AN: Ooooh, I think this is my favorite chapter so far! That being said, there will only be one or two more chapters in this story, and then we move onto Shooting the Gap, which is the story I really wanted to write in the first place.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars: The Clone Wars.

We think too much and feel too little. –Charlie Chaplin

Chapter 5

"I am Jedi Knight Kieria Irrden," Kieria began to introduce herself, then paused and sent an appraising glance over Wolffe for half a second. Inside the luxury of his bucket, Wolffe slid his eyes to meet her glance without his head moving. "And this is Commander Wolffe", she surprised him by not only introducing him as well, but using his name instead of his numbers. Something instead him flipped for a moment, hearing her say his name in that smooth Core accent again. The exchange was minuscule, unnoticed by anyone but him, but it made a world of a difference.

It was something to dwell on through the next few hours as he stood at attention behind Kieria, listening to the leaders argue minuscule points and repeat themselves. He was glad he could hide behind his bucket, because he felt his expression dropping more and more into a grimace with each passing moment.

Wolffe was caught off guard by her use of his name, because before, she had always insisted on using either his numbers or rank. Hearing her say his name set off memory after memory, images he had fought hard to keep at arm's length since they happened, memories he wanted to forget. From the moment he had returned to the Triumphant from Aleen and given General Koon his report, Wolffe had closed the door on those memories, accepted it as something that had happened but never would again. Thinking about it led to too many confusing feelings, and a soldier didn't have time for that nonsense, especially nonsense that was never going to be seen again. So he had pushed it from his mind. For a few months, he had been fine. Whenever something reminded him of the dancing flames, a thousand shades of russet-colored rock, or the play of orange light over bare skin, he firmly shut it from his mind and focused on something else.

If he occasionally, in the late hours of the night, let himself slip more deeply back into the hazy memory in order to find temporary release, he would never admit it.

And then, just like that, he'd walked onto the bridge of the Triumphant to find Kieria Irrden had risen from his memories and was on her way back to haunt him. He was unprepared to face her again, and Wolffe hated to be unprepared. His original plan for this mission was to spend it guarding the Prime Minister as much as possible, but thus far it seemed like she was keen to keep him close to her. Already, he felt Aleen hanging in the air between them, tension growing, waiting for either of them to acknowledge it. It wasn't going to be him.

And that was the root of his problem, because Wolffe wasn't good at facing strong emotions. He was a very private man, and he didn't open up to people easily. Kieria had seen an intimate side of Wolffe, one he hadn't exactly offered her, and that gave her opportunity to hurt him, something to use against him. She could threaten a dozen things to buy his compliance now, and he didn't trust someone with that sort of power over him. He didn't really blame her or hold it against her; he hadn't been thinking right either and had made the same mistake, but he hadn't been prepared for it. Now he just didn't know how to face her after it, he didn't know where he stood with her. That night on Aleen had been among the happiest of Wolffe's short life, and he'd longed to have it back since then, but he knew it was a mistake, and he needed to fix it. Some days he clung to the happy memory, and some days he wanted to forget it because it stabbed too much. He wasn't even entirely sure of all the emotions he felt.

But how did he, a private man, convey that to the beautiful, solemn Jedi? He had never been trained in normal civilian situations, much less one this complicated.

He was a soldier. There wasn't supposed to be anything complicated in his life, beyond planning out the next mission. She was his commanding officer; the regulations, as important to Wolffe as breathing, were very clear about fraternization. It grated on his nerves that he had made such a mistake, if the rest of his company found out, he would lose face.

And really, it wasn't complicated. She was beautiful, while he shared a face with three million other men, most of whom did not have such ugly, disfiguring scars. Nothing would ever have happened between them if they hadn't been under the influence of something, and it wasn't going to happen again.

At least he had a chance to study Kieria while she was distracted. He liked her hair loose, he had never realized how long it was, when it was tied up tight on Aleen in an effort to avoid the heat. Or perhaps it had grown in the intervening months since he had seen her last. He could imagine tangling his fingers in it while kissing her again, he thought he remembered doing that before… Not that he remembered the first time, exactly. Some images from that night stood out crystal clear, and some remained a blur and he desperately wished they weren't, because then it could give him more solace on lonely nights and he could get some use out of the haunting memories.

It was exhausting, juggling the regret of a mistake with the longing to repeat it.

While Kieria repeated for the third time that the Republic would allow Roche to remain neutral if they so desired, his troopers checked in, providing a welcome distraction. They weren't happy about being ordered to go with the security chief so quickly. Wolffe privately agreed with them, and he thought Kieria had given in too easily, but he couldn't appear to be at odds with the General in front of his squad, so he had pointed out that at least they could look around and scout for trouble. They'd been assigned to perimeter patrol of the government tower, paired off, so at least they weren't alone. Boost complained of boredom a few more times. For himself, Wolffe was mostly concerned about the Prime Minister, remembering General Koon's instructions. Despite An'Gulan's reassuring words, he saw only two body guards in the room with them, and the two door guards. He hardly took his eyes off the battle droids behind Rhew, though they never moved. General Irrden really should insist on adding his clones to the Prime Minister's repertoire, and he decided to bring that up at the first chance he got.

Finally, Prime Minister Et'Dallenian ended the meeting, despite protests from the Separatist General. Representative An'Gulan sent a member of the staff to show Kieria the way to her rooms, and Wolffe followed along silently, while Kieria plied the young man with polite questions about the weather on Roche. He needed to know where to find her if he couldn't raise her by comms, and he still needed to speak with her. They rode the lift down a few levels and walked across a sky bridge to another tower—Roche apparently had bad storms frequently since everything was enclosed. Then they went up another lift to the 6th floor. The man gave Kieria the code to the door and then left with a polite bow, saying something about An'Gulan inviting her to dinner. The Jedi opened the door and stepped inside, looking around. Wolffe took two steps inside and gaped under the cover of his helmet, feeling bad for walking on the lush carpet in his dirty boots. The apartment was several spacious rooms, the nicest space he had ever seen. The first one was full of comfortable chairs arranged in a large circle. To the left he saw what looked like a kitchen, and to the back, he could just glimpse the edge of a bed through another doorway. A bed plenty large for two people and, unbidden, erotic images of rolling Kieria under him on that much space rose in mind before he could stop them. He swallowed hard and turned the other way.

Kieria did a very brief turn around the front room, eyes glancing around. "Come on, let's go see the men," the Jedi said, facing him and the door again, not even bothering to inspect the bedroom or any other room. "And I want a look around without an escort."

"Yes, General. That's a good idea," Wolffe quickly agreed, surprised by how level his voice sounded, taking two steps right back out into the hallway and out of her way.

The dark blonde woman sighed quietly as she followed him into the hallway and the door slid shut with a whirr. "Wolffe, it's probably not a good idea to call me General, considering we're at peace talks. Can you at least settle for ma'am?"

"Yes ma'am," he agreed quickly, his heart skipping a beat at hearing her say his name again, though he tried very hard not to let it. He'd rather call her Kieria, the way he had before, but he knew that would be far too informal. Inappropriate. Yet another thing he would never do again. And it seemed like she was going to continue using his name, though unease bloomed in his chest. He wanted her to use his name of course, but hearing it reminded him of other things that he could never have.

"And you don't have to wear your helmet all the time either, you know. You can take it off whenever you want. It would probably be good for the Prime Minister and Representative to see you without it a couple of times," she added as they walked back down the hallway to the lift. It seemed to be the only way to get to this floor. He made a note of that possible security flaw.

"Yes, ma'am," Wolffe repeated as they waited for the lift doors to open, then realized that might have been an order he should follow immediately. He hesitated, then reached up and pulled his helmet off his head, tucking it under his arm. Her eyes skimmed over his face and she gave him a soft smile, but he didn't even try and decipher the meaning. He fought the urge to turn his scarred face away from her pretty eyes and kept a stony expression. Then they were back in the lift, silent, side by side. Wolffe struggled to pull his mind back to task; he was a disciplined soldier, to let his mind wander was dangerous. He remembered his resolve to ask her to press the issue of the Prime Minister's bodyguards again.

"Lysannamia," Kieria said suddenly, right as he opened his mouth to speak. He wondered with irritation if she'd done it on purpose. He closed his mouth again and swallowed his annoyance.

"What?" was his in eloquent answer, having no idea what she was talking about.

"I did some research. That's a plant the Aleena often drink at ceremonies that quickly intoxicates them," she explained rapidly. "But when consumed by humans, it has the added side affect of being a powerful aphrodisiac. Some company discovered that and is now exporting it. That's what we were under…back on Aleen," she finished quietly, but by then he'd already connected the nav points. He felt a feeling of dread settle in his guts. They were finally talking about it.

The lift arrived at their destination and stopped.

"Oh," was all Wolffe could think to say when the doors opened. Kieria was off, striding down the hallway, and he had to take a few long strides to catch up to her again. Still not knowing how to respond, he fell back on what he had been planning to say.

"Ma'am, I think you need to speak with Representative An'Gulan again about having us protect the Prime Minister," he started.

She sighed, and stopped walking, turning to look at him. "Commander, I understand your concerns. But please, let me worry about this. There are some very sensitive things going on here, which we don't understand yet. I can...feel An'Gulan's concern; there is a rebel cell, possibly large, but she truly believes the Prime Minister is safe. We can't push too hard too soon."

But Wolffe, remembering his promise to Plo Koon, couldn't leave her to worry about it based on a feeling. She was compartmentalizing, cutting him out, not telling him things. Clones were taught to communicate, because withholding information could be dangerous. He wished she would trust him, the way Koon did. Wolffe enjoyed that relationship with General Koon; the Kel Dor Jedi left most of managing his men to Wolffe. He'd had quite enough of this. The conflicting orders in his head were giving him a headache, which almost always turned into shooting pain in his cybernetic eye, which always made him grumpy.

"With all due respect, ma'am...I can't do that," he said firmly, drawing himself up to his full height. Kieria, turning to continue walking, paused and gave him her full attention again. He was both surprised and pleased that she was willing to listen to him and didn't seem upset by the fact he was ignoring her orders.

XXXXX

Kieria was surprised that Wolffe was defying her; the man had always been the perfect clone soldier, following orders to the letter with a smart "yes ma'am". And that made her pause and consider him, because she knew he wouldn't act out without good reason. She did not want to be at odds with him. Clone commanders were specially trained to negotiate with civilian officers, she remembered, and were assigned to Jedi to help prevent oversights. Besides, they had time to talk.

And what really stilled her steps was a feeling of direction from the Force that rolled over her right then, the order clear: Wait here. As always, Kieria listened to the Force.

Wolffe continued talking, once again telling her that the Prime Minister needed more guards in that curt, yet earnest manner he had that she enjoyed. His voice, while sharp edged, was actually pleasing to listen to.

Yes, she agreed with him; she intended to stay as close to the man to guard him herself as possible. But she was curious why the commander was defying orders, and hence more focused on listening to his internal dialogue instead of his vocal one. Kieria was not as adept as some of her peers at glimpsing into the minds of others, and part of her hated to do so. Looking at someone's intimate thoughts without permission felt too much like an intrusion, so she kept her touch shallow. For her, it was like just brushing the barest edges of his worries, his deep concerns, the things always present in Wolffe. There was always a calm surety about him; the man had confidence in spades, but not a lick of arrogance. He knew his place in the world and was comfortable with it. He was like a solid rock in the Force, very grounded. She found she was very attracted to that.

His eye caused him almost constant pain; she knew cybernetics were experimental at best, but she was astounded at his tolerance level and how he could concentrate through the pain. She wondered, not for the first time, how he had gotten that awful scar. She'd have to offer to help with that later; if he let her use the Force, she felt she could alleviate that, at least for a time.

But she was sensing an awful lot of turmoil inside Wolffe as well: confusion, indecision, an inner battle, and she sensed a lot of it centered on her. That wasn't good. The last thing she wanted was to cause him trouble. She would need to carefully consider these feelings and find a way to fix it.

She felt other things, too. His loyalty to Master Koon touched her heart. That was why he defied her: he was following other orders. It disappointed her that Master Koon had felt the need to give him orders. She felt a prick of jealousy at how deeply Wolffe trusted Master Plo Koon, both that Wolffe trusted someone else more than her, and that someone could trust so freely. As Bea had pointed it, she still had a problem with that. But she willed her negative feelings to flow away with the Force, knowing better than to dwell on them, and focused on Wolffe's words once again.

"General Koon warned me that the Separatists could try to kill the Prime Minister to make the Republic look bad—" Wolffe was saying, but Kieria didn't hear anymore, because right then a warning surged in the Force.

Someone was coming, and her instincts told her to stay out of sight. She moved on reflex, hurrying to the side of the hallway, where she had noted before that the large bulkheads provided room for a body behind a wall. Wolffe's mouth snapped shut with a click as he read the sudden change in her body language from relaxed to alert and he followed most of the way to the side, pausing with uncertainty at the last moment, glancing down the empty hallway as if wondering who in the world she was hiding from, or if she was barvy. "Ma'am...?"

The warning grew urgent, leaving no time for talk. Kieria lunged for him, wrapped her arms around Wolffe's waist, hooked her fingers in his belt at his back, and pulled, throwing them both to her right. Effectively, she dragged them both into the corner created between the bulkhead and the wall, and out of sight of anyone down one side of the hallway.

She was only able to shift the larger man with the help of the Force. Now she was wedged quite securely, her back against the wall, right shoulder against the bulkhead, and Wolffe was pressed flush to her front. He stared down at her in surprise. She found she actually rather liked the feeling of being so close, she noted but she had no time to dwell on it, listening intently to the Force. Fortunately, her sudden move had caught him off guard and he'd stopped talking, suddenly realizing how close they were together. His face turned an amusing shade of red, and contorted in a very grumpy expression. Then he seemed to recover and went to pull away, taking a breath to say something else. And right then, the Force flared a final warning—whoever it was was very close.

With her hands still effectively pinned around his waist, Kieria did the only other thing she could to keep him quiet.

She pressed up on her tip toes and kissed him.

XXXXX

For a split second, Wolffe's eyes widened in shock, every other thought being driven out of his head at the moment. Lust rushed through him, hot and searing, and he responded almost instinctively to Kieria's kiss. The clone leaned down and kissed her back hard, pressing her head back against the wall behind her, his kiss deep and slightly rough. Feeling her body pinned against him again, he almost forgot entirely where they were. His heart was racing, his one free hand settled on her waist without him even realizing it. Her mouth was so soft under his, just as he'd remembered it. But something was different, and it took him a minute to realize that she wasn't really kissing him back, for all that she'd started this.

Hearing a door hiss open and footsteps somewhere nearby, Wolffe finally got himself back under control and pulled back, ending their kiss. They stared at each other for a moment. His heart was beating fast and he struggled to control it. Kieria's grip on him tightened, to keep him still, then her gaze flickered over his shoulder and grew distant, the way someone looked when they were listening to something, and he understood. His face flushed again, embarrassed by the strength of his reaction, at showing so much emotion, and he pulled his eyes away from hers to stare over her head at the wall. Standing in a tight corner, their bodies so close together that every time he inhaled he caught the scent of her hair, they listened to someone down the hall speaking.

Wolffe only heard one set of foot steps, so he assumed the person was on a comm call.

"The Republic sent a Jedi," the voice, male, was saying, shaky and frightened. Wolffe imagined him looking around in fear of eavesdroppers.

"It changes nothing," came the reply, much steadier, firm with resolve. "Carry out the plan as discussed, and don't take too long about it. If the Prime Minister won't listen, kill him. Make the people believe the Republic is inadequate to keep them safe."

"The Jedi brought clones with her. They've been added to the security force. Sneaking around is getting trickier," the first speaker said nervously.

"Then kill her too," the person on the comm said. "Kill them all, if you have to."

That was all Wolffe needed to hear. Eyes hardening, the Commander began to pull away, intending on arresting whoever it was immediately. But he found himself being pulled back into her. Kriffing hell, she had to be using the Force, as slim as she was and he in full armor. He didn't want to hurt her, but now annoyed, the Commander struggled, glared at her, and opened his mouth to yell.

And with a small leap, Kieria leaned up and kissed him again, one arm settling around his neck and dragging his head down.

Fek.

This time she was truly kissing him, blunt teeth on his lower lip. Now he knew his face was bright red. He was torn, plain and simple, between enjoying the soft press of her mouth and body and chasing down the man, growing annoyed that she could throw him off balance so easily. And he shouldn't be torn, the correct choice was obvious, he should do his duty. Before he had time to make a decision, break free or stay, they both heard the door hiss shut behind whoever the would-be assailant was.

Wolffe came back to his senses and leaped back from her, ready to chase him down, and this time Kieria let him, though her hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. He shook her off and slammed his helmet back on his head before she could kiss him again. His armor felt a bit tight in some places now.

"Wolffe, wait. Listen to me!"

"Why the kriffing hell wouldn't you let me arrest him!?" he hissed, too angry and annoyed to worry about rank for a moment. He was frustrated in more ways than one. "General Koon warned me about this. They said they were going to kill the Prime Minister!"

"Wolffe," she said firmly, drawing his eyes back to her, and the way she called his name, pleading with him…his feet stayed rooted to the spot, and though he clenched his jaw, he paused. "It's too soon. If we take down this man now, we will only get part of it. They'll just send another man, but this time they'll know we're onto them. That will make our job harder. Right now, we have the advantage, and the element of surprise. As soon as we lose that, this whole place will dissolve into a firefight. The security will be tightened; the Separatists will try to break in forcefully, and who knows who will get caught in the crossfire. We have to wait until we know more about who we're dealing with," she said, slowly and firmly, staring him in the eyes.

He worked his jaw back and forth, fighting with indecision and hating the feeling.

"Wolffe, I don't know what Master Koon told you, but I don't want to see innocent lives lost anymore than you, and I will fight to protect that. I know I'm called 'the Spineless'," and for the first time he saw…not quite hurt, but sadness in her eyes. "And I know my conduct towards you hasn't always been...what you deserve. But I need you to trust me. Please." Her gaze dropped sadly. "If I was Master Koon, you would trust me," she added softly, and he knew it was true, and hated it. Under the safety of his bucket, he grimaced. Two commanding officers who didn't trust each other was just asking for mission failure.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, Kieria waiting, Wolffe thinking. What she said made sense, and it was true that he was better trained for all out combat than sneaking around. Agreeing with her but chagrined about it, he couldn't help but be mulish.

"And what about the conversation we just overheard? We have no proof of it."

She seemed to understand he was agreeing and relaxed. Then smiled. "Is one of your men a tech specialist?"

He nodded. "Wires."

Her lips twitched up in a smile. "Apt name. Have him plug into the communications network; there must be some record of that call. Give him our coordinates and tell him to look for any comm calls coming from here a few minutes ago, and see if he can trace who the comlink belonged to. Incoming and outgoing, and possibly with an off planet destination," she said, and Wolffe, finally fully beaten, nodded in agreement. He opened a comm channel with a series of blinks to his HUD to call Wires. The corporal answered after a moment and promised to start to work immediately.

AN: Yes, I'm shrieking in happiness too.