One Hundred and Seven

Freya finished washing the morning dishes and was tucking the towel into the rail when he entered the kitchen.

"How you settling in?"

His voice, again surprised her.

"Fine," she said turning, but Stoyan could see that she was anything but.

"You know you can't lie to a Jedi?"

She looked down and smiled, "apparently not."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"Yes, but it's what he's not saying that worries me more."

"It will take him time to trust again Freya, I now because - ."

"But I didn't break his trust!" Freya blurted out, "for all intents and purposes, he was dead, Force, listen to me," she said, her words trailing off.

"Go to him. I'll take Marek," he said sweeping down to the infant busy with a drop of water on the floor, "it'll give me a chance to get to know my nephew better."

Freya nodded and removed her apron.

They had been back on Scillal for three days, and Echo had made himself unavailable to her and his child, in every sense of the word.

It was as if everything they had wished for had come true but they were still in denial that such a gift could be handed to them.

A second chance at life.

A second chance at love.

.

She knew where he would be, by the lake setting the nets for the day in hope to catch something edible for the evening meal. She quietly watched as his bare torso glistened in the morning sun, every muscle flexed and toned. He had a carefree, weathered look about him, his skin tanned and it was obvious he was the fittest he had ever been. He was different, taller yes, but there was a level of calm surrounding him; the earnest, young soldier she once knew on Coruscant had been replaced by a man more content with his own self than ever before.

Or so it seemed. Echo was the perfect clone façade; inwardly, he was a mess.

He knew he was being watched.

You could take the soldier out of the war, but not out of the man.

"Are you planning on spending all day watching?"

"I dunno. The view's kinda good back here," she replied cheekily as she made her way over the loose stones towards him. Echo turned and extended his hand to help when she lost her footing, teetering uncertainly. He moved faster than a Razor cat, pulling her into him with such ease it took her breath away.

Pressed up against his bare chest, Freya closed her eyes and breathed him in. No scent, the clones never used toiletries with fragrance, but he was as familiar to her as her favourite perfume. She cast her eyes up to see his jaw set tight and two brown eyes boring down on her.

"Easy goes it," he said as he loosened his grip. She reluctantly stepped back and smoothed her dress, the heat immediately staining her cheeks.

"Echo?"

"Mmm?" He continued to wind up some heavy ropes, and she noticed how each loop was perfectly shaped and balanced over his biceps.

"You do want us here, don't you?"

"What kinda question is that! Of course I do."

"It's just, well, you haven't really spoken to me about anything since we arrived."

It was true, he had been avoiding her. Stoyan had already given him an ear full, and Freya had deflected the tension by busying herself with establishing a toddler in the household.

"It's time to talk Echo. I can wait for everything else, but," she chose her words carefully, "I can't help if I don't understand where you have been, what happened to y - "

"OK," he rushed out stopping her, "ok. Where's Marek."

"Stoyan has him."

Echo dropped the heavy coil down on the black sand of the lake and dusted his hands together. He then became aware of his lack of attire and promptly placed a shirt back over his head.

Sitting down next to her he slapped his left hand onto her thigh lightly, and then grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"So soft," he mused, Freya just relished in the physical act.

She heard him blow out a deep breath before he began and it was two hours before he finished.

Echo told Freya everything.

He left no stone unturned.

He wanted to be clear from the very beginning just what sort of hell he had lived through.

From the moment he begged for his life, to the crash landing that ended Marlo's. But throughout the intimate, and often brutally open recounting of events one theme rang true, and that was his love for her.

It never faltered.

"My thoughts were only ever of getting off that osik hole of a place and back to you and my child Freya. You believe me don't you?"

"Yes." She stared into his eyes and she could see the honesty and intent of his confession. He had been lost, and now, she had to find him all over again; relearn everything she had taken for granted would still be there.

"Your new legs Echo, how do they - " she placed her hand on his thigh and was struck by the lack of warmth. Echo flinched.

He wasn't prepared for her to ask any questions regarding the prosthetic limbs.

The ones he loathed and loved at the same time.

Loathed as they made him part machine and loved because once they were attached, they were his ticket off the Citadel and eventually back to her.

She persisted, replacing her hand back on his leg.

"Please Echo. Show me?"

He swallowed and nodded before he stood and somewhat reluctantly pulled his trousers down.

Freya, still seated, was at the level of attachment. There was a feint line across both thighs, where the synthetic skin had enmeshed itself with Echo's.

"Can you feel anything?"

"Yes, electrical currents allow electrotonus that simulate nerves. It's quite amazing actually."

She couldn't help but smile. This was the old Echo she knew.

"So, you can feel me touching your knee?"

She saw the synthetic skin pucker, "oh yes," he said happily, looking down at his legs.

"And this?" she said more provocatively as she moved her hand to the inside of his right thigh.

"Yes," he replied, incapable of anything more.

"What about this?" Freya stood up slowly and moved her hand to his groin.

It was a bold move, but she wanted to let him know that she accepted him, as complete, or incomplete as he was.

Echo swayed momentarily closing his eyes, which, when he opened them again, were dark with passion.

"Are you sure?"

"There has never been any doubt," Freya nuzzled herself under his chin, his passion swelling in her hand.

The familiar pull was still apparent.

His eyes searching hers, he waited until he could no longer hold control and pulled her into him.

"Freya, oh Freya. I never thought," he muttered, "I still don't believe," he was incoherent, continually trailing his lips around her face.

His mouth softly closed over hers, coaxing it open so he could deepen the kiss, all the while one strong arm held her securely into him.

Freya released her hand and moved both up his taunt shoulders, cupping them behind his head. Their tongues found a natural rhythm until she heard a low groan of pleasure. He pulled her away from him and scanned the area by the lake.

"I need you. Now," his voice, that beautiful voice, the one she would force herself to remember and cry long into the night over was music to her heart.

Freya was in no position to deny him, her own hunger matching the ARC's.

Echo dragged the shirt over his head and stepped out of the trousers at his ankles. Freya promptly removed her underwear and watched as he removed his trunks. They then collided against one another, collapsing to the shore of the lake. Rolling together along the dirty looking black sand, Freya lifted her arms up as Echo tugged at her dress, and instantly relieved her of her brassiere; laughing heartily when two perfect bosoms bounced free.

"These are what I have missed," he said as he buried his head between them. Coming back up for air he flicked her legs apart with his knees before he unceremoniously sank into her. Freya sucked in a quick breath at the intensity, while Echo continued to sait all the longing the Citadel had built inside of him.

Echo found it hard to control the pace his body was initiating, and Freya knew just how important this union was for his self-confidence as well as re-establishing their relationship.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after the spasms subsided.

Freya wasn't the least perturbed.

They now had their whole lives to practise the skills of love making.

Echo watched as she redressed.

"I'm AWOL Freya. I can never return to Coruscant."

Freya was stepping back into her dress, "you were the only good thing about that planet." An awkward silence ensued, she could sense he wanted to continue.

"Echo?"

"It's nothing," he said, looking away.

"Echo, come on," she implored, "look at me," she bent forward and grabbed his chin, turning his face to meet her. "What is it?"

Echo felt embarrassed. After everything they had both been through, alone, fighting individually for their very existence, his thoughts weren't of Freya or Marek.

Somehow he always knew she would be alright.

"Fives?" he whispered. "Do you know if he," he cleared his throat, "if he is still alive?"

Freya sat down next to him. She then told Echo about the night his best friend delivered the news of his death.

It was sobering, but necessary.

Echo had no excuse now, he couldn't dwell on the past, it was no longer there. They had both survived and it was time to move forward.

They were a family now.

And within another standard month, there would be another reason to celebrate

life.

.