Author's Note: My apologies for this being up late. We lost a furry member of my family yesterday [the picture in my avatar actually - Cookie] and I'm still in shock.

Day Five is about 10K long and will be in two parts. Thanks for reading guys, and for your patience

Mission Day Five - Part One

Rex didn't sleep.

Ahsoka's parting shot, and subsequent dream, had tied him in knots and destroyed his attempts to put some distance between them.

The mission, he reminded himself sternly, for the umpteenth time. Somehow during the day he'd found the strength to corral his baser urges and focus on what needed to be done. It hadn't been easy, and they kept slipping unbidden into his thoughts, but through sheer force of will, he'd managed to focus.

With no sign of their target yet, Rex was starting to wonder if intelligence had steered them wrong. If this whole farce was all for nothing, heads were going to roll - starting with General Kenobi. Not that he'd ever strike a Jedi but having a brief, pointed talk with the General would make him feel better.

Rex spent his day researching Zeltrons, among other things, to better prepare himself for Zidel's next trick. Ahsoka had made an enemy and there was no doubt in his mind that this adversary wouldn't try again. Zidel had been humiliated and insulted in front of her employer and Rex suspected she would attempt to do something just as public to regain the favor of her boss.

Hopefully she'd try it against him but Rex suspected Ahsoka would be the target.

Zidel, unfortunately, seemed to be the opposite of everything he read about the species, leading him to believe that she was likely unique in ways that other Zeltrons. Everyone was compared to the basic template in a database, but Zidel seemed to really break the mold and he came away from the research session is more questions than answers.

He did, however, learned about their abilities and found he was better prepared mentally to deal with the temptations she might try. Being aware of the manipulation was half the battle; if he could resist Ahsoka, to whom he felt a strong attraction, and not just a physical one, he could certainly resist any false allure some two bit dancer attempted to impose upon him.

Though, his ability to resist Ahsoka was being tested daily and Rex feared it was only a matter of time before-

"Have you been at that terminal all day?"

He turned in the chair to find Ahsoka looking at him from the doorway to the bedroom. She was dressed in a robe, by far the most concealing thing he'd seen her wear in days - aside from his coat - and he was grateful. After her dream, he wasn't sure how he would have reacted if she'd addressed him at that moment in one of her costumes.

"Recon," he reached over to turn off the display without looking, "the more I know about Zeltrons, the better prepared I'll be able to deal with Zidel tonight."

Ahsoka's smile was tolerant and wry; there was no sign of the tension that had been between them before she'd gone to bed and for that he was grateful. He had no intention of enlightening her to what he'd witnessed; he had no intention of making this more difficult than it already was between them.

"There won't always be a holonet you can access to fact find."

"Agreed - but it makes no sense not to use it, since we have it."

"I can't argue that; did you sleep at all?"

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't my question," she frowned. "Resistance to influences aren't all mental, Rex; there is a physical component. If you're tired, there's a better chance someone will succeed."

"I know."

"Then shouldn't you-"

"I'm fine, Ahsoka," he assured her, getting to his feet. "A shower and a change of clothes and we can go."

"For you - or for me?"

We could share. He bit back the groan that accompanied the image which sprang immediately to mind. Knowing she might have been teasing, he was unable to help himself. "You first," his throat was tight, his voice sounding off even to himself.

"You sure, Rex? You sound-"

"Go," he insisted, "I'm not done just yet."

For a moment he didn't think she'd go but then she nodded and left, leaving him once again to his own devices. He waited until he could hear the shower running and counted backwards from thirty before entering the bedroom.

With limited clothes, he was forced to rotate day to day; a hidden wall compartment he'd found in the bedroom held a clothes service access he'd been using. Collecting the clean clothing, he exited the room, leaving it on the table, before going to where his jacket was hanging on the wall. Reaching into the pockets, he began his other ritual.

Withdrawing the credit pouches within, he carried them back to the table and placed it next to the leathers. It was hefty and clinked with the sound of many credit chits, more than he'd ever be able to spend in his lifetime, he suspected, and upended the first pouch. It held Ahsoka's earnings for the night before.

Emptying the credits on the table, he grasped the distraction for what it was and set about separating the credit chits by denominations. He'd killed another two patrons the night before, after turning down Rhyn's offer to buy Ahsoka's time for the night, which was turning into his normal night.

He felt no remorse for having killed the lowlifes the last few days; they were a threat to his Commander, to Ahsoka - males of their species who would have been willing to pay his inflated fee for the chance to get a taste of a forbidden and exotic flavor.

Rex would have done anything to keep them from her and felt no regrets for it.

His reward for that protection was an untouched credit pouch from each one. He went through those first, checking the chit markers and using his datapad to verify the contents. Each series of chits were placed in different piles with the primary account marker, which would require a slice by someone more proficient with security settings than he, were set to the side.

Both pouches were quickly gone through, revealing several hundred credits in one and several thousand in the other. Both males had been prepared to spend good credits to gain the favors of the dancers at The Catalyst, but neither had been able to afford his asking price for Ahsoka.

Aside from the two credit chit bags from the dead patrons, Rex had a third bag from Rhyn with Ahsoka's cut from the night. What she'd earned in 'tips' by credits along with her cut from the house yielded smaller credit chits, but many of them.

The briefing report hadn't said anything about actually making credits, but then, their objective hadn't been to supply funds; it was to obtain the information crystal and nothing else. She'd already made several thousand credits and Rex wasn't sure what to do with them.

Everything they needed had been provided for them, likely to facilitate their mission, but that left him at loose ends. Separating the credit chits, he began to pile them together, shaking his head as he calculated the tens of thousands of credits that were now in their possession.

What does one do with this many credits?

"Rex?" her hand touched his shoulder; he hadn't heard her emerge from the bedroom, "What're you doing?"

He glanced up at her to find her curious expression on the credit chits and waved one hand at the haul. "Your cut from the club."

Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. "My..." cerulean irises darted to his, "I didn't earn all of this."

"No?"

"I've only been dancing for a couple of nights, there's no way I made all of that."

Rex smiled faintly and turned back to the table, opening one of the pouches and beginning to put the smaller credit chits inside. He didn't answer her, tucking the credit chits away into the bags based on denominations.

"Rex - I didn't... I couldn't have-" she exhaled, paused and then, to his amusement became almost quiet. "How much?"

"Twelve thousand, five hundred and seventy two."

"Twelve..." Ahsoka leaned heavily against his back. "You're kidding me."

"No."

"Come on, Rex, twelve thousand?"

"and five hundred and seventy two." He continued to sort through the credit chits, trying to ignore the pleasant weight of her against his back.

"No."

He nodded.

"No!" Ahsoka began to laugh, pushing away from his shoulder. "No, Rex, there's just no way-"

He turned, leaving the credits where they were. "Would you like to count them?"

She quieted, eyes wide. "Count... you've... counted them?"

"Twice."

"How... is that possible?"

Rex pushed to his feet and collected his clothing, heading for the bedroom and 'fresher. "About three thousand is your take from the club."

"And the other nine?"

He shook his head, moving beyond her.

"Rex?"

He paused before flashing her a faint smile. "Call it... a protection fee."

"A what? Rex?"

He didn't answer her, knowing she wouldn't approve of his tactics in dealing with the men who were willing to meet his price for her; a price she didn't know he charged. One he wasn't about to enlighten her on.

"Rex!"

He escaped to the 'fresher, leaving Ahsoka in the main room, her next call cut off as he closed the door between them. Let her count it; she could see for herself.

"Rex!"

Ahsoka stood, with her hands on her hips, as the door to the 'fresher closed behind him without an answer. Frowning, she heard the shower turn on and seriously contemplated going in after him for a moment, of slamming open the door and demanding that he answer her - until the image of a half-naked Rex blossomed in her mind.

The heat that surged through her system was immediate and intense and she wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly glad he was beyond her reach.

Turning her back on the doorway to the bedroom in an attempt to focus on something other than the image in her mind, Ahsoka's gaze fell on the credit chits that were still on the table.

Settling where Rex had been sitting, she reached, hesitated and then dumped the credit chits across the table. Thanks to Rex's organization, counting them was relatively easy and as she passed the five thousand count on the smaller denominations, she stopped.

Five thousand credits. She couldn't believe it, let alone the twelve and change he'd professed. Did Rex realize he'd bagged a small fortune? A frown crossed her lips. There was enough here to make them targets, real targets, should anyone learn of the sum.

"Did I miscount?"

Startled, Ahsoka jerked around and flushed, shaking her head immediately. "I believe you. This is a lot of credits."

He arched his eyebrows.

"I mean... a lot of credits, Rex. Twelve thousand credits are enough to buy you just about anything."

"And?"

"Maybe you shouldn't charge as much for my time on stage."

"And lower the fee for your nightly charms?" His eyes narrowed. "Not a chance."

"But - what are we going to do with all these credits?"

He shrugged.

Ahsoka stared at him. "What's this?" she shrugged, mimicking him.

"I don't know."

"That's a lot of credits not to know what to do with."

"I don't think how to spend the credits if the focus of this mission," Rex returned dryly, "there are more immediate matters."

"I think this is pretty immediate, Rex."

Rex nodded pointedly to the chrono on the wall. "We're going to be late."

Ahsoka followed his gaze and sprang to her feet, spinning in time to slap her hands on the table and prevent the credit chits from falling off.

Rex joined her, scooping them quickly into the bags before collecting his jacket and tucking them into the concealed pockets on the inside. Ahsoka watched as he shrugged into his holster and then the jacket, hiding one blaster under his arm, the other already strapped to his thigh in its preferred position.

She wondered if she'd ever get used to seeing him like this. Part of her missed the sharp lines of his familiar armor; the familiar, comfortable white that was as much a reassurance as it was a confidence booster. By contrast, part of her was glad he wasn't and that she had this feast of muscle and leather to ogle.

Of course, so did everyone else.

"Ahsoka?"

Giving herself a shake, she nodded, finding her shoes and wrap, and followed him out the door.

"You know, sugar," one of the waitresses drawled as she refreshed Rex's drink between dance numbers and after he'd discouraged a bunch of men with Ahsoka's fee, "most Hustlers who don't have work for their girls tend to lower their price or are, at least, open to negotiation."

He slanted the Twi'lek a look but didn't answer, plucking the fresh whiskey from the table and taking a sip.

"I'm just sayin'," she looked at him with a faint leer, "she must be somethin' else for you to not want to share her, what with the way you stare at her all hot and possessive and all."

"Are you here to serve drinks or badger the customers?"

The Twi'lek huffed and flounced away, but Rex's gut clenched with dread. He didn't want anyone to be able to afford Ahsoka and so had set an impossibly, ludicrously high credit cost. It was enough to drive away the underfunded and draw in the curious; he'd already heard rumors circulating, as he'd entered The Catalyst,about a friend of a friend who had a cousin who'd tasted the Togrutan dancer's charms.

He hadn't stuck around to listen; if he had, someone would have ended up through the wall. Ahsoka had been right; her reputation as expensive, even for high rollers, added mystery to her and brought in larger crowds.

No matter which way he looked at it, though, the Twi'lek was right.

He'd overheard the other two Hustlers who had girls on the stage with Ahsoka negotiating for the best price for their girls; Rex alone had maintained a hard line. In a way it had only served to increase her mystique and his reputation. He'd fielded more inquiries about 'Kora' since arriving than he had any other day and each one made his blood burn that much hotter.

He knew what they were asking; the images painted in his mind with their vulgar, blatant suggestions and inquiries always making him feel just that much more on edge. Even worse, the images, once there inside his mind, were difficult to dispel; part of him wanted what they did. It was worse knowing that, especially after last night, he could probably have Ahsoka if the circumstances were different.

She wasn't his to have; she was his commanding officer, something he'd been losing sight of more and more this past week; something he'd do well to remember. Except… she was more than just a Commander. They'd been together fighting on the front lines of this war for almost two years; two years where they'd become close friends, confidants, partners in every platonic way possible.

He trusted and respected her beyond measure; both factors that should have helped him keep a lid on his libido. Neither of which seemed to influence it. He wanted Ahsoka in the same base fashion that these ruffians and scoundrels, leaving him no better than they.

Imprudently tossing back the contents of his drink in a single hit, he slouched in the booth where Quill had cornered him the night before and scanned the patrons once again, keeping an eye out for their target. His eyes slid from individual to individual before landing on a face he hadn't really expected to see despite the Intelligence report.

A human male; black hair, dark eyes, dressed much like Rex was but in nondescript dark grays, blacks and browns. A man of plain features so forgettable Rex couldn't help but notice him. Especially as the Twi'lek - Ahsoka had called her Ishka - happened to be in his lap for a dance.

Music started, familiar music; music Rex knew would bring Ahsoka out onto the stage for her second solo performance of the night.

He forced himself not to look at the temptation on stage, even though he could visualize it easily, and to instead stay focused on the target. The mission, he told himself firmly, watching as the man's eyes were drawn to Ahsoka even with Ishka on his lap. The Twi'lek didn't seem to notice

"I'd say that one would probably meet your price," the waitress caught Rex's attention as she refilled his drink yet again. "He's always looking for a new girl to try."

Rex tossed a couple of credits down on her tray for the information, without looking her way. She shrugged and moved off, Rex letting his eyes wander over the rest of the riveted crowd. Ahsoka was doing her veil dance - seven minutes of sexy, tantalizing reveal which ended with an outfit about as revealing as her normal battle outfit.

He didn't mind the outfit so much as the areas that it hugged; even he, who had never seen her naked, had no trouble picturing her as such after this dance.

Watching the men salivate over Ahsoka had him clenching one hand around the lip of the table, the other spread almost casually on the seat beside him; one tense, the other slack, neither expressed the intensity of his revulsion for their disrespect of her.

Mine, he found himself thinking as he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. A refocus and he saw the Separatist that was their - Ahsoka's - target speaking with someone… who pointed straight at Ahsoka and then at Rex. He didn't have to see what the other man said, he knew.

She belongs to him; that's her Hustler.

It was something he felt it more than he saw or heard. The shift in the room's dynamic as attention turned his way and his gaze went to the stage, his jaw clenching as he saw that Ahsoka was still in the midst of her dance and only about half way through. His warrior's instincts were thrown in over drive as adrenaline pulsed through his system, preparing him for a confrontation.

He could feel the eyes on his head; the speculation. The anger; the envy.

If they only knew how much agony he was in because of his ethics, his control holding on by a hair's breadth, they wouldn't envy him. No, he thought darkly, they'd have taken advantage of her trust long ago.

Which left him in the here and now; in the role of Hustler and perceived lover, watching as she slowly exposed inch after square inch of Sienna colored skin. From the corner of his eye, he saw the target approach, his attention mostly on Ahsoka as he exhaled softly.

The mission; keep focused, this is first contact.

Reaching for his glass, Rex winced as his pants pinched him in a tender spot. This mission, he thought caustically, trying to get comfortable despite the perpetual ache below his belt, is going to be the death of me.

On stage, Ahsoka continued to dance, slowly pulling off veil number five to the catcalls and encouragement of The Catalyst's patrons, her smile firmly in place as she considered the implications of what she'd just seen.

Their target was here.

Finally.

He'd been in the audience when she'd stepped on stage, with Ishka in his lap and the man had wandering hands. The Twi'lek looked to have been encouraging the touching, something Ahsoka hadn't considered when she'd initially conceived the dance she'd only ever attempted on Rex.

Rex didn't touch; he clutched the chair beneath him and let her practice. Was he supposed to touch? Her gaze had scanned the rest of the patrons for the other girls she knew to be working the floor. Some had been engaged in offering dances, about half being touched, half not and as Ahsoka had pulled off veil number three, Ishka had finished her dance and turned in the Seppie's lap, staying there for a few moments to nibble on his neck before gaining her feet and moving on.

The Separatist had, as Ahsoka'd pulled off veil number four, visibly been polling those around him and one of the more helpful had pointed her way, drawing her attention, only to then point in Rex's.

He wants to hire me, she'd realized with a start and a completely unexpected surge of elation. Not that she found that human attractive - he was no match for Rex's rugged good looks and quirky personality - but the knowledge that she wouldn't have to be the one to make the move, that her prey would come to her, was exhilarating.

As she danced, tossing aside veil number five into the audience - which caused a brief kerfuffle - and reaching for veil number six, her target slid into the booth across from Rex. Her routine, practiced daily and sometimes two or three times, was a no brainer as she kept one eye on Rex and the man with him even as she teased the men surrounding the stage where she danced.

Even distracted, she made sure to keep her distance; Rex was preoccupied and she had no desire to be hauled off stage again.

Removing the last veil, Ahsoka held it between her hands, the sheer fabric doing nothing to conceal her scantily clad body beneath as it whipped and snaked about her, sliding over her skin with a softer touch than Rex's calloused hands. She shivered at the thought, one end of the veil escaping her fingers and the improvised, sending it sailing gently to the side as the music changed tempo and she struck her final pose.

The house went crazy, men on their feet, credit chits raining down around her bare feet. As her chest heaved, one arm stretched above her head, her gaze darted to Rex even as she scanned the crowd and offered them a wink and a smile.

He was shaking the hand of their target, a false smile on his normally stoic features, and the nondescript man was moving away. As she stood in her final pose, waiting for the crowd to quiet, Rex's gaze met back to hers. With the slightest of eye movements towards the nondescript human, she asked a non-verbal question and Rex's miniscule shake of the head told her everything she needed to know.

Not yet; not now.

Twirling lightly in place, she scampered off stage with a saucy smile that drew more cheers as she disappeared into the back.

"Well, well, if it isn't the sexless wonder herself."

Spinning, her smile disappearing, Ahsoka found herself alone and face to face with Zidel and a surge of righteous indignation blindsided her. "If it isn't the biggest slut in the house," the words popped out before she could think about or stop them, "rough night influencing those you can't have, Zidel?"

"I could have any man here," Zidel snapped, "unlike you."

"Hear that," Ahsoka cocked her head with a smirk, advancing on the other girl, the cheers having yet to fade behind her. "That is the sound of every male out there wishing he could afford me."

Zidel didn't back down. "That's the sound of every man putting credits into Quill's pockets because your Rex acts more like a possessive, jealous lover than a Hustler!"

"Irked you couldn't make him want you, Zi?"

"He wanted me," the Zeltron's answering smile drew Ahsoka up short, the words stinging far more than they should have. "He wanted to pin me down on the table and make me scream."

With an inarticulate cry, Ahsoka grabbed the other dancer by the shoulders and slammed her into the nearest wall, taking them away from the stage and into a nearby alcove.

"Struck a nerve did I?" Violet eyes gleamed with satisfaction even as Ahsoka pinned her to the wall, nails digging into her flesh, and Zidel's smile widened. "I bet he even wanted to spank me; to show me I was a naughty girl while he-"

"You used your pheromones on him," Ahsoka snapped, cutting her off, "you violated him!"

"A girl uses what she has," raking Ahsoka from head to toe, Zidel's look was contemptuous, "in your case, I'm not sure what men see in you; you're all angles and no curves."

"Whereas you're all curves and no brains," leaning in close, Ahsoka barred her teeth at the other dancer, "otherwise your precious Quill wouldn't be trying to trade your favors for mine."

There was a moment of silence as the two women stared at one another and Ahsoka threw Zidel's words back at her, her tone taunting. "Struck a nerve, did I?"

"Quill was mine," Zidel's answer was shakily. "Until you came along, Quill was mine!"

"He still is yours; I don't want him."

"When has that ever mattered?" spitefully, Zidel shoved Ahsoka away. "You might not want to share his bed, but you will!"

"Only if Rex agrees."

"If you're going to keep dancing here, he'll have no choice," Ahsoka was surprised to see fear, but not loathing, in the other girl's eyes as she continued, her tone bitter. "Quill will make it a condition of you staying on. He's done it before."

"Rex won't let it happen; he'll move us away first."

"What Hustler doesn't want his girl making nice with the owner of the club he's working?" derision dripped from Zidel's lips.

"One that doesn't see credits as the end all be all!"

Ahsoka's response seemed to make Zidel deflate and she took a step back as Zidel seemed to examine her closely for the first time, as if never having seen her before. "How?"

Waiting to see what quantifier would be put on the end, Ahsoka heard the music begin again as another set began, and furrowed her brow when Zidel didn't seem inclined to continue. "How… what?"

"How do you do it?"

"It?" she felt a little ridiculous repeating the Zeltron's words, but Ahsoka couldn't, for the life of her, follow the other woman's train of thought.

"It - keeping him interested; how'd you make him so obsessed with you that he won't even look at a much better endowed and experienced dancer?" Zidel's question was so preposterous, Ahsoka was stunned to silence as she continued and couldn't take offense with the obvious disparagement of her charms.

"What's your secret; how do you keep him interested - how did you make him want to possess you all the time?!"

"He doesn't-"

"Don't lie to me!" There was a desperation in Zidel's tone that hadn't been there before, laced with anger and denial. "We've all seen the way he looks at your when you dance; that hunger, that passion; that single minded obsession - you and only you, Kora! So don't lie to me!"

Rex watched her possessively? Obsessively? She tried not to watch him when she was on stage; it unsettled her, the intensity in his gaze, reaching deep within her and making her want to do things that would be... imprudent in their current situation. Not that she hadn't felt his regard; she would have had to be dead not to notice when he was looking at her.

Ahsoka found she had no answer for Zidel - nothing but the truth and that she couldn't afford to give without risking both of their lives. So she lied... sort of. "Rex and I have been together for years, Zidel."

"Your measly handful could never compare to the dozen I've worked for Quill," snapped the Zeltron spitefully, "what have you done; what spell have you cast? Tell me how you keep him so obviously in love with you!"

"Love?" Ahsoka shook her head; Zidel hadn't a clue about love. Not that Ahsoka really did either, but she did know a few fundamentals. "Possession and obsession are not love!"

"You leave with him, alone, every night, Kora and I've seen the way he handles you; like he can't wait to get you alone. You come back with him every night and he still wants more! I must know your secret; I have to know what you're doing." Raising one hand, as if to strike, Zidel closed the gap between them. "Tell me what's so special about you that your Hustler still loves you and mine doesn't!"

She's talking about Quill, Ahsoka realized. Quill's offer to trade Zidel's favors for Ahsoka's had struck a nerve on the spiteful Zeltron. It wouldn't have if Zidel knew she was taking Rex back to their suite, bidding him a chaste goodnight and sleeping apart. She'd probably laugh - if she believed her at all. The last part, about Rex loving her, was dismissed out of hand; her Captain might want her, but Ahsoka was under no illusion that he loved her. "I don't manipulate him for starters."

"Manipulation is what we do; we use our bodies and our skills to ensnare men; to drive them crazy so they'll obsess about us. So they'll want us; so they'll give us what we want in return for what they want. In making a man so possessive, so obsessive as your Rex obviously is, you've obviously ensnared his heart."

"Love isn't about possession," Ahsoka protested, taking a step away from the jaded dancer, "it's about sharing, about being with someone; about trust. It's knowing they have your back, even when things look their bleakest; it's about being accepted for who you are, not what you look like what you can do for them or to them!"

"Oh sweetling," Zidel shook her head. "You're still so young in some ways. Men only want us for sex; they will always want us for sex and nothing more."

"Speak for yourself."

"You'd better give up whatever trick it is you've been using to wow your overprotective lover and dazzle Quill and I won't tear your head tails from your skull."

"Try it and you won't walk out of here with fingers."

"Kora!"

Staring hard at Zidel, Ahsoka didn't break their eye contact as she answered the stage manager over her shoulder. "Here."

"You're on in... why aren't you changed?"

Giving Zidel one last, contemplative look, Ahsoka turned her back on the other dancer, pitying her for her views on love even as her own definition nagged her. She had no time to dwell on it as she rushed to change for her last act of the night.