CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Jag?"
Jaina wasn't sure it was him. Perhaps her eyes were deceiving her; Jag couldn't be slumped against a wall like a broken man. Yet there was that telltale Chiss uniform. It was far from crisp and clean, though, and Jag would never shame his uniform. At least not the Jag she knew. Still, her heart told her the truth, that this was Jag. There could be only one reason he was in such a predicament – there had to be something wrong.
Jaina broke into a run.
Slowly, Jag raised his head out of his hands and turned his head. He blinked repeatedly, and Jaina wasn't even sure he recognized her.
"Jaina?"
"Jag!" He did! She was close now, and that was when she noticed the crimson trickle leaking from his hairline. "You're bleeding!"
By the time she reached him, Jag was struggling to rise. She grabbed him by the elbow and wrapped an arm around his waist. For a woman her size it should have been a formidable feat to stand up a man of his stature, yet she managed with little effort. "Easy there, hero."
He didn't lean on her for long. Stepping away, Jag attempted to straighten his disheveled uniform and said, "I'm fine."
She canted her head and scowled. "You don't look fine."
"Really. It has just been a long day…" At that precise moment an overfull drop of bright red blood seeped off his cheekbone and plopped onto his uniform with a quite audible drip. One hand rose and gingerly felt around for the injury atop his head.
"What happened?" Jaina tried to brush away his hand to get a closer look for herself.
In the process, though, she knocked Jag's fingers right onto the edge of the broken skin on his scalp. "Ow!"
"Sorry," she said, yanking her hand away reflexively.
"No, Jaina. It's okay." He winced. "There was an assassination attempt on Iliana's life when I landed –"
"Someone tried to kill her!"
He nodded.
"And you were too close to the action?"
"Um… You could say that." Jag finally stopped probing his forehead and lowered his hand, his fingertips now glistening with blood. "I'm still trying to sort it all out in my head. At some point I must have taken a harder hit…than I realized."
An awkward silence fell between them. Jaina figured he just didn't want to talk about it, and she wasn't inclined to press the point while he was still bleeding. "Jag? May I?"
Absentmindedly, he studied the blood on his hand. "I guess you had better."
With great care, Jaina stretched up her hand and placed her fingers on the tip of the ragged wound. Time and experience with minor injuries made it easy to visualize and then clamp off the miniscule blood vessels at the lips of the cut. The bleeding ceased almost instantly, and she smiled as the rivulet of blood slowed. Studying the injury with her eyes and her extrasensory perceptions, she realized Jag had indeed taken a considerable blow. She also could sense that his thoughts were muddled and indiscernible, and there was the distinct heavy weight of inundation. Jaina imagined such a state could only come from Jag being weakened from the injury. It was just so…unlike him.
"Has the bleeding stopped?" he asked.
Looking up into his green pools of eyes, Jaina's voice caught for a moment. He was so utterly irresistible in this beleaguered state. She wanted – no, needed to take him in her arms and hold onto him forever. Instead she just nodded.
"Thank you," Jag croaked, then moved to draw away.
"No, wait." Jaina didn't want him to leave; she could do more.
Jag stilled and waited as she had asked. Leaving her fingertips on the damaged skin of his forehead, Jaina flattened her hand so her palm cupped his cheek. Her free hand went to his chest, over his heart. In this position she felt more connected, and the Force was simpler to channel. Jacen might have been able to mend Jag from afar, just by visualizing the energy flowing through him. But positioned as she was, Jaina could feel the healing energy pour into Jag, through his skin, down his body and into his center, into his heart. Beneath her hand it beat loud and true.
Staring into his eyes, Jaina felt the beating strengthen and swell. Drawing her in. Closer. To the warm fire burning in his eyes. So full of love. So captivating. She could fall in…
And then her lips pressed to Jag's. Her fingers curled into his shirt. The pounding of his heart now combined into one thunderous storm with hers. There was nothing hesitant or cautious from either of them. Their tongues plunged desperately, diving and dancing. His hands stroked her cheeks. Lips crushed together with bruising strength.
He tasted so good. It felt wonderful to be in his embrace again. Connected as one. Giving completely of herself. Giving him strength when he needed it most.
When he needed it most! Blaster bolts! This wasn't what he needed –
Jaina used every ounce of willpower to tear her body from his. He yelped wordlessly in protest and gaped at her. Her fingertips that had never once abandoned their duty to his wound during the kiss now shot away and curled into her palm.
"Sorry," she said. "Old habits die hard."
He searched her eyes. "Die hard?"
What could she possibly say? That she could become so utterly consumed by the amazing connection between them that she lost all control. That she could still be so totally enthralled by the simple act of kissing him to the point that she forgot where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. He was an Ambassador now; she was a Jedi Knight. They were on a diplomatic mission, guests in an open corridor of a planetary leader's palace. Embarrassed by her complete lack of discretion, Jaina cast her eyes down. "Yeah, I guess I'll have to remember we're not love-struck fools on Borleias anymore." She met his gaze. "We're grown up now, Jag. Things have to be different – "
In one swift move, Jag captured her hands in his own and swept down to claim her lips. Apparently his mind was on the mend, and his thoughts clearly organized, because he had managed to catch her by surprise. She gasped or tried to protest or something, but there was his tongue, doing that thing. She was rendered speechless and thoughtless besides. No control, only his arms guiding and his mouth tempting her body to fall into that timeless dance.
Her legs were weak but he was strong, holding her crushed to his body. She could hardly breathe, sneaking ragged breaths in the rare moments the suction of his mouth relented. Then she was lost again under the current of his kiss. She could feel that easy melding of mind and heart, when their souls began to join and sing a glorious song of union. His thoughts would come to her, and she would know him completely.
And as they often did, images from Jag's calculating brain began to pour over her. They were difficult to catalogue at first, statistics and numbers, strategies and ideas. They used to bother her – when she had thought they meant that he couldn't simply focus on the moment with her - but then she had come to know they were just part of who he was. Those never-ending thoughts were there, hidden in his subconscious. They were always silenced when he truly let go, but here and now, in some hallway in Vikova, Jag was not about to turn the master switch off. He didn't work that way.
More images slowly washed over and around her, and Jaina gave into them. A radiant, glowing memory of her in a towel a few days earlier. Shimmering blue like a holoimage, but so utterly real to him. He practically reveled in the remembrance, pressing harder to Jaina, clutching to her as if she were a lifeline. He moaned into their kiss.
Then a rush of images broke free from his mind. Iliana. His first encounter with the Vikovan leader, Jaina could just tell. Shawnkyr with a sterner than usual expression, and Jaina felt Jag's remorse toward his friend. She sensed a swell of pride as an image of his clawcraft formed, then concern. Before Jaina could flush out the unease she was again faced with a picture of Iliana.
Abruptly Jaina saw herself again. Jacen seated next to Iliana. Herself slapping Garrett on the arm on the way out of the briefing. Everything went red. Fighters pouring out of the Polar Wind. A crowd of people. Herself and Garrett smiling at each other. Iliana waving to the crowd. Blasterfire and chaos. The gauntlet between the starcruisers, cannonfire exploding everywhere. Rolling with Iliana on a stone floor. Garrett. A bright light accompanying a painful burst above the eyes. Jaina. The inside of a luxurious airspeeder. Jag's blaster on the floor. Iliana. Again!
Angrily, Jaina broke the kiss and wrenched herself out of Jag's embrace. Her hand shot out of its own accord and slapped him with her open palm right where it had been cupping his cheek not a minute before. "No more!"
Stunned, Jag backed away. His face was expressionless save the slow grinding of his jaw. For some time he said nothing, and did nothing. Eventually the fire in his eyes cooled, and any antagonism left in a slow exhale. "What did I do wrong?"
"I wanted you to stop it," Jaina rasped, her fingers going to her throbbing lips.
"You could have simply asked."
"You were…you were crushing me. You were… too strong."
His eye narrowed to slits. "A few minutes ago you were ministering to a wounded man, and now I am overpowering you?" He stepped forward, into her space. "What is really wrong, Jaina?"
She squared her shoulders defiantly, and waved off his protest with a flash of her hand. "You're fine, Jagged Fel. Your head's as hard as my father's, and apparently just as foolhardy."
"Foolhardy?" Jag cocked his head. "You are angry about something. I can tell. Apparently I have done something to upset your sensibilities. You're giving me that same look you had right before you sicced Lowie on me years ago."
"Yes, I'm mad at you." The words were out of Jaina's mouth before she could stop them. How could she admit that she was jealous? Because then she would have to admit she was reading his mind. "You took needless risks today."
"No. I took calculated risks today."
"No," Jaina snapped, poking her finger into his chest. "You were showing off!"
Jag snatched her hand into his. "I have no need to impress the leadership of Vikova. They already know what I am capable of. That is why they requested me personally."
"Ha! I'm not talking about Iliana, you pompous Imp!" She ripped away her hand. "I'm talking about you trying to prove you could outfly Garrett with that insane stunt."
"Is that what you think? That I'm jealous of your new Jedi flyboy?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I think. And I said so when you tried to get back into the furball earlier today, in case you've forgotten."
"Oh…" Jag blinked, then tugged on the bottom of his uniform jacket. "You really think I risked my life just to show up Garrett Trace?"
He sounded so sincere and hurt Jaina barely had the nerve to push the issue. "Yes. I do. That has always been your sore point – between us – that you're not a Jedi. It's getting a little old, Jag."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I was out of line." Jag dropped his gaze to his feet.
And Jaina's heart almost broke. "You don't have to prove to me that you're the best pilot ever, Jag. You did that a long time ago."
His chin shot up, and his eyes glinted. "Really?"
"Well, except for my dad."
"He still can't beat my father."
They shared a smile, Jag's as always barely there. Still, it's subtle flare took Jaina's breath away. "Promise you won't ever do something that rash again. At least not over something as silly as being jealous. You're better than that."
"My father would agree with you."
"Would he, now?" Jaina arched an eyebrow, then quickly straightened her expression at the sight of Shawnkyr stalking down the hall toward them on her long legs.
"Speaking of my father… have you given more consideration to coming home with me?" The look in Jag's eyes was a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, and he clearly hadn't noticed Shawnkyr approaching.
There was so much to say. Jaina's eyes darted from Jag to Shawnkyr and back. Could she say it all in time? Yes. I've been so wrong. Please forgive me. I will go happily once this is all over. How could she fit it all in before they had to part? She needed more time to tell him everything he needed to hear from her. "Jag, we'll talk about this later, okay?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut short by the dreaded voice of Shawnkyr Nuruodo. Chiss duty called as always. "Ambassador Fel, Ambassador Chu'itha requests your presence immediately."
For an eternal heartbeat Jag's eyes bored into Jaina's. He refused to relinquish the moment. Then the green orbs went dull, and he spoke. "Understood. Let's go, Shawnkyr."
Jag turned on his heel, and was gone.
6