflict, and his squadron could offer her exactly this opportunity. He knew she was no longer an active member of Rogue Squadron, but Vanguards could definitely use her skill. An added bonus came in the fact that numerous chances to interact and get to know Jaina would present themselves during the coming weeks, if she was to agree to join the squadron.
Jag found the stairs leading to the observation deck overlooking the captured Yuuzhan Vong frigate. He climbed the stairs, but stopped when he noticed the Hapan royals gathered at the top. He dipped into a low bow.
"Your pardon, I came seeking Tenel Ka. The captain of the guard sent me here."
Ta'a Chume's gaze raked down the length of his body, with a desirous gleam that would have caused a lesser man to squirm. Jag held his body firm, not fearing the former queen's scrutiny. She then looked to her granddaughter with some disdain and remarked.
"I suppose you've made arrangements to fly off somewhere. You seldom see fit to grace Hapes with your presence for more than a few days."
Jag felt awkward for offering the former queen a reason to spew caustic remarks at her own granddaughter. He intervened on the Hapan princess's behalf. "I was hoping, Your Majesty, that Tenel Ka might be able to help me find Jaina. I am recruiting pilots to help scout this sector."
Ta'a Chume pointed to the frigate below. Braying yelps of Wookie laughter wafted from the open vessel, followed by a female voice raised in a string of imaginative curses.
"It's well that you've had combat experience," she said in a dry tone. She raised one hand in a peremptory hail to catch the nearest guard's attention, then pointed first to Jag and then to the Yuuzhan Vong ship. The guard snapped a salute, his fist touching his temple.
"Good luck," she told Jag before making a little gesture of dismissal.
Jag bowed again and left promptly. His feet moved swiftly down the stairs in eager anticipation of seeing Jaina once more. Their time together at the state dinner had proven to be the focal point of his thoughts for the past couple of days. Most of the formal affair had gone better than Jag could have hoped, with Jaina intimating to future romantic possibility by succumbing to his compliment with a hint of a blush. Then, she had willingly joined Jag in an attempt to escape the party and explore the palace.
If the former queen had not interrupted, Jag could only wonder where the night would have led. No, that was not fair for him to say. If it were not Ta'a Chume, Kyp Durron would have arrived not much later to escort Jaina to the funeral. Time and circumstance had conspired against them that night, but Jaina had given him an incentive to pursue his desires. Their time together that evening was doomed to be short, but Jag was determined to insert himself firmly in Jaina Solo's life, one way or another, and based on her reaction at the dinner, he did not imagine Jaina would be too opposed to the prospect. As a matter of fact, he was certain she would jump at the chance to fly with him.
The guards parted to allow Jag access to the ship. He walked up the ramp, a simple incline similar in design to that of most frigate-class ships, but there all similarity ended. The alien vessel looked more like an asteroid than like any ship he had ever seen. Jag placed a tentative hand on the hull. The surface was as rough and irregular as the coral reefs in the oceans of Rhigar 3, the near-tropical blue moon that circled the Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo training academy.
Jag could not imagine how the Yuuzhan Vong had coaxed a colony of tiny creatures into forming a space-going vessel. It was said that these ships were alive, almost sentient. Jag began to wonder about the mechanics of operating such a ship but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind to focus on the task at hand. He cautiously tapped on the hull.
The response was immediate and vehement. Jaina burst into view, her pretty face marred by the contortions usually associated with frustration. She stopped short when she saw him and stood framed in the open portal, her hands braced against the sides.
The sight of her caught Jag by surprise, and he could not avert his gaze from staring at the mishap in the making called Jaina Solo. She was liberally daubed with pale green gel from head to toe. A splotch ran from the tip of her nose to her right cheek. A general splatter rested on her left shoulder. Most noticeable though was the gel oozing down her hair, leaving several wisps standing up in shining spikes.
Jag finally gathered enough of his wits off the floor to speak. "I have come at a bad time."
"That depends," she retorted. "If you're interested in having a shower, you're in luck. There's one on this ship and I just figured out how to start it."
To himself Jag thought, Jaina in the shower, I like the sound of that. "Ah," he observed randomly as a tempting vision flashed before his eyes.
The swirl of the misting steam rose in a constant supply from the hot spray of the showerhead. Jag peered through the mists at the vision before him. Her head tilted back and water ran down the length of her hair, which seemed more of a dark chocolate wet than the milk chocolate when it was dry. The rivulets of water streamed along tendrils until their trip ended, and they were forced to change to a random path along the smoothness of her white skin.
Jaina brought her hands up to rub shampoo into her wet scalp. As her fingers worked between the strands of hair, Jag marveled at the movement of her sleek shoulder muscles under the surface of her skin. Her body was perfectly sculpted with not even a hint of excess fat to conceal the underlying strength. The outline of her shoulder blades begged him to trace the sensuous edges as they moved until he could almost feel the ridge under his fingertips.
As her hands formed tantalizing circular motions across her bubbling hair, Jag walked closer still, drawn in by the need to touch what must be a piece of heaven. More of her perfect body came into view as the dense steam formed a weaker barrier, and his eyes trailed down the outline of her spine, each vertebrae defined, across the seductive arch of the curve in her back to the small dimple over…
"…the last thing you need is more spit and polish. And when I say 'spit' you have no idea how literally I'm speaking."
The abrupt nature of her comment jolted Jag out of the daydream that had flashed before his eyes and quickly cooled the flames of desire licking up at his insides, as if he had been dropped in a cool mountain pond just after a thaw. Her words were certainly not in the same receptive frame as a few nights before, but in true Chiss fashion, he refrained from showing any hint of the underlying emotion boiling below the surface.
"And what is it, precisely, that I do need?"
His icy tone fanned the flame, heated by anger and definitely not passion, burning in Jaina's eyes. "You tell me. You're the one who's barging in here and interrupting my work."
"I came to offer you a ship, and a place in the Vanguard Squadron."
"Thanks," she said flatly, "but I've got a ship. It just needs a few adjustments."
Jag had few dealings with human women, especially ones as headstrong as Jaina, but he operated under the assumption her pride would need some wooing to get her to admit the hunk of coral they were standing inside was not worthy of her flying skills. He raked her body with his eyes; the sight of the green gel laced across her body randomly, now causing some parts of her jumpsuit to cling to her skin, softened his demeanor instantly. The switch in his moods over the last several seconds was somewhat disarming, but Jag flowed with the steering currents in undeniable Fel fashion.
"And how is that going?" he inquired politely.
Her chin came up defiantly. "Great. No problems."
Fierce brown eyes dared him to contradict her. He gazed into them, mesmerized by the simple changes in highlights that danced around her irises. Suddenly, the challenge was not a contradiction, but some mutual understanding. The yellow flecks darkened to a deep amber reminiscent of his father's best Corellian brandy. He had mistaken her initial rejection; there was only need residing in the depths of her soul, radiating out at him through those dark orbs.
Without a thought, Jag found himself drowning and reached out to Jaina to steady himself. His right hand skimmed her cheek, coming to rest with his fingers curled in her hair and his thumb resting on the pulse point of her neck. Before she could utter a protest, Jag stifled it with his lips pressed firmly into hers. This was unlike the daydream earlier. She was real, and palpable, and wet, and all too warm.
Jaina's mouth, already parted in a muffled response, accepted his tongue as it flicked tentatively across her teeth. Jag could make out every smooth contour and ripple as he tasted the minty flavor between the upper and lower rows of enamel. Unsure of his own brazen reaction, Jag began to retreat when Jaina threw her arms around his neck, drawing him back to her.
Jag attacked this time; there was nothing tentative as his tongue danced with hers, only to be forced back by her own advances. The taste of her passion was all-consuming, until the press of her body from chest down to his hips seared into his consciousness. The green liquid permeated through his own clothes, drawing the heat from her body to his like a conduit. A heat so alive it radiated an electric charge Jag could only define as the raw fire of passion. He was almost too painfully aware of every inch of her form touching him, but that did not stop Jag from kissing Jaina.
A need for air separated their lips momentarily, at which time Jag changed the angle of his kiss. He used the thumb of his free hand to wipe away a glob of gel from near her ear. When he sensed the tension the simple action caused through the bond of their kiss, Jag proceeded to drag the warm fluid along with his thumb, down her jaw line, under her chin and across the front of her neck.
His mouth left her mouth, dragging his teeth along her lower lip first, and he laid a trail of kisses using his tongue and moist lips and sometimes his teeth to create the path. She tasted utterly delicious, and the subtle trace of her soap or body lotion filled his nostrils completely. Jag was completely lost to the temptation to devour Jaina whole. Jaina's goo-covered fingers, which had left his neck at some point, tickled in ripples through his dark hair. The sensation ripped down his scalp, and Jag bit her neck, before he used his tongue to sooth the spot.
Jaina moaned, "Jag…"
The sound was not one of ecstasy though. She sounded more annoyed. Jag panicked; maybe he had bitten her too hard. He did not know; he had never done something so brazen any other time with a female.
"Jag, did you hear me? I said – Great. No problems."
The moment that had at once appeared too real was suddenly too unattainable. Jaina was not in his arms, his uniform was still squeaky clean, and she was more annoyed than before by his apparent lack of attention.
"Yes, I am sorry. I expected you to expound. In the CEDF, we are usually more explicit than 'Great. No problems.'"
An awkward silence passed between them before Jag realized he had nothing to gain and only a huge chunk of his pride to lose by staying any longer. He would get further with Jaina at this rate by beating his head against the coral hull until he passed out cold at her feet. It was not hard to tell she was as anxious for him to leave as he was to take her in his arms and make his vision a reality.
"I should leave you to your work."
"Fine. Good. You do that."
Jag inclined his head in a curt farewell before pivoting smartly on his heel. His stride, although as quick as on his arrival, lacked some of its lightness. As a matter of fact, every step further from Jaina felt like the dimming of some great hope. Jag Fel knew himself to be a fair-haired fool, taken in by a pretty face – a pretty face that had rendered his faculties useless. The only thing left for Jag to do was take a cold shower and forget the likes of Jaina Solo, forever.
**********
So there it is. You can see I added a little extra dialogue to suit my purpose, but I always thought there was something else going on during that "Ah." Now you know.