Chapter 2 – Red Herrings

Seeing the pain in Corso's eyes struck Vacy to the core – even though it had absolutely nothing to do with her, for once. Thinking about why she responded that way raised questions she didn't really want to consider. She decided that a distraction was what was needed, and put her hands on her hips and sighed dramatically.

"Somethin' wrong, Captain?" Corso's brows drew together in concern.

Vacy looked at him with a scowl, nodding to one of the twi'lek dancers. "Why are all the companions female?" She arched a brow as another one approached, slipping an arm around Corso's shoulders. "Ain't fair," she muttered.

Corso blinked, offering a rather wobbly smile to the scantily-clad woman. "Ahm. Evenin', miss." He reached up and gently removed her arm. "Maybe some other time?" As the dancer laughed and wandered off, he looked around, frowning thoughtfully. "Huh. I guess you're right," he said to Vacy, nodding.

She watched him study the dancers (as opposed to ogling them) and couldn't hide her grin. "Riggs."

"Hm?" He looked back at her, completely guilt-free.

Vacy just shook her head. "You're adorable." She sighed, then, looking over at the live band and the mostly-open floor in front of them. "It's just – you fellows always have dancing partners about. Us womenfolk are just outta luck." With a shrug, she turned toward the dock. "Where we headed next?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Hold on a bit, there, Captain. We ain't in that much of a rush. Whyn'cha have a seat?" He nodded toward one of the small tables bordering the dance area. "I'll catch up with you in a minute or so."

She eyed him warily for a few moments, but he made a 'shoo!' gesture with his hands, and she wrinkled her nose but headed over toward an empty table. "You know I ain't big on surprises," she called back.

Leaning back in the chair, Vacy gave a grudging sigh of appreciation. Drooga might be an ugly, parasitic tumor sucking the life out of the galaxy, but he was not an ungenerous host. The chairs were comfortable, the musicians were skilled, and the venue was once again in an excellent location – lit up by the many-colored lights of the advertising banners that surrounded them, but well above the noise from the taxi lanes, not to mention the crime and squalor far below. Yep, Vacy reflected, you could be just about perfectly happy here if you're the sort who doesn't care about the suffering of others. She scowled.

Luckily, that was when she heard Corso behind her. "Glad to see you didn't give up on me altogether," he said, walking up and sitting in the next chair. "Sorry to make you wait."

For some reason Vacy found her mouth was a little dry. "Um. What happened to your armor?" She hadn't thought about it too much before this, but everyone pretty much looked the same when covered up by plasteel. You couldn't really tell what was under there, whether it was pasty flab or broad shoulders… and tight muscles... Oh dear. She cleared her throat as quietly as she could manage.

"Can't dance in that stuff," he said with a chuckle. "Well, I mean, maybe in the technical sense. Just not well." He folded his arms. "And I ain't about to get into one of those getups, so don't even think about it."

She hadn't, until then, but her eyes widened and she snorted a giggle before she managed to clap her hand over her nose and mouth to stifle it. "Right. Sorry." The image of Corso Riggs in a metal bikini and barely-there skirt, waving his arms and shaking his hips, was entertaining, if more amusing than sexy. Though there was that time you walked by the workstation and he'd had his shirt off… Vacy felt her cheeks burning and reached for something else to think about. "I, ah… I didn't know you danced, actually."

He shrugged. "Not much opportunity of late. I ain't one for squeezin' into crowds, but this ain't s'bad." He looked over at her and lifted a shoulder. "So… not that you need a partner, or that you'd have any trouble findin' one if you asked around. But – if you like," he took a shaky breath, "I will."

Vacy did her best to ignore the warmth that seemed to blossom in her chest, and just nudged him with her elbow. "Awh, Riggs! That the proper way to ask a lady to dance?" Teasing was ever so much safer.

The blush that crept over his cheeks was predictable, but still kind of gratifying. He stood immediately, grinning at her. "Guess you're right 'bout that. Ah. Right, then." He dipped his head to her, all polite-like, and she giggled a little. "Captain – ma'am – would you care to dance?"

When he extended his hand to her, she felt that soft flutter again. It was getting distressingly familiar. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her over to the dance floor.