Geebus! My internet went out for a few days, and we couldn't figure out how to get it back on! I was afraid that we'd never get it back, but thankfully we did, and here's chapter nine.

Warning: fluffiness abounds! Gotta love the fluff!

This was actually kind of weird to write...dunno why...eh, whatever. I guess I still prefer the action chapters to the complete romance ones, but I try my best not to make them too mushy and stupid. I write things that I'd probably end up doing...or that I secretly wish would happen!

Okay, you wanted a poll Samurai Demon-God Sekikage, I'll give you a poll! So, everyone who reveiws, please give your vote on this poll, kay?

Who is the greatest Dark Jedi/Sith Lord of all time?

1. Exar Kun
2. Darth Revan
3. Naaga Sadow
4. Darth Maul
5. Darth Sidious
6. Darth Vader

So far the votes are: Exar Kun - 1, Darth Revan - 2. Everybody else has 0 votes.


The sound of her tears subsided for a moment and he heard her call out softly, "Who is it?"

"It's Vincent," he responded, nervously shifting. Why was he so anxious all of a sudden? The sound of her soft footsteps reached his ears and he guessed that she was just on the other side of the door.

"What do you need?"

The question in itself was innocent, but he knew the underlying message.

"Um...do you mind if I come in?" he knew it wasn't the best question to ask, but he really needed to see her. The door stared coldly at him for a few seconds longer than he felt comfortable, and he wondered if he had seriously messed up any chance he had of getting close enough to help.

"I'm not really...presentable right now," Bastila's voice filtered through the metal, surprise lacing her response.

"I know this isn't a good time for you..."

There was another brief pause, then, "No, it's alright. Actually, I have something to ask you." The door opened with a low whooshing noise, and Vincent found that he had been right. She was standing on the other side of the door, leaning against the wall, and practically the only thing he could see was her face.

Her lashes were wet, her eyes reddened from crying, and her cheeks moist from the previously shed tears. Bastila wiped at the corners of her eyes and motioned for him to come in, the female Jedi taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Vincent had never been in her room before, and he felt awkward to a certain degree. This was a new setting for him, unfamiliar territory, and he hated being at a disadvantage. Mentally, he kicked himself for thinking of this like he would a battle, strategizing and sizing up his options; he needed to approach this much differently. Women were definitely not as simple as a battle; oh no, they were like trying to win the whole war with an army of one.

Said army of one was standing a few feet inside of Bastila's doorway, looking very ill at ease.

"I don't bite," she couldn't help teasing.

He raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh? And what can I do to make you change that?"

She gave him a look of mock horror and playfully threw a pillow at him, which, of course, he caught with ease.

"See, you're better already."

"Vincent, you didn't have to come put up with my sniveling just to cheer me up," she chided.

"No, I do. I promised your mother I would take care of you, and by the Force, I'll take care of you. Now I have the distinct feeling that I interrupted your crying..." Vincent trailed.

Bastila smiled bitterly and looked slightly embarrassed but did not respond.

"Well, if you feel the need to cry again, my shirt is quite adept at soaking up moisture," he offered.

"I'll keep that in mind next time," she answered. Then, switching back to buisiness,"I have a very important question I've been wanting to ask you if you'll permit it."

"What, you need my permission to ask me a question? I'm not going to be offended if you just zing me with a random interview. Go ahead, ask away," Vincent half-teased.

"Back in the Eastern Dune Sea, when those three Elite Raiders attacked...I couldn't help but notice that you used Force Lightning," she began.

"And?"

"And," she continued, "that is a Dark side power. I am curious as to how you know this skill, as neither I nor Jolee has taught you it in any form."

He shrugged, honestly at a lack for a true answer. "I really don't know. I just...well, I kind of snapped, you know? Lost my temper. I felt this...this power...sort of boiling beneath the surface. I just pushed all of the Force out from my body, and that's what happened."

"And you also drove a man to commit suicide," Bastila pointed out somewhat harshly.

Vincent winced. "Yes, about that...I can't tell you how sorry I am. If I would've known he would lose it like that..." He sighed. "I would go back and change it if I could, but bad decisions are things I've learned to live with. They seem to be a common occurrence in my life."

Bastila sensed that he truly was repentant for his earlier cruel prodding, but she still didn't like the fact that it had occurred at all. Was part of his old nature coming back? She sincerely hoped not.

"Um, I'm glad you patched things up with your mother," he said quietly.

She felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her at the mention of her mother and tears stung the back of her eyes. "Yes, I am glad I was able to at least be civil to her. I fear that I wouldn't have done as well had you not been there. You're becoming quite involved in many aspects of my life Vincent." It was more of a joke than a serious observation, but it was true nonetheless.

"I am bonded to you." His response was hushed, his gaze on an incredibly interesting piece of metal on the floor.

"Ah yes. Our bond." She couldn't bring herself to say any more though. The subject was almost painful, at least for her, knowing why they were like this, and he didn't seem overly fond of the topic either.

"I want to help you," Vincent said looking at her intently. "With...with what you're going through. I know that you're father's death is hard on you, but I want to let you know that I'm here for you. We all are. As cliché as this sounds, you aren't alone. Especially since you're bonded to me. You're never alone."

"Yes, I'm acutely aware of that."

"Um, well...I can go if you really don't want me here." Her tone of voice had been less than friendly when she had answered him and she immediately regretted it.

"Please don't," she had gently grabbed his upper arm as he had risen to leave. "I didn't mean that."

His green eyes were absolutely intoxicating in the dim lighting that filled her room. Their normally vivid color was reduced to a darker, more mysterious shade, and Bastila found herself staring into his eyes for a long moment. He said nothing; he simply stood there, intensely aware of her hand upon his arm and the proximity in which they were standing, their bodies nearly touching.

Gently, he removed her hand from his arm, never letting go of it until it was back at her side.

"All right then, I'll stay."

Bastila looked relieved, and Vincent could honestly say that he was very glad that she hadn't wanted him to go. Once they were both seated, Bastila fidget for a moment before speaking.

"I'm supposed to open myself to you, right?" she asked, unable to hold back the sarcasm. It was a natural defense mechanism for her.

He smiled patiently. "That's the idea."

Taking a deep breath, she began. "I'm not really used to this, so forgive me if I'm not clear. I am sad over the loss of my father, but I feel it's more than that. It's like...part of me died when he passed away. I have all these happy memories of me and my father together, and now I have his holocron, but...it hurts more than I thought it would," she explained, staying relatively on the surface.

"Bastila look at me." Her piercing blue-grey orbs locked onto his emerald ones and he felt his pulse quicken. "You don't have to be strong all of the time," Vincent said,knowing exactly what she meant but refused to say."Losing someone you care deeply about is hard. You're not prepared for it, you can't be prepared for it, and it's going to hurt for a long time. For just this once, please, let it go. Just...let someone else be strong for you." Let me, he finished inside of his head.

Bastila felt the very strong urge to simply let him hold her, something that she was one hundred percent sure he would do without a moment's hesitation. That's absurd, she reasoned. I can't do that. Even if he is just being friendly...or...why does he want to comfort me so much?

"Vincent, I get the feeling that you came in here for more reasons than just comforting me," she stated. His eyes widened ever so slightly and she knew she had hit home.

"Yes...you would be right in saying that," he acknowledged, looking somewhat abashed. "I enjoy spending time with you. It seems more natural than being with everyone else out there, probably because of our bond. Even you said we share a certain 'intimacy.'"

Why couldn't she have phrased it differently? Why did she have to pick intimacy of all words? Admittedly, at the time, she had no idea that their relationship would become like this, trading barbs, arguing and generally behaving like an old married couple.

For a moment, her resolve to stand by the Jedi Code wavered. What if this was the right thing to do? What was she missing out on by ignoring what she felt about him? Was she missing out on anything? What exactly did he feel about her? Now there was a question.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Bastila tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew that he would pick up on the nervousness in her voice.

"Does this have to do with you?"

How could he have possibly figured that out? "Yes..."

He rubbed his chin for a moment and Bastila noticed that he had once again shaved, leaving only a tight goatee to adorn his face. His hands were large yet surprisingly gentle, though she knew how deadly they could be if the situation called for it. Bastila realized that she had often found herself staring at him like this and she wondered if he had noticed.

"Yes, I have noticed actually." It took her a moment to realize that not only had he read her mind, his voice didn't carry the usual inflection of pleasure that it had when he pointed out things like that; he had simply given her a straight answer. Nevertheless, she found herself embarrassed that she was so obvious.

"I don't mind. Besides, I do it to you too," Vincent countered. "And yeah, go ahead and ask whatever it is you were going to ask."

"I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my mind, Vincent," Bastila said.

He looked hurt but didn't snap back at her. "I wasn't in your mind," he replied. "You didn't sheild the thought."

"Oh," was all she could think of.Bastila shifted on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the question concerning their 'relationship.' It was ironic really, the effect he had on her when all of this was her fault. She should have better control over this, but she didn't; Vincent, however, seemed to view it a laughing matter, a fact that infuriated her to no end.

They were Jedi! They were not supposed to have any sort of emotional attachment, yet he attempted to get her to fall for him at every possible opportunity. And she had to admit that he was succeeding...

"You still there?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. I wanted to know...how you felt about 'us'. About all of this," she waived a hand in the air. "About...everything, I guess."

The look on his face told her that this was about to get interesting. His eyes had widened once again, his jaw was slack, and he had a frightened expression on his features. Vincent blinked and shook his head, rousing himself from the momentary stupor that had crept over him. What had she just asked? How he felt about her? How could he possibly tell her that? If he told her the truth...he supposed that he shouldn't lie to her, it wouldn't be fair, but his fear of rejection was threatening to override his sense of fairness.

"Um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, there isn't supposed to be an 'us' according to the Jedi Code but I think you know my opinion of that. How I feel about you in particular? I think you're an amazing woman, and I'd be lucky to spend the rest of my life with someone half as incredible as you are. Assuming I wasn't a Jedi of course. Now," Vincent was standing and he paced around her room for a few seconds before continuing. "About this whole mission? I hate it. Absolutely hate it. But hey, somebody's gotta save the galaxy right? And who better than a late-comer Jedi with mad skills, a Padawan whose Battle Meditation has saved the Republic's sorry backside countless times already, an uber-effective Republic officer, and a motley crew of aliens and droids. C'mon gang; let's go defeat the evil Sith Lord! We'll all be great friends and it'll be good for the Republic too. Hey, maybe they'll make a movie or something about us later! Whaddaya say? Oh yes," he rolled his eyes.

Bastila smiled at his sarcasm and shook her head. He definitely wasn't afraid to express his opinion, and often in the funniest way possible, especially if he didn't like something. She had felt a rush of pleasure when he had said that she was incredible, however, she also noticed that he had conveniently stayed neutral on the subject of their relationship. Her happiness was short lived as the thought of her father once again invaded her mind, and much to her shame, she felt tears slip from her eyes and run down her cheeks.

Vincent felt powerless; he wanted to help her, but he wasn't good at this kind of thing. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he placed an arm around her shoulders soothingly. Much to his surprise, Bastila turned, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shirt, crying softly. Vincent shifted his position to better her comfort and encircled his other arm around her smaller frame, embracing her gently.

She fit into his arms perfectly. Holding her like this, it just felt so... right. Vincent could smell the shampoo that she had used on her hair, mingling with her body wash to create a light, fresh smell that he found himself enjoying, perhaps too much. He discovered that she was supple as well, her body easily molding to his. Part of him wished he could stay like this forever, and part of him knew that eventually it would have to end, a thought he chose to ignore for the moment, letting himself get lost in the feelings she stirred within him.

Through the sadness that shrouded her senses, Bastila had felt his arm slip around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort and she had given in. She had turned to him, holding him tightly as she had done on Tatooine and pressing her face into the soft cotton of his shirt. He had moved then, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her closer in an effort to ease her pain. To her, he was like a warm bed of soft steel, strong, invincible, yet tender and gentle. With her face buried in his chest, she could smell his cologne, masculine but not overpowering, a scent that she found relaxing.

"You okay?" he asked quietly once her tears had abated, Bastila feeling a vibration deep in his chest as he spoke. She nodded her head in response, turning it so her ear was pressed against his body. Bastila could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as it thudded in his chest and she snuggled as close to his warmth as she could manage, causing, she noticed with a smile, a small jump in his heart rate.

Vincent's leg had fallen asleep, and under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn't have said anything, but his nerves were firing very painfully and he didn't think he could take it for much longer.

"Hey Bas?"

"Hmm?"

"Uh...my leg's fallen asleep."

She pulled back and looked down to find that she was indeed sitting on his leg.

"Oh. Sorry." She moved off of his leg to the side and he rubbed it vigorously for a few seconds, wincing in discomfort. When she had shifted to the side, she had inadvertently placed herself between his legs, a fact that she now noticed with some awkwardness. She also noticed that he hadn't let go of her; while he had been massaging his leg with one hand, he had kept his free arm draped around her shoulders. He got a thoughtful look on his face just before she felt herself lift in the air.

"May I inquire as to why we are levitating?"

"Because I'm too lazy to actually get up and scoot us backwards," he responded with a smile, and Bastila realized that they had moved toward the head of her bed. Vincent set them down gently and leaned back against the wall, still firmly in possession of her.

"How many rules do you think we're breaking right now?" Bastila asked softly but seriously.

"Well, unless there's a rule against snuggling, I don't believe we're breaking any."

"With our luck they've come up with a rule against that since we've been gone."

He snorted. "You're probably right. But if they have, we don't know about it, so I don't consider us to be breaking it. I wouldn't care if we were any way, you know that."

"Yes, I know. To be honest, I don't think I would care either."

"Bastila! Since when have you broken rules?" Vincent asked in exaggerated shock.

"Since you came along," she answered poking him in the stomach, only to find that it did little good. It was like poking a rock.

"Good lord."

"Heh, don't get too excited there. I saw that coming."

"I was about to say..." Bastila responded with a raised eyebrow. He smiled adorably and she shook her head, gently extricating herself from his grasp and sitting next to him instead of on him. He didn't need any encouragement and she felt somewhat uncomfortable with getting that close...on a bed. She trusted him but there was a boundary that needed to be set. He seemed to respect her subtle rebuff and clasped his hands together over his middle, his fingers interlaced with each other.

"Did you do this with Brynn?" She knew it probably wasn't the most tactful way to put it, but she was honestly curious as to how they had spent their time together during some of the thickest fighting in the Mandalorian War.

He was silent for a long time, though he hadn't tensed as if uncomfortable with the question and she could feel no anxiety coming from his end of the bond. When she looked at his face again, she found that he was repressing a grin.

"Vincent?"

"Um, well...sort of..." he answered her question with effort.

"Sort of? What is that..." her eyes widened as she figured out what his somewhat cryptic response had really meant. "Vincent!"

"We were in the middle of a war!" he protested.

"I regret asking. I don't need to think about that."

"Is it that repulsive?"

"Not repulsive, just...disturbing."

"Why?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "Why? Because it's thinking about you sleeping with another woman, that's why! That's just not right."

"Okay then, picture yourself instead of Brynn."

"Vincent!" Bastila exclaimed for the second time in as many minutes, grabbing a pillow and attempting to smack him in the face with it, but with little success. Vincent stopped her easily by blocking the pillow and pinning her arm against his body. Bastila threw her weight to the side forcing them to roll of the bed onto the floor; Vincent impacted the ground with a satisfying "oof" and released her for a brief moment, giving her enough time to try and grab the pillow again. Just as she felt the fabric within her grasp, Vincent's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back, dragging her away from her goal. Bastila sent a wave of Force behind her knocking him away long enough for her to retrieve the pillow and turn to face him, a mistake that would cost her the wrestling match. Vincent had already picked himself up off the floor and realized that she was standing right in front of the bed; the last thing she registered before he lunged at her was the look of utter mischief sparkling in his eyes and the wicked grin on his face.

They both slammed into the soft mattress of the bed, Bastila effectively pinned beneath Vincent's weight, her arms splayed uselessly above her head and her legs on either side of his, negating any chance she had of kneeing him in the groin.

"Not fair!" she grunted struggling futilely against him.

"I don't play fair." She had closed her eyes when he had tackled her and now she opened them to find his emerald orbs staring intently into hers barely two inches away, a grin still plastered on his face. Leaning just close enough to make her heart race, he spoke barely above a whisper.

"I win." Vincent stood, helping her up off the bed as he did so. "Oh man...I'm wiped. I'm gonna hit the sack, you should too. See you in the morning."

He held her in a gentle hug, his arms sliding around her waist with ease. She reciprocated without a second thought, encircling his neck and pulling him down to her level. The embrace lasted for a good while, as neither Jedi wished to be the first to let go and ruin the moment. Vincent finally released her, taking a small step back and giving her an affectionate smile.

"Sleep well," he said, raising a hand to tenderly touch her cheek for a brief second. Bastila watched him leave with an air of disappointment. She missed him already, and he had only been gone what...two seconds? She needed to get it together. They couldn't be together, even if they wanted to, so why was she fooling herself during the time that they spent with each other?

Because you want to be with him, a voice in the back of her head reminded her. She sighed, realizing that she could no longer deny what she felt for him. But then the fact of who he was...what he was...that complicated things. She wished that she had known him before all of this, before the Masters had gotten to him, just so she could have seen the man he really was. Bastila feared that she was letting herself be lulled into a false sense of security, that everything he was now, it was all a lie, a façade he threw up to please those around him. She wasn't even sure of that, he always seemed so sincere, so willing to help...Bastila winced at the headache that had begun to throb in the back of her skull.

Slowly, she slipped under the sheets of her bed and found that it was still warm from where they had been sitting scant minutes ago. As she drifted off to sleep, she had a foreboding sense of evil, a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. Bastila dismissed the thought as a fit of over cautiousness and let herself become enveloped in the welcome darkness of sleep.

Vincent had felt it as well, an evil presence, dark and menacing and seemingly drawing ever closer no matter what they did. If Revan and Malak had gone to the same planets they were going to now, searching for the same Star Maps, then it would only make sense of Malak knew exactly where they would be next. Granted, he had no way of knowing which planet they would go to, but there were only two choices left, so he likely had his options covered. He figured that the Dark Lord himself probably wasn't anywhere near either Mannan or Korriban, but he had probably left the most capable men behind to keep watch.

Vincent didn't like it; there was no way out, and he always had an escape. Silently, he cursed the Jedi Council for sending them on this mission, knowing full well the dangers that they faced and not caring in the least. How could they not have realized that Malak would soon figure out what they were doing? Just because he wasn't as tactful as Revan was didn't mean he was a complete idiot; anyone could have realized their intentions. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Vincent vainly wracked his brain for a solution to their newest problem. There was no way he was going to let Malak get anywhere near Bastila, not as long as he was alive and able to put up a fight. And the thought of what would happen to the rest of his friends...he shuddered at the images that his mind produced.

"You should be in bed," a feminine voice said. He looked up to see Mission standing before him looking concerned.

"I'm a Jedi, and Jedi don't sleep according to Carth."

Mission smiled at his joke and sat down next to him. "What's wrong?"

Vincent was only mildly surprised that she had noticed his distress, she was very observant; she had to be to get by in a city like Taris. He sighed and rubbed his close shaven hair for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell her the true issue. Deciding that she was as much a part of this team as anyone else and she deserved to know what was going on, he turned his head to look at her.

"We're trapped," he stated simply.

"By Malak?"

He nodded. "I think he knows what we're doing. He knows we're searching for the Star Maps, and he knows that we only have two planets left to visit."

"So no matter where we go, somebody will be waiting for us," Mission said quietly.

"I'm sorry I got you mixed up with all of this," Vincent apologized.

"Hey, I came with you because I wanted to. You helped me and Big Z Plus, you seemed nice enough, and I didn't meet many nice people on Taris."

"I hope you never have to see me when I'm angry then."

Mission gave him a quizzical look.

"On Tatooine, three Elite Warrior Tusken Raiders attacked me, and I lost my temper and ended up frying them all with Force lightning. Not pretty."

"I guess it's a good thing you're on our side then, huh?"

"Sometimes I wonder whose side I'm really on. I mean, sure I want to save the Republic, and sure, I hate Malak as much as the next guy, but this whole Jedi thing...it just isn't me. I feel...held back. Like the Masters didn't tell me something. Like Bastila's not telling me something."

"It's funny; I don't see you as a Jedi. I just see you as you," Mission admitted.

"I'm glad to know that my role doesn't define me. And I'm glad that someone else sees it too, because I don't feel like a Jedi. I know that right now, I'm on the 'Light side' of the path, but I've always wondered, is the 'Dark side' really as bad as they make it out to be? I mean, couldn't it be possible to master both? Some say that's what Revan did, but that the Masters didn't see it," Vincent said, not really talking to Mission anymore, but thinking aloud.

"I've always wondered what Revan was like. Everyone says that he was handsome, charismatic, and a born leader. That he could make people do anything, and that he was a military genius. He had to be to make the Republic pull out of the hole it had dug itself in during the Mandalorian War."

"I think that there was more to Revan's fall than people have been led to believe. I don't think that he was consumed by the Dark side like everyone says he was. Just listening to his history from Master Dorak, I felt everyone was too quick to judge Revan's motives, that they were eager to slap the 'evil Sith' label on him and be done with it. They didn't want to see the bigger picture. But I could be completely wrong, so don't quote me on that Mission," he mused.

"Carth seems to think that Revan was as much of an evil, volatile brute as the rest of the universe does," she pointed out.

"He's just angry over the betrayal of one of his friends. A man that he considered his mentor, Saul Karath, joined the Sith because of Revan and Malak and Carth ended up losing his wife and his son in the bombardment of Telos. I don't blame him for being angry, or for wanting revenge. If they had taken someone away from me...if one of my closest friends had taken someone away from me like that, I would be out for blood too."

"You don't sound very Jedi-like, Vincent," Carth's voice said from the hallway to the cockpit.

"Yeah, well if you've been eavesdropping on this whole conversation then you'd know that I don't feel very Jedi-like," Vincent shot back.

"You'd better get real Jedi-like real soon, because Mannan has strict neutrality rules, and the last thing we need is for you to go Dark side on us with some more Force lightning and have all of the Selkath all over our collective asses," Carth said jokingly.

"God, did she tell the whole ship about that?"

"No, just me and Jolee. The old man seemed to think it was pretty funny, and to be honest, I'd of wanted to see that. Betcha those Sand People had no idea what hit them."

"I don't think they lived long enough to realize that they had been hit. How long 'till we dock in Mannan?"

"Enough time for you to get a good night's sleep for once."

"Yeah, a good night's sleep in the middle of the day. I swear, Tatooine must've thrown off my internal clock, 'cause I have no idea what time it is. I just know it's not nighttime. Crap," Vincent said checking a small clock that was on the wall, "it's 3:30! Tell me how I've managed not to sleep for two days now."

"Why's your shirt wet?" Mission asked innocently.

Vincent felt a wave of embarrassment threatening to cause a blush. "Uh...Bastila was crying. She just found out that her father died, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, and she ended up crying again.

"So you went to 'comfort' her, huh?" Mission teased.

"Not like that! I...you know what? I'm going to go to bed before this gets out of hand and I make a complete fool out of myself. Good night." Vincent retreated to his bunk in the crew quarters and collapsed on the small bed with a heavy sigh.

Maybe some good sleep would help him think of a way to get out of the trap he knew they were walking into.