(prompt request: "a kiss in relief")
army
As soon as the engines cut out she darts down toward Theron's little shuttle.
Even in the nebulous hours between too late and too early the launch bay's never quite deserted and with Torch's people laying claim to whatever space they can the chaos is deafening, a cacophony of welding equipment hissing out orange-blue sparks in the dim light, whirring hydraulic lifts and the companionable chirps of astromechs. If she had more dignity she'd walk, slow and measured and in proper control of herself, and greet them all as she moved past. If she had more dignity she wouldn't run.
If she had more dignity-
Oh, fuck it.
The Mandalorians won't care. If their tactics on Darvannis weren't proof enough that she doesn't play by the standard rulebook her impromptu duel had certainly done the trick: apparently it was not usual form to engage the new Mandalore in a one-handed knife fight, tihaar notwithstanding, even if it was the other woman's idea- which it was- and even if the consensus was that Shae had let her win to seal the contract between the Alliance and the clans- which she hadn't; the woman's an absolute monster and she thinks she's got more bruises from the challenge than the Zakuulans' bombs. They are all fighting a war and she feels like maybe they're finally winning and that must have some sort of currency, she thinks. If she has to sacrifice her dignity in order to deal in victories then so be it.
Dignity's overrated anyway.
So she runs. When the loading ramp opens Theron reaches out and she launches herself at him, laughing as he pulls her in close.
"Hail the conquering hero." He's teasing her, words dancing off his tongue- she's no hero and she's told him that a hundred times- but he can't quite mask the worry hiding underneath. "You're okay?"
"I'm fine. I promise. Just a few scratches left after the kolto."
He's pretending she didn't say that; she can tell by the way his breath catches and she draws him down for a kiss until she feels the tension go out of him, giving way to soft relief. "See," he says finally, teasing again, "you didn't need me after all."
She wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and he lifts her up and spins her round like dancing (which is one of her very favorite things that he does. It's heavy inside her head sometimes, even in Valkorion's entirely suspicious and entirely welcome absence, but in his arms she flies). "Not true. What about the factory plans you sent?"
"You'd have managed-" between the words she sneaks another kiss and someone whistles so she kisses him once more, just because- "just fine without them. Isn't that what you always say?"
"I do not. And you found us an army."
He shrugs. "They're with us because of you. I just got them to show up."
"You're allowed to brag a little bit, you know." And he ought to. Like so many of the galaxy's leaders during the war she slept through, Mandalore the Vindicated fell beneath the swarms of the Eternal Empire's droids and after that the clans fell silent. She'd never have thought to try to drag them back in. But Theron had- and more than that, he'd actually managed it. "You've certainly earned it, even if I wish you'd told me first."
"D'you think so?" When she kisses the bridge of his nose he tilts his chin up a bit, preening- reckless lovely stupid clever boy, Void, she missed him so even if it was only few weeks spent apart- before finally setting her back down on the ramp. He doesn't let her go entirely, though, still wrapping her up tight in his arms. "And I know, but it was supposed to be a surprise."
She squints at him. "Flowers would be a surprise. Chocolates."
"That stuff's for amateurs." His fingers trace the remnants of a bruise along her cheekbone, one last faint reminder of the now-demolished artillery. "Only the best for my girl."
"Like an army."
"Like an army."