Strangers in the night, exchanging glances
Wondering in the night; what were the chances?
We'd be sharing love before the night was through

"Thank you," she said. She fell into step beside him and pulled on her coat. It was the same shade of blue as the rest of her outfit, its edges trimmed with fine white fur. "I don't like walking alone at night," she said with a nervous smile.

"I don't blame you." Kallus wasn't a religious man, but he prayed to whatever deity was listening that she would keep the small talk to a minimum. He was too exhausted to talk.

A god must have heard him, because she was silent the rest of the way down the hall. It was only when they entered the elevator and he'd pressed the button for the ground floor that she spoke. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you know how to break the chronometer?"

The truth was that several years ago, he was investigating a bug in a coworker's desk when his comlink went off. He sat up so fast that he knocked his head against the device, jarring it out of place and leaving him with a cut forehead. She'd laughed at him, but the joke was on her when every report she sent out was dated for noon of the following day. Not one to let useful knowledge go to waste, he'd used the trick to his benefit more times than he cared to admit.

But he wasn't going to tell her that. He settled for a small, wry smile. "You learn many odd things in my line of work," he said.

She seemed satisfied with his answer. "I can't say that I envy you," she said. "I don't think I could stand moving around as much as you do."

"I'm used to it."

The elevator doors opened. They stepped out, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous lobby. It was the only part of the building that didn't look totally utilitarian, with large picture windows that flooded the room with the bright light of Lothal's twin moons. It was the one thing he like about the planet. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but growing up on a city-planet that never slept left him uneasy in the night on less developed planets.

The night breeze nipped at his face as they exited the building, cold enough to make him shudder. He hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets, his sigh of frustration condensing into white smoke in front of him.

Tua's laugh was light as she flipped her hood over her head. "Not used to everything, I see," she said. "Here." He tried to move out of range of her hands, but they were on the lapels of his coat before he could take a step back. With a snap of her wrists, she popped his collar. "So you're not all bunched up. Where did you say your apartment was again?"

He usually hated having the collar up, but his neck was noticeably less cold, so he didn't protest. He did let out another frustrated sigh, however. "I never said anything about it."

"Well, what street is it?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I might know a shortcut."

Shortcuts were good. "North Beacon."

She pursed her lips as she thought. "There's an alley off of Tovar Drive that connects to South Beacon. It would save you about ten minutes," she said. "It's close to my own home. I could show you where it is, if you'd like."

"Lead the way."

The walk from the Imperial Complex to her home was relatively short, but between the cold numbing his face and exhaustion making his limbs and eyelids feel like lead, it felt like a hundred kilometers. He had to fight to keep his feet from dragging, and he was sure he nearly fell asleep standing up as they waited to cross a street. She seemed to have finally figured out that he was in no mood to talk, and she said little aside from the occasional "this way."

After what felt like hours, she stopped in front of a well-kept townhouse. "And here we are," she said. She turned to him. "I really can't thank you enough-"

He held up his hand to stop her. Not out of any sense of modesty. He could barely keep his eyes open. "Think nothing of it."

She seemed to understand. She pointed across the street. "That way, third one down," she said. She gave him a warm, genuine smile. "Sleep well, Agent."

He nodded his head and turned away. Finally, he could go home. He was punchy enough to let a wide grin spread across his face. He couldn't wait to kick his boots off, strip down to his skivvies, crash into bed and wrap himself up in the blankets-

"Kallus!"

He snapped out of his reverie in time to see bright lights coming towards him. Something ripped as he was jerked backwards, causing him to stumble on the curb and land on his back. A pair of landspeeders zipped past, both brightly colored and going at least twice the speed limit.

The realization of what just happened hit him like a stampeding bantha. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd walked right into a street race and nearly gotten hit.

Tua had pulled him back, and she still gripped his sleeve. She had the same horrified expression she had when Aresko and Grint had been killed, wide-eyed and on the brink of tears. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

It took a lot to rattle Kallus. Life or death situations were a common occurrence in his life. A firefight was trivial, and he could come out of a high-speed chase like it was nothing. But that… that wasn't a combat situation. That was his own stupidity, plain and simple. It felt like a pit had opened in his stomach.

"I'm fine," he said. He knew she wouldn't believe him. He said it for his own benefit, a futile attempt to calm his racing mind.

She tried to help him to his feet, but he shook her off. "I can't let you walk home like this," she said. "You'll get yourself killed."

"Then what do you propose I do?"

"I have a spare room," she said. "You'll stay here for the night."

He shook his head. "I can't-"

"That wasn't a suggestion." She crossed her arms, looking at him the way a mother would a petulant child.

He didn't like the idea. Didn't like it at all. It would be unprofessional, for one thing. Second, the rumor mill was a vicious, vicious thing. If anyone caught wind that he had spent the night at her house, it would be both of their positions on the line. Third, he just wanted to go home, was that so much to ask?

Gradually, the rational part of his mind won out. She was right. He was tired enough that it was affecting his better judgement. The next time he crossed a road, there wouldn't be anyone to pull him out of the way. He wasn't familiar with this part of the city, either. Getting lost on a night like this would be a death sentence. As much as he didn't want to, it was the best solution.

"Fine," he said curtly. He followed her to the front door and watched as she swiped her key through the reader. It unlocked with a click, and a rush of warm air hit his face.

The door opened into a clean, sweet-smelling kitchen with a small table. Various appliances adorned the counters, arranged neatly against the wall. There were two doorways, one leading to a living room area and the other to a hallway that ended in a set of stairs.

She pulled her boots off and set them by the door. "I'll just be a minute," she said. "Feel free to make yourself at home." She entered the hallway and went up the stairs, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He removed his boots and coat, setting the former next to hers as he examined the latter. The rip in his sleeve was about as long as his hand, from the tip of his middle finger to the heel of his palm. Far too long for him to repair with his rudimentary sewing skills. He slung it over the back of the chair and turned his attention to the living room.

Large windows filling the room with light didn't prevent him from whacking his shin on a low-lying table. A holograph clattered as it fell over. Not even three hours past midnight and he was already having a bad day. That had to be some sort of record.

He reset the holograph. It was of Tua standing between her parents, dressed in the traditional garb of an Imperial Academy graduate. Her father leaned on a cane and her mother had gray streaks in her blonde hair, but the resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny.

"I've been told that I look like her, but I don't see it." Tua was standing in the doorway, watching him with a smile. He thought about suggesting that she see an optometrist, but insulting the person who was giving you a place to sleep was poor form. "In any case, your room is ready.

He followed her up the stairs and into a wide hallway lined with pictures. She led him into the second door on the left. It opened into a cozy bedroom filled with warm colors. An intricate quilt adorned the bedspread, covering the layers of blankets the winter weather necessitated. A round, old-fashioned clock ticked on the wall.

"The 'fresher is the just across the hall," she said. "If you need anything, I'm at the end."

"Thank you, Minister," he said. His gratitude was genuine, even if he'd be somewhere else.

"Sleep well," she said. She left, the door closing behind her.

"I'll try," he muttered. Not like he had much of a choice at this point.

Epigraph taken from "Strangers in the Night," made famous by Frank Sinatra.