Luke Skywalker's apartment, Coruscant. 13 ABY

Mara Jade did not appreciate being kept waiting. She stood impatiently at Skywalker's door for him to answer her precise knock, but was answered only by silence. It was troublesome enough that she had, in effect, been summoned to his apartment, to keep her standing outside his door infuriated her. He was home, she was sure of that. She could feel his Force-presence within, although it seemed to be somewhat - shifty.

She'd noticed the change in his aura the moment she'd landed, not an hour beforehand. She had no business to run for Karrde for a few days, and Coruscant was a good a place as any to spend her time off. She'd never imagined that Luke would be here. She hadn't seen him since she'd left Yavin, close to nine months previous. Mara had been embarrassed at her sickness, at his care of her, and hadn't the volition or the nerve to face him again. As least, till time had passed.

She'd heard rumours that he'd gone on a quest to find Callista - scouring the galaxy for his lost lover. Mara had been disappointed to hear it. She'd thought, maybe, that her company had in some way persuaded him to move on with his life, to forget about that harpy. Obviously not.

Perhaps her words about Callista loving him but leaving to free him, meant to comfort, had instead spurned him to find her again. She should have known that if Luke felt there was still hope for anyone he loved, he would fight until the bitter end. Mara told herself that she should just stay away from him before she did any more damage.

And yet, here she was at his apartment door, seeking entrance. As soon as she'd touched down, his presence called to her. He spoke no words to her through the Force, but she could feel the pull of him nonetheless. That, coupled with the difference she felt in him, was enough for her to answer. She wasn't worried about him, she tried to tell herself. She didn't care at all. But if she didn't come, he would be pestering her non-stop all night, and she had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

Mara let out an irritated sigh. She knocked again, more forcefully this time. She would give him three seconds, and then she would leave.

There was a small crash within, and Mara strained her ears. She could have sworn Luke had just muttered; "Kriffing tables," in an obnoxious tone. Folding her arms across her chest, Mara waited while more sounds came from within, until the door finally activated.

She had been prepared to launch into a tirade about his presumption, to call her here and then keep her waiting. To assume that she had nothing better to do than to listen to him whine, but was halted by his haggard appearance. The first thing she noticed was the dark circles under his eyes, his sunken cheeks and matted hair - he'd obviously hadn't had much sleep. His dark, usually immaculate clothes were rumpled and well-worn, and his usually clear blue eyes had shifted to a hazy grey.

Mara catalogued this, assessing him. "Skywalker," she greeted him, raising a thin eyebrow.

"Mara... what're you doing here?"

Mara deduced from his slurred tones and the assaulting smell of alcohol that he was far past drunk. At least that explained his vagueness in the Force.

Sighing inwardly, Mara eyed him. "You called me here. Or don't you remember?"

Luke's brow creased and he appeared to be thinking. "I remember... " his eyes narrowed. "Feeling you... but I don't... "

Having heard enough, Mara turned to leave, but his hand darted out and caught her arm.

"Don't go." Luke released her, but Mara didn't miss the fact that his hand was shaking slightly. "Please."

She should leave. To let him wallow in the mess he'd created for himself. So he was hurting? Mara didn't care. But his speech, the shake of his hand, and his pleading eyes stopped her. She couldn't deny that on some small, miniscule level that his friendship meant something to her.

Decisively, Mara stalked past Luke and into the apartment. She immediately appraised it, as Mara realised she'd never actually been inside. He'd invited her numerous times, and so while she knew where it was, she'd never actually stepped across the threshold. It was sparsely decorated, with a small entertaining area of only a few couches and a holonet access terminal. Mara didn't fail to notice the largely empty bottle of Corellian brandy sitting atop a small table, nor the empty bottles on the floor next to it.

"Not one for aesthetics, are you Skywalker?" Mara walked towards the nearest couch and sat down.

Following her, Luke looked somewhat sheepish. "I really don't come here that much." He surprised her by taking a seat on the floor, at her feet, his back leaning against the base of the lounge. "Leia makes me keep it."

"I see." Mara's eyes followed Luke's movement as he reached out to grab the half-empty alcohol. "How much of that have you had?"

"Not much," he slurred. That, coupled with the numerous empty bottles littering the floor made Mara believe otherwise. She'd never before seen Skywalker drunk, although she had seen him drink, usually when he was around his Rogue Squadron friends or bad influences Han and Lando. Those men, she had seen slobbering drunk, but Luke seemed to hold his alcohol well, surprisingly. Perhaps it was the Force giving him an advantage, speeding up his metabolism faster than a normal humans, his body readily processing even large amount of alcohol without much ill effect. Mara looked at the empty bottles on the floor and guessed that's what it took to make him drunk.

She just hoped that the evening wouldn't end with her dragging him down to the nearest medcentre with alcohol poisoning. She briefly considered taking the bottle from him, but decided against it. She knew how difficult it was to pry the precious liquid from a drunk man's hands. She'd rather not have that memory about Luke.

"I saw her."

That caught Mara's attention. "Who?"

Luke sighed, and made a brave mood by tilting his head, resting it on Mara's knee. "You know who."

Callista. The name filled her with malice. She almost moved away, to prevent Luke from making a pillow of her knee, but she stopped herself. This was not the time for accusations or rejection.

"What did she say?"

"Didn't speak to her," Luke grimaced, and he pulled his head off her lap. "Said goodbye, though. Kinda." His voice became a soft whisper. "I thought once I found her, made her see... then she'd stay with me. But I didn't even try." He sniffed, and took a large gulp of the brandy. "I should have tried."

Making a decision, Mara slowly eased off the couch, and onto the floor next to him, crossing her legs. "Luke... " she began tenderly, ignoring his shocked expression at her use of his first name. "I know I can't understand what you're going through right now. But I know that this," she placed a hand over his, clutching the neck to the brandy. "Isn't going to help."

"I just don't want to hurt anymore," he mumbled, and Mara felt the acute ache of his pain through the Force.

A wave of understanding passed over her. He reminded her of herself - after the Emperor's death. Feeling so devoid of the Force, of his presence, she'd enjoyed the numbing effects of alcohol, and other things. But she also knew how little it had truly helped her. She'd only denied herself the chance to fully deal with her pain, and she couldn't allow Luke to do that.

"Please, Luke," she said softly, her fingers moving over his. Relieved, she felt his grip slacken around the bottle, and Mara gently pried it from his fingers, placing it on the floor to the other side of her.

They sat in silence for several minutes, until Luke's voice cut through the thick air. "Do you think you'll get married, Mara?"

The question unsettled her, but she answered with a quick and resolute, "No."

"Why not?"

Mara tilted her head towards him. "Because unlike you, Skywalker, I don't need to fill my life with another person to be happy. I'm perfectly content as it is."

"Not the same thing," Luke's eyes met hers.

"What?"

"Happiness," Luke explained, his nodding somewhat exaggerated. "And contentment."

Mara rolled her eyes and looked away, not deigning to give him a response.

"I don't think I'll get married, either." Luke's voice was filled with a melancholy she couldn't quite describe. "I thought I had a chance, but... " he trailed off.

They lapsed into silence again, until this time, Mara spoke up.

"Do you think you'll love again, Luke?" She surprised herself with the question. But Luke didn't seem perturbed, and eyed her keenly.

"Yeah... can't help it," he gave a self-deprecating smile. "But marriage... I don't think it's in my... path."

"Mine either," Mara admitted, suddenly feeling very close, very connected with the man seated beside her.

"I know," his gaze settled on her again. "We're the same". He smiled sadly at her, his eyes piercing her with his gaze for longer than was appropriate.

Mara exhaled heavily, a prickly, heated discomfort making itself known to her. "Gods, Skywalker, what level do you have the heat on?" The room was much warmer than she was comfortable with.

"Reminds me of home," came his simple reply. Mara wondered whether he meant Tatooine or Yavin, but didn't bother to ask. She shrugged off her jacket and flung it across the room, revealing a plain sleeveless tunic underneath.

She regretted the action when Luke began to examine her bare arms a little too closely. She grew uncomfortable under his silent scrutiny, but didn't move away from her position next to him.

"Where'd you get those scars?"

She followed his gaze down to the white marks that veined across the skin just below her shoulder. A harsh reminder of the only time she could remember the Emperor being truly cruel to her. Although she hadn't seen it that way at the time. She'd seen it as her deserved punishment for failing him. She'd been young, but she'd understood enough not to disappoint her master again.

Of course, she wasn't about to tell Luke that - she simply shrugged. "I don't remember."

He scrutinised her, narrowing his diluted eyes. "Sure."

Mara folded her arms over her chest and didn't reply. Briefly, she wondered if he had similar scars courtesy of the Emperor. What a pair they were, she thought ruefully, and gave him a small smile.

But Luke's gaze was still fixed on her, unwavering, until eventually it began to slide across her slight frame. She followed the movement, unsettled by it. His eyes drifted down over her arms, to her crossed legs and the boots she wore. He halted slightly at the blaster she wore on her hip, but he eventually moved back up to her neck and face. Mara noticed that his eyes had become even cloudier than before.

"Skywalker?"

"Hmm?" His eyes never left her features.

"What are you doing?" She tried to imbue some intimidation in her voice but it came out tinny - afraid.

"Looking," Luke replied casually. Under normal circumstances, she would have slugged a man who was "looking" at her in such a way, but something stopped her. It was Skywalker, for Sith's sake. He didn't ogle woman, at least not that Mara had ever seen. The googy-lovey eyes he'd given Callista didn't count. But she couldn't deny the look in Luke's eyes - a look she found all too familiar and unnerving.

"Luke... " This was a path she didn't want to go down.

"You have beautiful hair, Mara." He scooted closer to her, reaching a shaky hand to reverently touch the red locks that fell about her shoulders. "Please don't ever cut it."

Mara should have reminded him that she was free to do whatever she wished, that he had no say in any matter but she found herself unable to move or speak. Luke had always been openly affectionate with her, but this was different. He'd never looked at her in such a way.

Luke raised his other hand, moving it intently to her face, but lost his balance and Mara grabbed him firmly by the shoulders in order to prevent him crashing into her. She held him for a few moments, allowing him to gain his bearings. But soon Mara became all too aware of his hot breath on her throat, of his shaking hand that had come to rest on her thigh.

Moments passed in what seemed like hours, but he finally pulled away slightly. His face was very close to hers, and Mara knew she should pull away, but couldn't find the strength to do so. He continued to study her, his gaze confusing in its intensity.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" He removed his hand from her leg, reaching it up again to touch her hair, threading his fingers through the loose curls.

She shook her head, stunned. In fact, he was one of the only men who hadn't told her so on one occasion or another. She'd always appreciated that.

"I'm a fool, then." His eyes flickered over her face. "'Cause I... " His voice trailed off, then, and a precise tongue escaped his mouth, moistening his lips as he leaned in close towards her.

Mara didn't react when he gently pulled her face towards his. She didn't move when his lips brushed hers ever so briefly, before connecting with them fully. She lost all coherent thought as he kissed her soundly, as his hand wound through her hair, drawing her tightly against him. Mara couldn't do anything but respond, all logic and emotion vanishing, except for the incredible feel of his mouth and his intimate kiss.

But as soon as his lips released hers, she came to her senses, and pushed him away violently, a precise hand coming to slam against his cheek. Breathing heavily, she scrambled up off the floor, backing away from him. What had just happened? It was beyond all conceivable comprehension that Luke Skywalker had just kissed her. Mara touched her swollen lips in shock, and then anger. How dare he. She'd come to him to offer comfort and support, and he'd assaulted her. True, he was drunk to the nine Corellian hells, and definitely not in possession of his full faculties, but still. That was no excuse.

To treat her as some kind of – distraction - to help him forget. Mara felt betrayed. That after all these years, after all they'd been through together, she was nothing to him but a warm body to play out his sorrows to. That fact hurt Mara more than she ever thought it would.

She regarded his form, still sprawled out on the floor where she'd pushed him. Mara took a deep breath, restraining the urge to beat him senseless. "I'm going to do you a favour, Skywalker," she said coldly. "And pretend that never happened."

Ignoring his desperate, sorrowful call after her, Mara swept out of the apartment. It wasn't until she was outside, in the cold air, that she realised her face was wet with tears.

Luke felt the pain of his throbbing cheek deeply. He touched the tender flesh, a reminder of just how far he'd stepped over the line. But what had he really done wrong? All he'd wanted to do was show Mara how grateful he was for her, how much he cared for her. To his addled senses, it had seemed like the right move. In her presence, he'd felt better, more alive than he had in months.

Luke looked to the bottle of brandy, still sitting safely on the floor. It was a wonder Mara had not knocked it over in her rush. Thankful for small blessings, Luke's fingers closed around the cool glass, the comforting amber liquid sloshing about within. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep gulp, willing his soul's pain to go away.

Mara returned to her apartment the next morning, after a night-long argument with Karrde about her duties in his organisation. She'd firmly said that she was ready for any assignment he wanted to give her - that she needed to keep busy. He hadn't asked why, but perhaps he'd read something in her face, sensed a level on unease to her, and refused. She needed the rest, the break from work, he'd insisted. A chance to relax, spend some time on herself.

She hadn't given in easily, and spent the night trying to convince him otherwise, but to no success. Of course, simply because Karrde hadn't given her an assignment didn't mean Mara was stuck on Coruscant. She planned to leave as soon as possible, where, she wasn't quite sure. But it was a start.

The first thing she noticed upon entering her apartment was her comm flashing. Checking the small viewscreen, Mara's mood darkened when she saw that Luke Skywalker had left her a recorded message. Against her better judgement, Mara flicked the activation switch.

The small, unkempt image of the Jedi Master appeared before her. He looked horrible, for which Mara was glad. She hoped he felt even worse. Mara checked the time-code - the image had been recorded only a few hours earlier. Leaning back into her chair, Mara waited.

"Hi, Mara." The translucent Luke looked unsettled, and he ran his hands though his hair self consciously. "Uh... this may seem a bit of a strange question to be asking, but were you at my apartment last night? I only ask because I found a jacket on the floor this morning, and I know it's not Leia's. It seemed to be about your size, and I know you like the slim-cut style of those function jackets, what with all the hidden pockets and everything... "

He cleared his throat nervously. "I suppose I... overdid it a bit last night and I can't really remember much about what happened. I remember sensing you landing on Coruscant and I thought it was only logical... "

A little self-conscious laugh escaped Luke's lips. "Well, if it is your jacket, you can come pick it up, if you like. Or I can bring it to you before you leave". He paused a moment. "I - hope we didn't get into another... discussion last night. I was feeling pretty low, and the last thing I want is to have taken it out on you. So for anything I said or did - I'm sorry."

Luke took a deep breath. "So... that was really all. I suppose... I'll... see you soon." He cleared his throat again. "I hope."

Mara touched her lips lightly as the image faded away. So he'd forgotten her even being there? She was almost relieved - except for the fact that she'd left her jacket. How could she have been so careless? The last thing she wanted was incriminating evidence of her presence there. What if she went to collect her jacket and it triggered his memory of what he'd done? Mara couldn't imagine the humiliation - the awkwardness of it all.

No, she could forfeit the item, if it meant staying away from Skywalker. He'd forgotten? She'd make sure it stayed that way. She'd as good as forgotten about it herself.