"I'm fine, Mission, stop fussing!" Kirre's voice floated from the medical bay of the Ebon Hawk. Canderous, who was working on the swoop bike in the swoop hangar, muffled a snicker.
"Well, if you wouldn't do such stupid things, me and Big Z wouldn't have to worry so much!" the higher voice of the Twi'lek teenager retorted.
There were rustling sounds, as of someone getting dressed, and then Kirre, wearing a grey Jedi robe and sporting a synth-bandage across one temple, trotted out into the swoop hangar.
She hesitated for a moment, and Canderous jerked a thumb towards the off-ramp. She flashed him a grin and headed out.
He sincerely hoped, for Carth's sake, that the pilot didn't do anything to disappoint her.
***
Kirre saw his booted feet first, sticking out from under the hyperdrive. The lifter swayed slightly as a hand emerged and accepted a spanner from T3-M4, who was whirring as if this was the most fun it had had all week.
Come to think of it, it probably was, she reflected. She started to reach out, and then hesitated as a sudden wave of shyness overwhelmed her. He'd saved her life, after all, and before that, he'd shown her his heart.
And a few other interesting parts of himself, too, she thought, surprising herself with her own archness.
It's Carth, for crying out loud, she told herself, he's saved your life before. Yeah, a wayward part of her mind responded, but he never held you in his arms before and meant it.
She reached out and gave his foot a playful push.
A muffled yelp followed by the sound of a head striking the bottom of a space cruiser made her wince. He caught the underside of the Hawk with both hands and used it as leverage to push the lifter out from under the ship.
"Thanks a lot," Carth said sourly, rubbing his forehead, where a pale red mark was fading.
Kirre found the shyness tripping her up again. She told herself she was being ridiculous - he was the same person he was two days ago, as was she. Of course, two days ago she'd thought he hated her, or at the best, thought her useless and dangerous.
And he hadn't seen her naked, either.
He looked over at her, and the expression of irritation faded. The silence seemed to stretch into infinity, and he finally sighed, jamming a hand through his hair. The spiky lock that she found so endearing fell back against his forehead, almost into his eyes, as if he hadn't even tried.
She'd noticed, the night before, that his eyes matched his hair almost exactly. They were both a warm, rich chestnut. She suddenly remembered the look in his eyes, inches from her own, as their bodies moved in union.
"Stop looking at me like that," he said, and she blinked.
"Like what?" Kirre could feel a flush rising into her cheeks.
"Like I'm some white knight here to rescue you or something," he said, his tone derisive, and she felt her cheeks flame even hotter.
She started to deny it, and then stopped.
"I can't help it," she said finally, honestly. She owed him a lot more than honesty. "You saved my life out there. Again."
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," he said dismissively, but she continued, the words slow and uneven, as if she were groping for exactly the right ones.
"It isn't just that," she said, and he froze.
"I don't remember much about my life before the Ender Spire, and I don't know if I ever," she hesitated for a moment, "really cared about anyone before."
She raised her eyes to meet his. "All I have is right now," she said, "And I want my now to be with you." She held his eyes with her own, and the utter lack of defenses within them hurt his heart.
He was the first to look away.
"It wouldn't work out between us, Frost," he said, hating himself. "You're a Jedi, and I don't trust Jedi. End of story." He swung his feet around off the lifter, turning his back to her.
"So that's all I am to you, a Jedi?" she asked after a long silence, her voice controlled again, her emotions masked. He shrugged his shoulders, then stepped down from the lifter.
"You can't deny how you feel," she said flatly, but her voice trembled ever so slightly. "The things you said to me while we were-" She swallowed hard. "I know those weren't lies."
He turned around to look at her.
"I meant them at the time," he said coldly, and she winced as if he'd hit her. Anger flared in her eyes, turning them to green flame, and he waited for her to say something cruel and walk away from him forever.
Abruptly, the anger fled, and he felt like screaming. Why did she have to be so damn understanding, so damn patient? He didn't need her help, and he didn't need her pity, and he definitely didn't need her.
"You wouldn't give up on me," she said softly. "I won't give up on you." It was a promise that seemed to echo in the hangar as she walked away.
As the hangar doors closed behind her, T3-M4 gave a plaintive beep, and he scowled at it. "It's better this way," he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "It wouldn't have worked out anyway."
The droid's next beep sounded a lot like a derisive snort.