Now she was sitting with her back to him and applying her tools to the cooler's control panel.
"Qui-Gon, do you have any idea, any idea at all, how difficult it is to find an apartment on Coruscant, and I mean a decent one? Let alone one with a window or door to the outside? With natural light? Have you ever checked out rent prices, seen how ridiculous they can be?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
Valia turned around to look at him. She studied him and then quickly turned back to her work. Hmf! Probably just another fragment of his mysterious past she still hadn't learned about in the three years she'd known him. Most any other time this mystery would have been a turn-on. Right now, it was an irritant.
The headache had begun this morning, while she had been trying to teach Ravi Brillion the rudiments of financial planning. She utterly despaired of her friend ever learning the value of a credit. To Ravi, money was like the air he breathed, the water he drank. It was just simply there. She'd been nearly driven to tears of frustration.
One problem after the other all day had sent her on a tour of her stores, culminating in yet another cooler problem here, at her original store. She had a sinking feeling she was soon going to end up paying for costly repairs, or even replacing the entire outmoded unit, which she was guessing would cost her one of the moons. The temperatures would not stay regulated, and she was running out of trouble-shooting ideas. Now this. Qui-Gon's helpful meddling. He only meant well, but damn blast it all... While she was witnessing the final ruin of her afternoon, he stood there with all the bland emotion he might reserve for watching a mime perform in the marketplace.
"Lia, I'm sorry. I will do what I can to resolve this. It must have been a misunderstanding. I will talk to him," Qui-Gon said, wanting to table the apartment issue for now, and calm her down.
She said nothing, continuing to work. Qui-Gon saw she was tiring of this fighting, running out of steam. That was good.
"Lia, I need to ask for your help with something." No use in taking a roundabout path, he thought. Not that she needed it; he encouraged her to be direct with him. He tried to be the same way himself.
"Mmm-hmmm." She was studying the numbers passing across a palm-size read-out screen.
"We need to make a trip off Coruscant to track down an escaped fugitive. A gun smuggler. We'd like you to go with us, to help us. I'd like you to go with us."
She glanced up at him, frowning. She'd gone off world with him three or four times in the last two years but never where it would have put her in danger. These trips had been brief 'recruiting' missions, finding infants with high midichlorian counts or verifying claims to that effect.
"I don't know squat about gun smuggling. Why would I have to go with you?"
"Because we have information that this fugitive in all likelihood has gone into hiding on Nyme', your home world."
Valia turned back to her work with a huff. "Well, well. If nothing else, it's a nice place to hide from the law. And plenty of other things. The freelas will be coming into season soon, the weather in most of the northern hemisphere is just fabulous this time of year, and all those quaint little harvest festivals will be in full swing in a few months. Great choice. How nice for him."
"Lia. Your family's name was mentioned several times as a connection to this man, a possible contact point in the smuggling route."
Valia said nothing for a few minutes, continuing to work. A coolness was settling into her, and it had nothing to do with the air inside the walk-in cooler.
"How special. And I suppose you're going to explain to me now what I have to do with all this." She had a pretty good idea forming in her mind.
"Your help in presenting us to your family members could be valuable. Your knowledge of your world and your relatives, anyone this person might have contacts with...it would be most appreciated."
Qui-Gon didn't add that he had a burning curiosity to see her relatives. To meet her mother and father, the two people who had brought her into being. To see the land where she had spent her childhood, the world that had helped form who she was.
He'd wondered at this curiosity, this desire to connect with her history and family roots. Perhaps because his own was long past, renounced, and of no consequence to his life now. He wasn't sure what the reason was behind this. Maybe it was no more than a wish to know even more, everything about her. She had more mysteries to give up, perhaps ones she wasn't even aware of herself.
And he wondered which parent she'd gotten those beautiful eyes from.
He waited, saying nothing, while she finished working with one control module and then moved to check a monitor.
"I see. Well. Of all places..."
Qui-Gon waited, arms folded, for her to formulate an answer. Most likely a refusal.
"I don't think I can be any help to you. Sorry."
"Oh, but I think you can, and will."
"I can't just go jetting off on a whim, leaving my stores...!" She exploded into another shouting tirade. The cooler interior was impossibly small, but she was somehow managing to pace. Qui-Gon sighed and plucked a carton off a high shelf, placed it on the floor and sat down on it, patiently waiting for her mostly hollow arguments to deflate.
"And my babies at the Temple. What about them?" She brandished a long calibration tool at him, wagging it to emphasize her words, her other hand cocked on her hip. "You're the one who told me, you yourself, that it's better if they have consistent care-givers. They don't like it when one of their surrogates is gone. Selaba cries every time I leave her to go home as it is, and Corbin is so clingy right now he's about impossible to leave."
Qui-Gon smiled at this hint of her fierce maternalism. He foresaw some serious waterworks when these children grew old enough to transfer out of the nursery and she had no more access to them. "They'll be just fine, Lia. There are others who can fill in. Children seem to be remarkably resilient creatures. I'm sure they'll forgive you for being gone a week or two."
"A week or two!"
"Give or take a few days."
"You're just so damned confident I'm going to be going, aren't you?"
"True, I had hoped I could convince you without too much trouble."
"Who is going to deal with this?" she gestured in general around her at the recalcitrant cooler, "With everything? What if more problems crop up? What do you think I'm running here? This is a very hands-on business!"
"Ahh. I see your point. It's too bad you have such abominable skill in choosing your employees."
"What!" Valia barked the word before she could think. He was on to some line of reasoning, some reverse psychology. If only her head would stop pounding, if he would stop giving her these reasons to shout, she could think more clearly.
"Lia, I will be the first to admit I know nothing about how to run a business like yours. But I have been trained to be observant. I've seen your stores, your staff. I've seen how you hire your workers and managers. You choose those who would work as you do. You have a great many capable and resourceful people working for you."
"If this is going to be another speech about delegation--"
"Lia, no. Just let it go for a while. Everything will be fine if you are absent for a short time."
She sighed deeply. His first attempt at disarmament seemed to be working. She said nothing while she reattached the panel cover, apparently considering his words. He would not use the Force on her to deliberately calm her, or sway her thinking. Not that he hadn't been sorely tempted at several points. He felt her relaxing, sensed her reconsidering.
She winced and hugged her hand to herself as she unintentionally pressed the cut against the panel edge.
It was time to get physical.
Qui-Gon quickly stood and reached out to her. He firmly guided her toward the carton he'd been sitting on and sat her down on it, in a way that was gentle but also told her he was not going to suffer much more obstinacy. He kneeled on the floor in front of her, and took her injured hand in both of his. He undid the messy bandage. Without a word, he began to clean it.
"They had a terrible rush at the Malambia sector store, and I pitched in to help. I was hurrying."
Qui-Gon simply nodded as though to tell her she needed no excuse or apology. He did not tell her she shouldn't hurry when using any type of blade, or that she should have accessible stashes of synth-flesh at all her stores. She already knew these things.
Instead he very gently and slowly cleaned the crusted bloody wound, applied pain neutralizer, antiseptic, and a synth-flesh bandage from his belt pack. When he was finished, he didn't let her hand go right away. He rested it on his thigh and caressed it.
"Such a shame for anything to happen to these hands," he murmured. He reached for her other hand and softly stroked that one too, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them and her fingers. When she showed no signs of getting impatient with this, or pulling them away, he continued. They stayed together like that for nearly two full minutes without a word. Finally because the urge in him was so strong, and because he was fairly sure she just might like it, he brought her injured hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on it. Then another, and another, trailing them lightly across her fingers. He met her eyes over her hand with his and held them.
Valia felt the strong flutter and tidal pull of her insides that happened every time he touched her and looked at her that way. Still, after two years. If anything, even more strongly and easily. Qui-Gon was not above being manipulative or devious when a situation called for it, but Valia knew he was never that way with her. His every gesture with her had been completely sincere. So she doubted he was trying to further his request by suddenly turning on the affection. With a sudden rush of warmth, she remembered this was her lover, her friend. Her very favorite Jedi Master, after all. The warmth bloomed in her eyes and he smiled at her when he saw it. That barely there, off-center little smile.
And if he did anything else, like pull her to his oh-so-comforting chest about now, she was going to completely lose it. While it hadn't been the worst ever, the day had been one freaking lousy exercise in futility. Possibly worth blubbering a little over.
Instead she sighed and straightened herself on the carton. Her arms were beginning to get pimply from the cold air. "Why couldn't it be the hot box that keeps acting up?" She asked softly, more to herself. There were a few exotic fruits she served that needed to be stored in a warming unit to prevent enzymatic breakdown.
Qui-Gon saw she wanted to finish this job and move on. "What else do you need to do in here?"
"Just check all the temperatures. Make sure they're in range." Her eyes and voice were soft now. Qui-Gon rose from the floor. He firmly pushed aside the sudden idea that had occurred to him, not to his brain, but to an area in his body somewhere far south of that. The idea that there was plenty of room on the floor in here for the two of them to... warm each other up; and the small window in the door was fogged up so no one could see in. Lia's eyes were big and dark in the chilly light inside the cooler, from the illumination strips surrounding the door and striping the ceiling. She looked up at him and he could see the top of a creamy breast down the skewed, wide neckline of her blouse. He wanted to haul her against him and kiss far more than her hands. But not now. Maybe later. If he handled this situation the right way, definitely later. Instead he took off his hooded cloak and draped it around her.
"I'll check them. You sit."
"Qui-Gon, I can do that." She got to her feet.
"Well then, I will help you and maybe we can finish up and get out of here. It's cold."
Valia snorted. She pulled the long folds of his cloak around her and lifted it up so she wouldn't trip over it. "No one's locking you in here. No one made you march in here."
Qui-Gon shot her a stern look over his shoulder and passed her tools to her.
"So, this trip to Nyme'. When do you have to go?" she asked cautiously.
Qui-Gon paused and braced himself. "As soon as you've wrapped up business for the day and are packed to leave."
"I never said I was going!" Valia's headache throbbed with new life. She exasperatedly ran her hands through her bangs and hugged her head.
Qui-Gon turned around to face her. They nearly collided in the small space.
"Lia. Please. With you, or without you, Obi-Wan and I are going. But your help and your company would mean a great deal to us. To me. And I sense some...opportunities, if you will, in this mission. For both of us."
Valia sat back down on the carton and rested her head in her hands. What did he mean by that? She didn't feel like thinking too hard about it at the moment. She massaged her temples. He'd better not have been thinking about getting her to make nice with her father. That was all ancient history, and the cool, almost non-existent relationship she had with the man suited her just perfectly.
She leaned back to rest against the shelving and gratefully pulled Qui-Gon's robe more snugly around her. He stepped over her with his long muscular legs on his way to check a temperature in one of the front zones near the door. Valia still had the presence of mind to admire them as he passed her. She watched him take a reading, but not anywhere near as efficiently as she knew she could have done it.
"Oh, here! Let me finish that."
Qui-Gon handed her the readout screen instead. "I'll measure, you check to see if it's in range."
"You know, it really doesn't work as well when you hold the probe like that."
"Then how should I hold it?"
"Like this! No, this way..." She pushed his hands and the probe the way she thought they should be. Their eyes met and clashed. They glared at each other.
The humor of the situation struck Valia suddenly. The oddest things tickled her sometimes. She let go of his hands and backed away. Her mouth twisted into a reluctant smile. She almost laughed when she looked at him. "Oh, Qui-Gon..." The big Jedi Knight was leaning against the shelves on one elbow, the side of his face resting on one hand. He wore an attitude of hen-pecked male resignation, a mixture of strained patience, confusion and a growing hint of amusement of his own on his face.
"Listen to us, quarreling like...like a..."
Qui-Gon waited several seconds for her to finish her statement. She didn't, continuing to check temperatures. He leaned down and spoke softly near her ear. "This is the first time you've ever told me you have a problem with the way I hold something," he said. Even in the washed-out light in the walk-in, he could see the pretty pink blush that crept into her cheeks. She huffed indignantly.
"Yes, well, that's...this is, ahhh...this is different."
She'd been about to say 'like an old married couple', but something ridiculous about the way that sounded stopped her. Ha! Married! She was perfectly content with her status as a free and single woman, and hardly gave changing it a passing thought. Marriage was hardly a state she wanted to enter into. Definitely not. No. Not her thing at all. She hurriedly went back to verifying temperatures. She brushed at the cobweb-like force fields that kept varying zones of temperature and humidity contained inside the cooler. But her heart did an absurd little pirouette when she thought of being married and looked at Qui-Gon. He was studying her very carefully. He said nothing, and didn't ask her what she would have said.
Valia dismissed the strange moment. "I don't know how these temperatures are going to be accurate anyway, with your big hot body in here," she grumbled.
"It wasn't me doing all the shouting earlier and blowing a lot of hot air around."
"Jinn..." she growled. But she smiled while she did it.
They finished the job in a few minutes. A reluctantly satisfied Valia surveyed the cooler. "I hope these temps stay put now. When Chuluk gets back from that food service management conference on Sullust, I'll have him plug RF-2D9 in here and keep this thing monitored. Maybe he's got some ideas about what to do..."
Qui-Gon nodded gravely. He watched as she absently rubbed her forehead again. He admitted to himself that he was irritated with the way she was dealing with her pain, or rather refusing to deal constructively with it. And if he confronted the deeper truth, that she wouldn't let him help her with it.
"Lia, really, do you want to get rid of that headache before you leave?"
"No, I've really gotten rather fond of it by now, in fact I was going to ask you if you had any more ideas for making it worse," she remarked. Qui-Gon folded his arms and wondered how much sass a man was supposed to take in one day.
"Yes, Qui-Gon, I would love to be rid of it, but I figured we could do that by getting something to eat. I've got a mad craving for some roasted bola-root. And anything sweet with a lot of caffeine in it. Some good starchy comfort food, that'll take care of it. And I thought you were cold. Let's get out of here, I'm starving."
Qui-Gon wrapped an arm around her and guided her back to the carton on the floor. He once again sat her down on it and kneeled in front of her. In a voice he might use with the most stubborn young Padawan-learner, he coaxed her.
"First, my orally-fixated little one, let's try getting rid of it this way. Do you remember how I showed you?"
"Oh, all right."
"First, clear your mind..."
She closed her eyes and shook out her shoulders, willing her body to be loose, relaxed. She shifted on the carton and tried to get comfortable. She tried to blank her mind, think of nothing, let all distracting thoughts drain away, leaving a peaceful void. This had worked quite well before.
She fidgeted. She was impatient. It was cold. Her stomach growled. She had too much on her mind. The day and all its aggravations lingered. And she wasn't quite finished being irked at Qui-Gon.
She cracked open one eye. He was looking at her, doubt etched in his strong features.
"It's going to take you three hours to reach a state anything near which you can control pain."
"Well, excuse me. I can't turn parts of me on and off just like that. So I'd make a lousy Jedi."
"Don't get all worked up into a lather again. It's all right. Let me..." He placed his fingertips on her temples and rubbed them with light strokes. Valia closed her eyes and felt herself relaxing immediately. She soon felt other sensations, too, the usual ones in the general area below her stomach when he touched her. She savored them, telling herself she'd find an opportunity to do something about them at a later time.
Qui-Gon gently urged her to turn around and rubbed her neck, now using his palms and thumbs. He found the enormous tense knot at the base of her neck, and worked on that for a while. She bit down on a whimper as he turned her shoulders and upper back into putty. The small soft noise that escaped her sent a jolt of lust through him. He resisted the impulse to plant his lips on the sweet, exquisite nape of her neck. Focus on the task at hand, he sternly ordered himself.
By this time, Valia was sure she would have agreed to travel to the most desolate deity-forsaken rock on the Outer Rim had he asked her. He was prolonging this, dragging it out, turning a pain control exercise into one of pleasure. He guided her to lay on the floor and rest her head in his lap. He worked his fingertips all over her scalp and forehead. He had once explained to her about muscles, median lines and pressure points. The words had meant little, but the action...oh, the action was pure magic. He murmured softly to her, urging her to think of nothing, relax even more. Not hard to do, since she was already nearly a puddle of jelly all over the floor. She felt so close to him now; she was surrounded by his warmth, she could smell the scent of the fabric of his clothing, the leather of his belt and boots. Had he really used only his hands on her? Maybe he really was being devious and underhanded. He was using all the most effective weapons in his arsenal: patience, kindness, soft words. That smile. And those hands.
He was making absolutely sure that the last of the pain was banished when she decided maybe she could take a brief hiatus from her stores and go with him. He had asked her for help, and who was she to refuse him? She could treat it like a vacation. She hadn't really taken one in years, and she had been run a little ragged lately. Even if it did mean going back to visit her home world.
"Do you really need me to go with you?"
"Yes."
"It's going to take me a little while to get ready to leave. Pack. That sort of thing," she said in a soft, faraway voice.
Qui-Gon knew better than to smile in triumph. "We'll wait."
"I still don't like your destination. I'm not looking forward to having any pleasant father-daughter chats with Tak. Just being on the farm is going to bring back memories."
"Lia, my love, the baggage you are most worried about is exactly what you need to leave behind. Pack everything you need, but not that. Unburden yourself of those memories and fears. The task will be much easier."
This morsel of wisdom that might have been maddening earlier simply made her nod slowly now. She idly reached up to straighten her mussed hair and felt a large loose object tucked above her ear. Frowning, she pulled it out of her hair and looked at it.
The large flower was white, spotted with pink. The petal edges were a darker crimson.
"I'm sorry if it's a little wilted," said Qui-Gon. He had had it tucked up his sleeve for several hours.
Valia looked up at his face from admiring the flower that appeared just perfectly fine to her. The last of her annoyance with him fled. To be replaced with a flood of affection and a little guilt. She wouldn't have thought it possible, not in a million years, but for just an instant the broad-shouldered Jedi Master looked like a little boy seeking forgiveness for something he'd done.
"I'm sorry I called you...all those things." She spoke to the flower's center.
"No mortal wounds inflicted," Qui-Gon said in a dismissive way with a half-smile. "I'm sorry for interfering where I shouldn't have."
Valia got up from the floor and leaned forward to wrap her arms around him and hug him to her.
"Oh hello, Obi-Wan," a tousled-looking Valia said brightly when she noticed him sitting at the table under the tree as she and Qui-Gon came out of the walk-in. She flashed the relieved Jedi apprentice a saucy grin. "Hey, handsome, pick out a restaurant. I'm taking you both out to dinner." She turned to put away all her tools and leave instructions for her staff. Obi-Wan shot a questioning look at Qui-Gon that he immediately followed with one that said 'never mind'.