Skywalker made his way into the kitchenette with his bag of food and as he walked past, a savory aroma wafted towards me causing my stomach to grumble yet again.

I scowled down at my traitorous belly and noticed I was still clutching my empty tumbler. Suddenly embarrassed about how much I'd had to drink, I silently set the glass down next to the decanter on the table in front of me and threw a surreptitious glance at the man in my kitchen, who was doling out portions of something that smelled incredible.

I inhaled deeply as I stood up and tried to speak over the rumble emitting from my mid-section, "Mmm, what is that? Ithorian?" I walked over to the small kitchen and leaned on the support beam for the entry.

"Nope, just a stew I used to have when I was young. My Aunt Beru would make it when my uncle and I had had a rough day." Skywalker looked up at me and grinned, "I'd say this qualifies as one of those days, wouldn't you?"

I snorted in agreement and then nodded to the carafe beside his bag. "What's that?"

The Jedi followed my line of sight to the carafe and picked it up, "This," he said with great fanfare, "is blue milk. No Beru Stew is complete without it."

I raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Honestly, just a little Farmer's concoction. Completely innocent and yet surprisingly refreshing."

I had an idea. I grabbed two glasses from a cabinet and placed them on the counter near Skywalker, "Just like you, I guess." I used just enough sarcasm to leave him wondering, "But does it taste as good?"

The Jedi's eyes widened, and he nearly lost hold of the carafe.

I watched his cheeks flush as I reminded him of our kiss, and I nearly laughed. His attempt to pour the milk into the glasses I'd provided seemed to take a lot of concentration on his part, but he managed to finish without spilling too much, so instead I grinned.

I hoisted myself up and sat on the countertop. "A little jumpy, aren't we Farm Boy?" I prodded him with my big toe, and he swatted it out of his way.

"Where's your cutlery?" He replied, choosing to ignore my taunt.

I slowly straightened my legs and pulled the drawer open beneath them to give Skywalker access to the utensils it contained.

He had to reach between my calves to grab a few pieces from the drawer and I took the opportunity to graze my leg against his arm. Skywalker instantly froze. His gaze followed the length of my leg from foot to thigh, then continued up my torso, chest, neck and face to rest on my eyes.

I held his wide-eyed gaze as I leaned forward to lift his hand from the drawer. My left foot pushed the drawer closed again and I slinked off the counter, placing myself just a handful of centimeters from the hypnotized Jedi.

I was reminded that Skywalker was still in his tuxedo when he tugged at his collar, and I saw his Adam's apple bob below his tie when he swallowed. Beads of perspiration were collecting along his brow and his breath seemed to be caught in his throat.

I stepped even closer, but Skywalker backed away a little. I took another step, then raised my arms and encircled his neck, but he ducked after a second, spun, and wound up at my back while I was left grasping nothing but air.

"What's wrong, Farm Boy? Isn't this what you want?" I said with a scowl.

"No, Mara." He replied forcefully. "This isn't you at all. This is just a part you play. A part that you've played before and one that I have no doubt you're very good at."

I frowned. This isn't how it's supposed to go.

"Why does it have to be a game with you?" I heard the disgust and disappointment in his voice. "I've played those games before and I'm sick of them."

I watched with a confused look as Skywalker gathered up his coat that I'd discarded earlier on the floor. He glanced at the dishes full of stew that we hadn't touched yet, then looked back at me. He suddenly seemed very tired.

"I thought we could finally talk over a nice meal. That's all I wanted. But you had to go and…do… whatever it was you were trying to do. I don't like being manipulated any more than you, Mara. Give me a call when you find the part of you that's not scared to be yourself. I'd really like to talk to her sometime."

The Jedi sighed and shook his head, "Enjoy your dinner." He signaled the door's release and turned to leave.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen, dumbfounded, for what seemed to be an eternity. In reality, it wasn't any more than a second or two before I came to my senses.

"Wait," I said, in desperation. I could feel the color drain from my face as Skywalker slowly turned around.

"What is it now, Mara?" He said without emotion.

I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say, so I just looked at him. I didn't know what I wanted; I just knew I didn't want him to leave. Not like this. Skywalker is right. I do make everything a game. It's always about who has the upper hand and who is going to win. Why can't I just let things be what they are and leave it at that?

"That's what I thought," The Jedi's shoulders slumped a bit as he turned to leave once more, "Good night, Mara."

In that instant I knew that if I let him walk out now, I'd regret it for the rest of my days. My eyes widened and my hands balled to fists unconsciously. I tried to call out, but my breath failed me. I couldn't say what I needed to say, and I panicked at the thought of losing Skywalker forever. I worked some saliva back into my tongue and pried my mouth open to form the words that wouldn't come out any louder than a whisper, "Wait, Luke. Please don't go."

I don't know if he didn't hear or if he just chose to ignore me. Either way, he was gone, and the door slid closed behind him.