Scene 8 – The Naaaame Game

Vacy dropped her head as she approached Darmas. "Mr. Pollaran, I am … I can't even begin to tell you how …" She looked up, her brows furrowing, nose wrinkling as she thought. "Embarrased? That, but not only that. Horrified? De'nitely. No, I think 'ashamed' is the best way of puttin' it." She looked up into the man's dark eyes, breathing a bit easier when she saw the tension leaving his expression. "I'm so ashamed. And I'm so, so sorry. Can you forgive me fer puttin' you through it?"

His smile was gentle, and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "You are simply amazing, my dear. Of course. Though, there is something I would ask in return."

Vacy simply nodded, listening.

He took a slow breath, stepping closer. "I know that we are recent associates." Reaching forward, he took both of her hands in both of his. "But – in the hopes that perhaps we may become more, I would invite you to call me Darmas."

She blinked, eyes widening, then smiled shyly and looked down. "I – well, thank you." And then she looked up again, with a little curious frown. "Really? I mean, I'm – honored, really, but – I feel a little odd." She laughed, just a moment. "It – you're Darmas Pollaran, legendary sabaac player, an' everybody knows you, an' you know, like, EV'RYBODY, an' sometimes it seems like everything, too." Looking deep into his eyes, she lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. "An' I'm just me. Vacy. Some just-started-out so-called captain who can't even defend her own ship," she finished in a small voice, looking uncertain. "I'm –"

He placed one finger on her lips, and she fell silent. "Don't say it," he murmured, taking her hand again. "You're not nobody, Captain," and at the confidence and certainty in his voice, she smiled again. "You will get your ship back. And I believe you will go on to do great things." He lifted her hands, and kissed her knuckles, slowly, one at a time. "Your hopes – your dreams – the fire that others see in you? It makes us believe." He smiled wryly at her. "Even an old man like me. When I see you, it seems like anything is possible."

Vacy wrinkled her nose at him, and as he finished the knuckle-smooches – a little cheesy, true, but kind of sweet – she gently boxed him in the nose. "Baloney," she retorted softly. "Y'ain't old. You're handsome, an' charming, an' clever…" She swallowed – somehow she was much closer to him than she'd remembered a moment ago. "An' maybe a little intimidating."

That caught him off guard, and he laughed in surprise. "What? How … what?" he sputtered, grinning at her.

And now she twinkled her eyes back at him, mischief in her smile. "I betcha don't even realize how nervous somebody like me gets 'round you. 'Fraid I'll say somethin' dumb an' make an even worse idjit of m'self when I really, really want you t' like me." Vacy abruptly pressed her lips together, her eyes wide in horror. "Somethin' like that," she added, wincing.

Darmas slipped an arm around her waist, cradling her against him. "But I do like you, Captain Fiorst," he said quietly. "Very much."

Her pulse pounding in her ears, she took a shaky breath. "Darmas," she whispered, shivering a little. "Then – won't you – I mean – will you call me Vacy?" The last part came out in a bit of a rush, and she was glad he was holding her, because she wasn't certain how steady her knees were.

"Vacy," he whispered with a smile, and her breath caught in her throat. And slowly, ever so carefully, she leaned forward just a touch, and rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.