Author's Note: Apparently when I separated these chapters, I missed putting the first part of this one with the last chapter where it belongs, so here's the correction ;) Enjoy!

Mission Day Five - Part 2

"I see one of my more selective friends has been to see you."

Rex somehow managed not to tense as Rhyn settled into the booth across from him for the second night in a row. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Quill; I've spoken with many a man tonight who claims a discounted price for your close and personal friends."

"I trust you've shown your already legendary savvy and not believed a one of them."

Rex nodded once to Rhyn, twisting his glass on the table and waiting, watching him expectantly. He wasn't disappointed.

"Have you given any thought to my proposal?"

"Which one?"

"Which... why, a trade for an evening, my friend! My lovely Zeltron companion, Zi, for your Togrutan savage."

Rex's hand clenched on his thigh, out of sight from Rhyn's line of vision; he'd have given every credit on his person in that moment to be able to put his fist through Rhyn's smiling face. "One thing at a time, Quill. The floor first; then we'll talk."

Rhyn straightened in his seat, a gleam Rex couldn't quite identify in his eyes. "When?"

"Soon." Rex nodded towards where Ahsoka's target was sitting across the room. "The man's partial to lap dances; made me an offer on Kora I couldn't refuse."

"Did he now?" Rhyn's expression turned almost devious, putting Rex on guard. "Did you not say that the night your Kora works the floor for the first time, she would be mine?"

He had. Despite the fact that Rex knew it would never come to pass, bile rose in the back of his throat with the thought and his blood boiling with the heated lust in the other man's eyes. Mine, his every instinct was screaming. Ahsoka is mine! You can't have her! Don't deserve her!

The image of planting the fist he wished in Rhyn's face was quick on the heels of his inner denial and sending the widely smirking pervert to the ground. It was followed by the pleasant fantasy of grabbing Rhyn by the throat, his fingers digging into the flesh around his Adams apple as he dragged the older man across the table.

He could picture the smirk disappearing off that distinguished visage as he flipped Rhyn on his back and clenched his fist around the soft, vulnerable goiter and squeezed. He could feel it pop within the palm of his hand as he applied just enough pressure, leaving Rhyn gasping and dying on the table top.

The image morphed to Rhyn standing before him, laughing, leering at Ahsoka, reaching for her. Rex, free to act, reaching out to grab the cantina owner's hand, bending it backwards with a flick of his wrist and breaking the man's thumb and driving him to his knees.

Starting with that thumb, Rex could picture himself laying down the law, explaining why Rhyn wasn't good enough to touch the tips of Ahsoka's toes. Finger by broken finger, he enjoyed Rhyn's screams for mercy. Mercy which wouldn't be given until he recanted every impure thought, every dirty word uttered about Ahsoka and her person.

The manager, Rex knew without a doubt, would have been dead or unconscious long before finishing his confession.

Rex said none of what he was feeling, what he was thinking. Instead, he focused on the pleasant image of the other man begging for mercy and managed to find a half-way believable smile; one that barred his teeth as he kept the irritation from his voice. "I did."

"Excellent! Tomorrow night then." Slapping one hand down on the table, Rhyn made a motion with the other and a waitress came over with drinks. Rhyn placed one before Rex and took the other, lifting it in a toast. "To tomorrow; I look forward to enjoying the delectable secrets of your young Togrutan playmate. To a profitable business arrangement for us both!"

Rex had no choice but to accept the drink and lift it to clink the rim to Rhyn's. "To business," he agreed, his smile gone. Rhyn didn't notice as he tipped back his drink, leading Rex to do the same, the liquor burning a path down his throat to his stomach. It threatened to rebel and Rex clamped his jaw shut.

Fortunately, Rhyn didn't seem to notice as he pushed away from the table with a smile. "A pleasure doing business with you, Rex. Make sure she gets lots of rest tonight," the last was thrown over Rhyn's shoulder, "between working the floor and being in my bed, she won't be getting any tomorrow!"

The only downside to Rhyn leaving, was that it left Rex alone with his thoughts, Ahsoka with one last dance, and the feeling that things, for all they seemed to be falling into place, were about to get even more complicated.

"Did you hear them tonight, Rex?" Ahsoka hung her wrap on the back of the nearby chair and twirled in place with a grin she couldn't keep off her lips, energized by the upbeat feel that had wrapped her within its collective grasp as she'd left the stage for the last time that night. "I had the whole house on its feet!"

"Even the target."

She spun at his grim tone, her smile dying, feeling as if he'd taken the air from her lungs. "Even the target," looking at him, she noted immediately he wasn't sharing her elation, "Is that a problem, Rex? I was trying to get his attention."

"You could enjoy it a little less."

"Excuse me?" She gaped at him. "I'm not the one who had a professional dancer in his lap with her hand down the front of his pants!"

"That wasn't my fault."

"I know," Ahsoka exhaled with a wince, holding up both hands to forestall whatever he might answer, "I'm sorry, Rex. I just… seeing you with Zidel like that yesterday and then her wild accusations tonight, I-"

"What accusations?"

"She… insinuated that because you keep watching me with this intense - she called it an obsessive possessiveness - you won't share me."

Rex went very still for a fraction of a moment before turning away to hang his coat; the move made her frown.

"Rex?"

"Did she say anything else?"

"Like what?"

He paused and then turned back her way, the momentary stillness all the more noticeable after his uncharacteristic dodge.

"Like what, Rex?"

"Anything about our charade," he finally offered, his tone and expression neutral and completely at odds with the tension she could see in his frame. "About Hustlers or Coquettes?"

"Just that your obsession with me had to be because of something I did exclusively for you. She seemed to think that the obsession she perceived, your desire to possess me, meant you were in love with me. She… wanted to know my trick for keeping you interested for so long." Rex's eyebrows rose, his only response as she continued. "I think she wanted to know as a way to win back Quill."

"A waitress commented on it to me." Rex's abrupt statement caught her off guard.

"What kind of comment?"

"About the fact I won't haggle for the cost of your charms," his eyes blazed with something she couldn't quiet identify, "and how a Hustler would normally lower their asking price if no one would meet it."

Ahsoka's eyes widened. "She… that's not good, Rex." Frowning, she considered him, "maybe… you should consider it?"

"No." He stepped close to her, eyes still blazing with what she could only call blood lust. "As far as I'm concerned, my asking price is too low."

"Obviously not, or I'd be swimming in customers."

Her attempt at humor fell flat as Rex seemed to struggle with himself before lifting his hand to touch his finger tips to her cheek. "Any man, any male, of any species who wants a chance with you, has to go through me first; I won't stand aside, Ahsoka."

There was something intense and visceral behind his words that reflected in his eyes and she reached up to cover his hand with hers, pressing it to her cheek. "I don't want you to."

She felt the impact of her words as they seemed to ripple through his arm and down into his body, making his tremble, a soft, strangled sound coming from his throat. His hand tensed under hers, though he applied no pressure to her face, stepping towards her, pressing against her with such delicious friction she shivered. His hand slipped to the side, as if making to withdraw, and Ahsoka let out a hiss as her own pressed it unintentionally against the sensitive curve of her lekku.

They both stilled and Rex, to her surprise, turned his attention to the responsive appendage. Her hand on the back of his, his calloused fingertips traversed the firm, veined surface from her cheek upwards, towards the curve of her montrals. It was a caress that caught her breath in her throat and sent a spiral of new heat and want arcing through her veins. Her heart raced.

He watched her intently, she could feel it even as her eyelids fluttered closed, tilting her chin just enough to give him an easier access to the sensitive flesh.

Rex didn't disappoint her as her hand slipped to his wrist and forearm, his fingers spreading wide on the curve of her skull and then traveling downwards. The caress brought her to her toes, pressing upwards and towards it in an attempt to encourage more friction, more pressure; Rex seemed to understand her unspoken plea.

Growling back in her throat, Ahsoka let out a gasp as he grasped the sensitive and sensitized lekku in his hand, wrapping his fingers about it for the first time as his hand dipped to chin height. The roughness of his hand should have been unpleasant, but Ahsoka found it anything but. The contrast to her smooth skin was turning her to mush, making her knees weak and she clutched him for balance. Her nails dug into his bare wrist as her other hand closed about his opposite bicep, her body curving into his even as she struggled to remain upright.

"Rex-"

His hand stilled on her lekku, making her whimper and then cry out when his fingers flexed, her knees buckling. Rex's free arm wrapped around her waist, catching her, pulling her that fraction closer, her heart leaping against his. Her eyes drifted open, her thoughts a jumble as her gaze careened back to his.

Slowly, his hand drew downwards, his forearm a comforting band of durasteel across her back, tight and hard, just shy of pleasurably painful.

There was no thought of moving away, not a single moment given to escape. Ahsoka was where she wanted to be; in Rex's arms, his eyes blazing with an intensity that reached straight to the tips of the toes holding her weight, fully confident he wouldn't hurt her. The predator within her rebelled even as it capitulated. Caught by her chosen mate, submitting to his strength, her breath caught and she waited for what came next.

It's about trust.

Her own words echoed in her head, zipping suddenly through the speech she'd used to contradict Zidel on possession and obsession. It was only then that Ahsoka understood what she felt for Rex.

Love.

I love Rex.

The impact of the realization was like being able to see after being in a dark room or suddenly being able to sense the spatial difference around her after being under the cowl of her Jedi cloak. It was disorienting and liberating kind of experience.

I'm in love with Rex.

Rex's fingers slowly closed towards a fist as they slid with agonizing slowness down her lekku, the rasp of his skin against hers more than a touch; more than a caress. It was as if he'd reached within her, stroking the fibers of her heart, her very soul, and she was drowning in the amber honey of his eyes.

"Ahsoka..."

His head dipped as she whimpered, tilting her face to his, her nails digging into his flesh -

- and he stopped, straightening as his hand fell away from her lekku.

Rex was suddenly tense, his expression hard and she struggled to pull herself from the mire of emotional revelation that had caught her. He was distant suddenly, emotionally so, and it helped clear her head with alarming speed.

"Rex?"

"We... have to talk strategy."

She blinked, completely taken aback by his slightly strangled switch back to business. "We…" she reeled with the change, her own voice hoarse. "Now?"

"The target has been sighted. We can't lose sight of our goal." His statement was at odds with their current position.

She could still feel every inch of him pressed against her from chest to thigh; feel the pulse of his life's blood, her own continuing to shimmer through her veins like molten lava. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered herself from the tips of her toes to being flat footed, the agonizing slide of her bare skin exposed by the dancing costume against the leather of his only serving to remind her just how little stood between them.

A shudder wracked her and Rex's arm at her back tightened, seemingly unintentionally - but she was grateful he didn't let her go. If he had, she suspected she would have melted down the full length of his body to pool at his feet. Swallowing hard, she adjusted her hands so they gripped both of his biceps, feeling the flexed muscles bunch tightly.

"We-"

"Rex; please," cutting him off, she tilted her head forward to rest against his collarbone, closing her eyes as she struggled to collect herself. "I need a minute."

"I-"

"Please!"

To be taken from such an intense physical encounter back to the business at hand so abruptly, she wasn't above begging. She also wasn't sure how he did it. Still pressed against him, she knew he wasn't unaffected; his heartbeat was faster than normal, his body a solid wall of muscle and sinew that seemed to pulsate with every breath.

Rex, thankfully, did as she asked, giving her a few moments to recover. It was only when she finally lifted her head, her eyes seeking his, that he spoke again - and it wasn't what she wanted to discuss.

"We need to complete this mission tomorrow, Ahsoka."

"I know that."

"No," he returned sharply. "You don't. We have to complete this."

"Rex, I do know; I'm only going to get one shot at this, remember?" Giving his shoulders a push, she took a step back. It left her feeling bereft when he let her go, only to catch her when she stumbled, her legs still not quite steady. "I know what tomorrow's about; I know the parameters of this mission as well as-

"Quill thinks that you're going to share his bed at the end of the night."

Silence fell between them as he broke in and Ahsoka stared at him incredulously.

"He what?" Taking another step back, her legs bumped the edge of one of the chairs and she sank gratefully into it, searching Rex's partially shadowed features in the dim lighting of the room. "Why?"

Rex rubbed one hand over his face. "I had to give a reason why I wouldn't let you work the floor until the Seppie arrived."

"What does that have to do with me… with…" shaking her head, she couldn't find the words. Thinking about it, dreaming about it, sharing with Rex like that was one thing, but she couldn't fathom ever doing the same with the suave owner of The Catalyst. It gave her chills and left her cold. "What did you tell him?"

"What he needed to hear. The night after you were pulled off stage, I spoke with Quill. He wanted to…" Rex's expression hardened. "He wanted to sample the merchandise."

"Me."

He nodded.

"And you told him what exactly?"

"That I didn't trust his security to keep you safe and he would be able to have you the night you worked the floor for the first time."

"Which is tomorrow."

Rex nodded again.

"He won't wait for the end of the night."

"I know."

Ahsoka swallowed hard. "Well, at least it deflects the suspicion, right? Quill thinks he's going to get a chance to… to have me and everyone will see me work the floor to make you a few credits while I am completing our mission and lifting the data crystal off the Seppie." She smiled, but it was a sickly one as she wrapped her arms about her waist, suddenly cold. "A win-win situation all around, right?"

"He'll never touch you."

"He may have to, Rex; I'll be in his lap."

"Quill," Rex growled the name, his hands clenching. "Quill will never touch you."

Relief coursed through her, though she knew they'd be long gone before The Catalyst's owner ever discovered their deception. Trepidation followed swiftly on its heels; for all Quill would never touch her, the truth couldn't be said for her target. She'd seen Ishka's dance; she knew he was likely to take liberties. The whole charade would be blown if he touched her somewhere she'd never been touched before and she reacted badly. "Did you see Ishka's dance for the Seppie, Rex?"

"His eyes barely left you."

"I know, but did you see his hands?" Swallowing hard, she forged ahead before he could answer. "If he touches me the way he touched Ishka-"

"I'll break every finger he has in three places."

"And blow our cover," Ahsoka shook her head, wishing he was beside her, holding her again, but knowing it was probably best he wasn't. He turned, walking two steps away before turning back her way, one hand reaching out to grip the back of the chair at the table across the room. "Whatever he does, you can't react, Rex."

"It's a dance," Rex snarled, glaring at her as if it were her fault. They were several dozen feet apart, but Ahsoka felt his fury as if he were before her with bare inches to spare. "He shouldn't have to touch!"

Leaping to her feet, she faced off with him. "Do you think I want him to? Do you think I want the first time someone… someone touches me like that to be a stranger? A Separatist spy? I… What else can I do, Rex? Tell me; tell me how else I can accomplish this mission and I'll do it!"

They stared at one another across the room for a few moments which quickly turned into minutes, Ahsoka desperately wishing there was some other option. Her revelation of what she felt for Rex left her with a sick feeling in her stomach when she thought of having to endure the touch of the Separatist. Not just endure, but encourage, it.

Ahsoka didn't want to dance for anyone but Rex; to be touched by anyone but him and their mission parameters called for exactly that… and Rex didn't have a better solution than what they'd already been given. Forcing the words past her lips, Ahsoka tilted her head at a stubborn angle, the knowledge that she was going to be forced to go through with the charade wounding her deeply. She hoped he couldn't read it in her eyes.

"There's nothing else we can do," her voice wavered and cracked. If she had Master Obi-Wan's talents at mind control, she might have tried something different, but the scene had already been set and she would be forced to see it through to the bitter end. "We were given an assignment. A mission. It's… it's our duty to see it through to the end." At Rex's abrupt nod, she squared her shoulders. "Do you have a plan?"

To her disappointment, he did.

Rex stayed where he was, away from Ahsoka, lest he do something foolish - like reach for her again - as he explained the simplest way for her to approach her target.

The alcohol he'd consumed earlier buzzed through his veins, lending the whole experience a surreal feel that didn't seem real. He couldn't credit the memory of having held her in his arms bare minutes ago, flush against him. Didn't believe his senses had correctly registered her body arching into his as he'd explored the curves and valleys of her montrals and lekku as he'd always dreamed of doing.

She sat as he spoke, watching him with a luminescent gaze that seemed to be slightly glazed.

Later, he'd recall what he said to her. It was his plan after all, but in the moment, he could do little more than focus on the fact that the only thing stopping him from going to her was his grip on the back of a chair, the wood biting into his hand to help keep him focused. Without it, he'd have been beside her in a heartbeat, declaring the mission over and the hell with the information they needed to get all in the interest of wiping the stricken, dreadful look from her eyes.

The mission, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, this is why you're here; this mission. Get the crystal and get gone; get back to the Resolute and resume living the life that makes sense.

Except it was a life where Ahsoka wouldn't be sleeping in the next room or practicing her dance moves on him. There would be no more sharing a room, away from prying eyes with absolute and complete privacy. His life wouldn't include illicit touches or waking up with her draped across his body; being able to hold her close without his armor in the way or being able to dip his head and kiss her when the whim struck.

His life was one of rigid structure and regulation where anything he'd learned over the course of the last week would be rendered obsolete. His time with Ahsoka would be carefully controlled and regimented. Limited to briefing and debriefings and the occasional walk or discussion.

It sounded familiar; like home... and like hell.

How he could ever go back to it after what they'd been through? He wasn't sure; all he knew was that, somehow, they would have to.

His liquor addled brain, however, was no longer just whispering about the mission and its conclusion. It was now tantalizing him with the very real possibility that this was the last night that he and Ahsoka would have alone together. It was whispering suggestions he'd been fighting a losing battle against for the last six days; he just hadn't been able to bring himself to admit it.

You want her, the voice whispered as Ahsoka bowed her head to his plan, her fingers curling about the lip of the chair.

He couldn't remember what he'd just said to make her shoulders slump like that and her single, sharp nod indicated she wasn't thrilled with his statement but agreed with it. Her head came up, her brilliant cyan irises shining with a series of conflicting emotions.

Yet… even still he could see the banked remnants of the heat that had leapt between them.

She wants you.

The reminder of that knowledge was immediate, his hand tightening around the chair like the life line it was. If she touched him in that moment, he'd have been lost; helpless to do more than follow the temptation through to its logical conclusion. A conclusion that would have cost them both their honor - but she didn't approach him.

Getting to her feet, Ahsoka headed straight for the bedroom, her shoulders hunched. Helpless to comfort her, for he didn't trust himself, he was powerless to offer any words of assurance as she reached the doorway. He must have spoken for she stopped, turned to look at him and offered him the smallest of smiles and a nod.

Seconds later he was alone with the door closed between them and a hand that ached from too much pressure around an unforgiving surface. His hand tingled, not feeling like his own, and the impression of soft, supple flesh under his fingertips resurfaced.

Lost in the mire of his alcoholic haze, Rex stood staring at the door behind which Ahsoka lay for who knew how long. Reliving the moments where he'd held her lekku in his hand and torturing himself with the sensations. Eventually, he marshaled the cognitive ability to pull himself together and occupy the chair she'd vacated. Settling into it, he slid down, stretching his legs out in front of him, and tilted his head against the back.

Their mission was coming to fruition and he, in all his whiskey soaked wisdom, found himself looking for a way to extend it. A way that would allow the shift in his relationship with Ahsoka, for there had been one, to continue and evolve and blossom into something that resembled his fantasies.

Despite their circumstances, despite the hardships and the perpetual ache that was his personal burden to bear, Rex found himself staring at the ceiling and lamenting the fact everything would be ending so soon.