The moment Sloann had laid eyes on him she'd realized he could never be fully trusted. It wasn't his continuously upright stance that threw her off, his neatly polished shoes or his freshly pressed uniform, his undying loyalty to empire or how he ordered his underlings about with a sense of confidence and assuredness that could make any woman fall into heat. No, it wasn't any of that, rather the aura of familiarity, that came with his presence, that discomforted her to her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the moment their eyes met Sloann knew that he had realized a connection as well. However, ignoring any sense of association they might have had altogether, the Lieutenant had gone right down to business on the present state of Balmorra.
That had been almost five years ago and that Lieutenant had long been made into a Captain and avoided many a sexual advance from the young Sith. "Quinn," she would purr in his ear, only to have him lean in the other direction. Walking around the ship in a towel or even just her undergarments. Easing unnecessarily into him while they sped over desert, bog, and snow. All this to no avail.
Why was it that the only man she'd ever really wanted, didn't seem to want her? Of course she did notice the occasional glance he had made in her direction, watching her when he thought she wasn't paying attention, but he had never made any sort of move on her other than to clean, patch, and heal her battle wounds. To Sloann, Quinn seemed to be… an anomaly. One that she was quite frustrated with and, even with five years, she had never gotten used to the idea that I man did not want her. And well, she was tired of it. As soon as they'd left Taris, Sloann had relished the opportunity to jump at another male to release her pent up, sexual tension whenever she pleased. And the strong, sturdy, set trooper, had given her just that. Willing him to her, using nothing but the gifts the gods had given her, the Lieutenant was an easy target. However, adequate as he was in bed, he was no challenge. Always eager, there was no thrill of the chase; no "Good Hunting" as the Mandalorians would say.
Sighing, Sloann leaned back in on the Captain's chair gazing up at the ceiling. The sudden urge to stretch propelled the lean onward as she gave into a yawn as well. It was approximately 1:50, common time, and the rest of the crew were planetside hitting up various clubs. Dressed in only a bralette and her boy shorts, Sloann had made the decision to stay aboard the Fury for her own little form of R&R. She had never enjoyed the stinking, city planet much anyways.
With the ship's lights turned down to dim, sleep etched its way into her, imbedding its tantalizing waves around her. Resting herself down in the chair's intended seating position, Sloann gazed out at the stars for a moment as her eyes grew heavy and she began to descend into the world of dreams.
The dream was the same as every one before it, a nightmare no less. Recollections of the past that continued to haunt her even when her skills with a blade and her ability to use the force were sharpened and honed to its maximum potential.
Sloann woke with a start as the soft hissing sound of the ship's door opening, ignorable to the unattuned ear, jarred her awake. Carefully Sloann lifted herself up off the chair and down lightly onto the cool metal floor. Someone was had boarded her ship. Sloan reached for her lightsaber only to realize what she was wearing. No matter, she would deal with the intruder the only way a Sith like her knew how. With force, no pun intended.
Eyes still heavy and senses groggy from sleep, Sloan crept quietly around the corner as best she could. The smell of the noxious planet wafted itself around her, nearly cause her to cough from the fumes; and for a moment she thought she had coughed and given away her position, until she realized that the coughing had come from up ahead. Peeking around the doorway and from behind the powered down droid, Sloan could see no one in the main room and she urged herself fearlessly onward.
Clothes littered the floor in a somehow organized manner that Sloann recognized immediately, and with an unexpected wave of distress. A grey and black military uniform, somewhat hastily folded on the ground with a pair of pants, boots, and a blaster lay before her.
"Quinn," she murmured to herself in the dark.
"My - my Lord!" a startled voice came from behind her as she whirled around to lock eyes with the Captain, pleased to find him alone. Startled, he now struggled to sit up from his previously horizontal position. "I'm - my apologies, my Lord. I hadn't expected you to be awake."
"Do you always lay on the couch in your briefs, Captain, or is that just when you don't think anyone is around to see it?" Sloann smirked.
Given time, the Captain composed himself and apologized once more, "I really should have just gone straight to my quarters. My apologies, my Lord."
"Yes," Sloann stated, "You really should have," she continued receiving a slight frown from the Captain. "Well?"
"Excuse me, my Lord?" Quinn struggled once again then realized. "Ah, yes. Well see, we both know I've never grown a particularly fond interest for this planet, and when you ordered that everyone leave the ship for the night I imagined I might reboard and find rest aboard the Fury once you had retired." Sleepily thinking back, Sloann realized she had sent everyone away for the night, leaving the ship empty save for the two of them, "I was clearly wrong."
"Clearly, but as long as you're here you might as well make up for your disobedience," she stated, slowly taking a step towards Quinn in between each word until she stood before him. The Captain had risen by this point and now stood several inches taller than her, forcing Sloann to look up in order to make eye contact.
The two of them now stood so closely that she could not only smell the smoke and alcohol of Nar Shaddaa on him, but also the redolence of his skin and the light scent of aftershave. The Captain had never bothered with the unnecessary spritz of cologne and as far and Sloann was concerned, she was fine with his natural musk, as they called it.
"My Lord."
"Hmmm?" she purred.
"We really shouldn't get - "
She had enough, with one swift move, Sloann had pressed her lips firmly against his while wrapping both her hands around his neck. For a moment, she fear her wouldn't kiss her back, or worse, that he would push her away; but milliseconds later, his hands were wrapped around her. Gripping the back of her neck and around her waist, the Captain, pulled Sloann in, deepening the kiss. Both of them fought for dominance but eventually Sloann gave in, eager to see the Captain take charge like he once had on Balmorra all those years ago.
But as fast as it had started, Quinn ended it.
"I'm sorry my Lord, but we can't. If either of us were to become emotionally compromised, it might affect the integrity of - "
"Oh shut up Quinn!" Sloann demanded, nearling attacking him with another flurry of kisses, and this time the Captain gave in completely. Sloann could feel his hands roaming her body, feeling her in places that his medical attention hadn't yet allowed him to; and her hands explored his chiseled body as well. "My room," Sloan breathed in between kisses, receiving a sort of "mhmm" in agreement from Quinn.
And somehow, through the desperation and desire of passion, the two of them made it to Sloann's room, while successfully avoiding any painful bumps against the doorway or hall that they might have encountered. Not that either of them would have minded or noticed.
Once in the room, Quinn immediately took charge as her threw Sloann on to the bed, giving him time to remove his remaining items of clothing. Pausing for a breath the Captain gazed at the her, eyes hungry. Sloan smirked, suddenly realizing how impatient she was growing, she remarked, "Well Captain, are you going to please me or am I going to have to do it myself?"
"No further encouragement needed," Quinn stated as he knelt onto the bed in between her legs, again looking down at her from above.