A/N: This story occurs a few months after the events of my early short piece, Hiding, after the Exile has left on the Ebon Hawk. Atton owns his own ship as of this story: a light freighter, a little smaller than the Ebon Hawk. His acquisition of this ship will be detailed in a forthcoming story.


Mira was not an elegant sleeper. She sprawled across the bunk, the blankets tangled around her and pulled off on one side, revealing tantalizing hints of bare skin. She slept in her underwear, too, which meant there was a lot of skin to be bare.

Atton couldn't help but look; he was only human, and it wasn't as if she didn't advertise anyway, with the plunging neckline and tight pants that she normally favored. But most of that was artifice, an act she put on to distract people from the real Mira. Here and now, she was natural, vulnerable, and imperfect. He found this side of the former bounty hunter even more attractive than her usual tough girl attitude. Too bad she was so grating when she was awake.

He plopped down onto the bunk directly across from Mira's and watched her for a moment. They were alone in the room, and for that much, he was thankful. If his new ship had any faults at all, it was the fact that it only had one dormitory set aside for crew quarters. He could have made himself a pallet in the cargo hold if he really wanted to, but Bao-Dur always seemed to be working on something in there. Besides, it was his ship. He wasn't going to be denied his own bed just because Mira was in here, looking so... damn...

She shifted again in her sleep. The blanket moved in the opposite direction, dropping a little further from her lithe form. With a groan, Atton rolled over to face the wall, trying to get his mind off of her – or more importantly, what he wanted to do to her. The distance between their bunks seemed like miles - miles that Atton wanted desperately to traverse. He wanted to lay down next to her and kiss that white skin, tear at her scanty clothes like a starving man, lose himself in her body for a few precious hours. Between prison, running around trying to save the galaxy, and his newfound Jedi training, it had been entirely too long since he'd been with a woman.

He tried to play pazaak in his head, to get his mind off of it, but his defense mechanism had already seized onto this particular lust, and added it to his catalog. Closing his eyes didn't help; on the contrary, it made the images clearer.

If he thought he would be welcome in her bed, he might have taken the gamble. But this distance was one Atton could not cross. It was haunted by the specter of a man, a man he thought she loved. His friend. His teacher. His redeemer.

The man who'd brought them all together and then abandoned them to find their own way.

The thought was unfair. He knew that there had not been any choice. But sometimes, Atton felt like they were left behind because they weren't good enough to help the Exile. Like they were a burden.

He would never say a word, though. It wasn't his style. This was a hand best played close to the vest. Just like everything else. Don't let 'em see your cards, and you've always got the advantage.

The other bed creaked again. Atton's overactive imagination filled in details of Mira's movements just from the sound. Maybe she was shifting position again, the blanket dropping away from more of her soft skin. Or maybe she was coming over here. Or maybe she was going to...

He heaved a great, shuddering sigh. This was shaping up to be another sleepless night. The thought of spending some quality time in the refresher under a stream of cold water suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

He couldn't help but glance over at her as he rolled out of bed. Mira lay on her back with one arm curled over her body, the other flung out over the side. The blanket was pooled on the floor now, thrown off by her sleeping movements.

Steeling his nerve, Atton crossed the room and picked it up. He leaned over to tuck the cover around her. It was as much for his own benefit as hers. If he had to look at her nearly naked form much longer, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back. As it was, he couldn't resist stealing a kiss as he bent over her, a quick touch of his lips to hers.

Mira's eyes fluttered. "Atton?" Her pronunciation of his name was barely intelligible.

"You-" Atton had to step back from her before he lost control. That hadn't been the most intelligent thing he'd ever done. He took a deep breath before he could speak again. "You, ah... you dropped your blanket. On the floor."

"Thanks," she murmured. Her sleepy half-smile was almost too much for him to handle. He fled to the refresher. For two hours, he let icy water pour over his skin, hoping it would wash everything away, putting more and more distance between them.

Sometimes, he really hated this whole noble Jedi thing.