AN:This part will be broken up into three pieces; it was starting to get very long. But I have it almost completely written and ready to go, so the posts will be more like a week apart, than a month. Many thanks to laloga, who has helped and supported me so, so much. This story has grown a mind of it's own and I really appreciate everyone who's still reading. Thank you!

There's a reference at the end of this chapter to another story I'm writing, Dozen, that goes with this story and is actually an idea that came from Chapter 3 of Fallen, so I'd recommend reading that if you'd like the whole picture, however Dozen does earn it's M rating just a bit more than this one does.

Remember to review!

-There was a time when I was so broken hearted, Love wasn't much of a friend of mine

9.

Night 1

The old bar on Vorzyd V was small, but it was comfortable. Sitting on the main thoroughfare between the hotels and Casino Royale, it stayed busy enough, even despite the recent decline in business because of the war.

The owner, a middle aged Vorzydiak, was nothing if not pragmatic, a savvy businessman. He was good-humored and had keen instincts. Aala had gotten on with him from the start. The alien insisted on simply being called Vo. She wasn't sure whether he was hiding something or his name was hard to pronounce, but it didn't matter to her either way.

Leaning on the aging bar, Aala went over the details of the assignment in her head as she waited for him to fill another tray of drinks - establish a cover on Vorzyd V, meet with the contact, Jace Ryen, whenever he saw fit to grace her with his presence, obtain the intel, double check it, and get out.

Picturing the image she'd seen of his face, she ran through the list she received with it. Average height, average build. Weakness for easy money and pretty girls, trimmed brown hair. Hot tempered and scruffy.

He'd apparently provided good intelligence in the past, but he'd been identified as jumpy and unpredictable – thus this new approach...

Meet him in his territory, charm him into relaxing and, most important, keep it short and sweet. He was supposed to show up in the next few days, but Aala was prepared to spend a week or longer. She had a room close by and a good cover story as a down on her luck wanderer, looking for a job and a place to get away from her past.

Why was it always so easy for people to believe she was down on her luck? She gave a mental shrug. As long as it worked.

"Tables 5 and 6," the yellowish-green skinned bartender said, catching her attention as he added two ales to the whiskey and mixed drinks – a tall blue one, and a fizzy orange one – on her tray.

"Thanks Vo," she said glancing up at him, but he was looking over her shoulder, his antennae swaying slightly back and forth.

"Watch out for the Hrakian."

Aala turned to see the bulky near-human at table 5; his hair and skin a distinct shade of gold.

"He's all hands," he said, a tone of dry humor in his voice. "But don't offend him," he added, "he's a regular."

Aala smiled – ah, the complications of being a waitress at a bar – and Vo gave a short nod, seeing she understood. She was grateful for the fair warning, but in the end she knew it was the bottom line that mattered to the businessman.

The first half of the night passed in relative peace. A stray hand here, a leer or two maybe there, and only one spilled drink. She sank comfortably into her assumed persona, if not the tight dress, serving drinks, flirting just enough to keep them interested in hanging around, and staying, for the most part, just out of reach.

She was consoling an old smuggler, who'd presumably gambled away the last of his credits at the casino, when she turned around and saw him. Her quick eyes took in every feature of his face in an instant – what looked to be a week's worth of stubble on his chin and jaw, the tousled hair like he'd just rolled out of bed, the handsome easy lines of his face.

Obi-Wan sat casually at a booth in the back. The other waitress, Jynne, was already waiting on him, her hand on her waist and her body tilted just so, inviting him to admire her generous curves.

Then his eyes met hers from across the room and she realized she had been openly staring. Something dangerous flashed across his expression. Aala spun around to grab her tray before she gave herself away.

She cursed under her breath, then cursed in her head, any and every curse word she could think of, then she made some up.

This was not part of the plan, this was not part of her plan. Did he think she wasn't capable of doing her job?

Trying to push her growing ire to the back of her mind, she decided to just ignore him. What did she care if he sat in the back of this bar and watched her? If he wanted to drink and flirt with his waitress then fine.

But he kept invading her thoughts. She knew they hadn't had a chance to talk, but he seemed fine when she left him, and they were in the middle of a war. Talking would just have to wait.

Blasted, kriffing, insufferable – she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right. Ignoring him.

She ignored him as she felt his eyes on her from across the room. She ignored him as he tried to get her attention, pretending to want to order another drink. She even tried to ignore him when he cornered her in a back storage room where she was looking for alcohol to restock.

Seething, she tried to brush past him to leave, but his frame blocked most of the doorway. When had he gotten so...muscly?! He grabbed her upper arm, to stop her, to get her to look at him. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he tightened his grip and he forced her back into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him, finally meeting his commanding stare.

"Trying to help you," he answered, his voice low and controlled.

Aala saw that flash in his eyes again, though, as she tried to yank her arm away from him, but his grip was unyielding. He took a measured step forward forcing her back into a shelf of supplies.

"I don't need help, you arrogant –"

"There's been an – incident." His steel gaze was unflinching, his face the picture of calm control as she stared him down, her temper long gone.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your contact. It just hit the holonet, he's wanted on Corellia for assault and attempted murder."

"Well, is he guilty?" she challenged him.

"It was... it sounds like it was a tavern fight. He took off before the authorities arrived."

"Any number of things could have happened. That doesn't make him a cold-blooded killer."

"He's dangerous."

"He's Corellian. That's what makes him a good informant. Trouble finds him no matter where he is. We're lucky he's on our side."

Obi-Wan finally let go of her arm, his hand going to his chin. "People change, Aala. He's a wanted man."

"I'm not going to provoke him. Besides, we're paying him a lot of money, it's a business deal, nothing more. No one's being coerced into doing anything."

"That's another thing that bothers me... his family has a lot of money. He's very rich. Why does he bother?"

"From what I read, he has a rather healthy gambling habit to fund. Or maybe he just wants to do the right thing."

"I rather doubt that."

Aala sighed, done with this conversation, and turned around, pretending to search for something in the boxes behind her. "Have my orders changed?" she asked, glancing back at him, cold.

At this his eyes shifted down then back to her. "No. Not yet. Corellia isn't part of the Republic. Their business is their own. I'm only informing you of what happened so you can take the necessary precaution."

Her anger flared again and she whirled around. Little plastic drink straws flew out of the box in her hand and skittered across the floor. "This could have been done in a message, over a comm, Obi-Wan. You're going to blow my cover."

"Ben."

"What?"

"Call me Ben."

"Whatever." She looked him over – the physical changes, the dark, simple clothes, and a different name... would that be enough to mask his real identity? They were more than two and a half years into the war and he was a war hero. She couldn't go more than five minutes on Coruscant without seeing his name or image somewhere.

"I won't blow your cover. I know what I'm doing."

"So do I," she warned. "Don't –" She went to leave but he didn't move.

He was so close to her now, practically pinning her to the wall of shelves with his body. She could feel the warmth that emanated from his skin and smell the familiar masculinity of his scent. Aala ignore the stirring in her heart and pushed at his chest. "Just don't. Let me do my job."

Finally, Obi-Wan stood aside and she stormed from the room. "If you want to help, you can pick up the straws."

Aala managed to avoid 'Ben' for the rest of the night, though she snuck a curious glance once or twice. He must've shaved right after she left and he'd trimmed his hair a bit, thinning the grey and leaving it mussed. It made him look much younger.

But then he would catch her looking at him and she'd get irritated and ignore him again. Her contact didn't show. She wasn't sure now if he even would.

At the end of the night Aala decided she would slip out the back, resenting the idea that Obi-Wan thought he had to be here to watch over her.

The corridor to the hotel was lit by rows of bright fluorescent bulbs and Aala headed for her temporary room, not paying any attention to the throng of beings around her.

It was only a few moments before she felt him following her. Stepping into the crowded lift, she hoped he wouldn't catch it, not that it would delay him more than a minute or two, but no luck. She clenched her teeth together as he stepped in right before the doors slid shut, annoyed.

Sighing to herself, she conceded that she could not ride the lift all night. When they reached her floor, she pushed past him and he followed her.

Arriving at her door, she spun around, furious, her hand lifting in the air though she was not sure if she wanted to hit him, or shove him in the chest, or nothing at all, but it didn't matter because he grabbed her wrist before she had even realized what she was doing. She was so angry with him, she couldn't think straight.

"Why are you following me?" Despite her anger, she was unexpectedly struck by the difference in his appearance again as she turned to face him. A jolt of attraction raced through her blood. Her lust mixed with everything else she was feeling, though, and only served to intensify all her emotions in the end.

He pressed her wrist to the nondescript wall next to her head. "You're not taking this seriously," he said, his voice cool. "You're acting like it's nothing just to spite me."

She huffed. He was so close her, her breath fluttered his hair. "Are you insane? Of course I'm taking this seriously. You're blowing it out of proportion so you have an excuse to strut in here like a hero and come to my rescue."

"I'm here to give you important information pertaining to your assignment," he recited. The way he kept his emotions under control only served to make her angrier.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, her voice rising. "How many other intelligence agents do you personally go out of your way to hand deliver information to. There's no danger. If it is true, he probably won't show at all, and you know that."

"He's completely unpredictable. How much experience do you have with this sort of thing?"

"How dare you? You have no idea what I do, what I'm capable of." The hallway was quiet and her voice sounded loud in the empty space. She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't shake her frustration.

Though his mask of calm stayed in place, he had that look in his eyes again. As she felt her cheeks flame with the heat of her anger she realized his look must be a direct reaction to the defiant, wild look she was shooting at him.

And she could tell he wanted nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder, cart her out of here and be done with it, but she didn't care.

"I'm trying to help you, Aala."

She struggled against his grip, starting to feel her fingertips tingling, and he let her hand drop.

"Leave me alone." Her heart raced in her chest, the words unconvincing even to her. Half of her wished he would disappear so she could find something besides him to punch, but the other half wanted him to close the last step between them and just take her already.

She couldn't sort out her feelings in her head and she couldn't figure out what she truly wanted. Either that or she just wouldn't let herself admit how much she needed him. It was so much easier to fight with Obi-Wan lately rather than face her own feelings, but then he would look at her like that …

She took a breath intending to yell at him again when, suddenly, he was pressing her to the wall and she was clutching the edges of his jacket and they were kissing and she had no idea if she had kissed him first or he had kissed her.

The tip of his tongue tickled insistently at her lower lip. She opened for him and he explored her mouth with fervor. Obi-Wan kissed her like he needed to relearn everything about her, like he needed her to survive. She clung to him, the kiss making her dizzy. His hands clenched at her hips and she ran her fingers through his hair and over the stubble on his jaw, trying to pull herself closer. The tension melted away and it felt better than anything.

It seemed like hours before Aala finally pulled back to catch her breath. When she did, she wrapped her arms tight around him, hugging him close to her as if he might disappear into smoke.

But he didn't. He lowered his lips to her ear, breathing hard and kissed the lobe once, softly. "Aala, I just miss you."

"Yeah?"

Pulling away, a small smile curved his lips, reaching his eyes, making them crinkle in happiness. "As long as you promise not to try to hit me again," he teased.

She was defenseless; she could only stare back at him, her cheeks flushed and her breath still quickened by his touch. He was irresistible. And she was a stubborn fool. "I'm sorry it's so difficult for me to - let you in...I…I'm trying."

His blue eyes crinkled with joy once more. "I know. I'm sorry I upset you. I never meant I thought you were incapable. I don't. Not at all."

Aala gave him a swift kiss and turned to enter the code to her door, pulling him inside.

She laughed quietly as he swept her into his strong arms, sealing his mouth over hers once more. The room was small and simple with only a bed, chair, a little table by the door and a 'fresher. Neither bothered with the lights.

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, setting her down on the flat surface of the table. Weaving his fingers through her hair, he cupped the back of her head. Aala hooked her legs around his knees, pulling his body toward her.

She could feel what he felt; his longing, how much he cared for her, his desire to be near her and she felt horrible for being so harsh with him before. Was it that hard for her to accept he simply cared for her?

It didn't matter now, not with the way they were wrapped around each other; his mouth was so warm and soft against hers, and his strong hands and his solid body, the way he was touching her…

And then he scooped her up in his arms at the exact moment she heard the table crack and break, pieces of wood clattering to the hard floor beneath them.

Apparently, it wasn't built for that type of activity. Aala couldn't care less as he dropped her to the bed and followed her down.

Too soon, she felt satiated and completely spent, her limbs numb and exhausted.

Many long minutes passed before her heart slowed enough she could catch her breath. Exhaustion and utter contentment threatened to take her, but she fought them both, turning her head on the pillow to look at Obi-Wan.

Aala couldn't remember ever feeling such contented pleasure. She gave a deep, happy sigh. "Ten," she breathed, snuggling into him and tangling their legs together.

Obi-Wan chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek and wrapped his arm around her. "I hope that's ten out of ten and not ten out of one hundred..."

Aala laughed breathlessly, turning her head to kiss his shoulder. "No. Number ten," she smiled, blissful. "Whatever that was, you've never done that to me before."