Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or Star Wars. :P

Boba Fett has a surprising encounter while meeting a new client. He's…not sure what to do with this information.

May be a one-off, may add to it; marking this complete for now.

Boba is probably OOC here...I haven't ever written for him before.

Boba Fett had seen his fair share of strange things in his lifetime- working as a bounty hunter tended to lead a person into places where the crazies reside. Yet, for all his experience, he had never before felt quite so caught-off-guard as he was feeling in this moment, staring down at a set of twins whom, if he didn't know better, looked like they could have been his siblings.

(Or your niece and nephew, a small voice in his head commented, but he shoved the thought to the back of his mind and did his best to ignore it)

He wasn't sure what it was about them that struck him that way, but he made a mental note to keep the thought in mind. It sure wouldn't be the first time his instincts had led him to something important.

He may hate the Jedi for what they did to his father…but he knew better than to ignore it when he had a feeling about something like this. Just because he didn't practically worship the Force didn't mean he didn't believe in it. He'd seen too much in his lifetime for that.

The two young children he'd just found in the back of the local gang's hideout gazed back up at him with curiosity. "You lost, man?" asked the oldest of the two.

Boba grunted. "Depends. This where the Gundarks hang out?"

"Yeah?"

"Then no, I'm not lost." He made to walk past the kids, but found himself pausing at the threshold of the door. He turned his head back to glance back at them over his shoulder.

"Hey, kids."

The children looked back at him, a bit unsure of him now that he was no longer acting as a random passerby. "Yes, sir?"

"Where are your parents?"

The boy frowned at him, seeming uncertain of how he should answer. "Why do you wanna know?" he finally settled on, wariness written all over his face.

That was fine with Boba. Meant the boy was smart enough to know how dangerous that question could be. He decided a truthful answer would be reward enough for the kid's show of intelligence.

Crouching down to be closer to the kid's level, he replied, "No real reason. I guess you just…reminded me of someone. I was…curious."

The kid scrutinized him for a moment, then shrugged and turned back to watching people go about their business in the main part of the hideout. "Mom's… a waitress, here with the gang. We don't really know our father. He…disappeared back when we were little. I only remember him a little." The boy frowned. "Mom doesn't talk about him much, though. Says it's dangerous for us to know too much about him. All she's told us is he fought in the war a few years ago, and he was real excited when Mom had us." He peered up at Boba. "That enough information for you, or you got more questions?"

Boba caught himself before the snicker left his mouth. "Nah, that was it. Thanks." He stood from his crouch and stepped through the door that would take him to the back where the people posting bounties were most likely to hang out. I wonder if that conversation was even worth anything, he mused. It's not like he told me anything that I couldn't have eventually figured out for myself.

A group of people in the corner eyed his armor as he made his way over to the table closest to the front counter and waved down the closest server. However, the waitress serving their table drew their attention back to her before any of them had the chance to decide whether he was a potential target or ally.

Fine by him. He was here on business. Getting into a good bar fight might be fun, but it would only serve as a distraction from meeting his contact.

He sat down at a table some distance from the bar with his back to the wall and a good view of the rest of the room- if his client cared about secrecy, it would be best to keep himself in a position with less potential for listening ears.

Ten minutes later, a short, well (but not *too* well, the guy obviously wasn't stupid) dressed Sullustan walked into the room. He glanced around, spotted Boba, and slid into a seat on the side.

"You are the bounty hunter who was recommended to me?"

Boba inclined his head. "I am."

The Sullustan tilted his head. "You wish to do business with me?"

Boba snorted. "Why else would I be here?"

"I was only being polite, man, just making sure. Now, I've heard good things about you from my friend, but I do prefer to judge a potential employee for myself before I make any final decisions."

Boba grunted. "That's fair."

The Sullustan grinned. "I'm glad you see it that way. It speaks well for our potential working relationship." He sobered, then, seeming to pull himself into business mode. "So, to start- what's your specialty? Weaponry? Subterfuge? Sabotage?"

"Usually weapons, but I can do all three. For the right price."

"Excellent! Now, one little thing before we continue…"

Boba's gaze sharpened. Stipulations were occasionally a bad sign. "What's that?"

"Well…you see, I make a habit of ensuring I know who I'm working with— visually speaking, you understand."

Boba studied his client thoughtfully. "You want me to remove my helmet."

"Essentially, yes."

There was a pause. Then a curt, "…Why?"

"It helps to ensure job security. If I know what face is behind the mask, there is less room for an impostor to try to shoe in on another person's project. And I like to know who I'm putting in my employ."

Boba was silent for a long moment. His helmet was as much a part of him as his true face; the client was asking more than he realized. But…

Well. What with the payout this job was likely to have, it just might be worth it. And the reasons he gave were perfectly reasonable. He reached up and removed his helmet.

There was a gasp from a table across the room, and the clatter of falling dishes. Boba and the Sullustan turned towards the source of the sound.

The waitress from earlier was staring at him in utter shock, looking as if she'd seen a ghost.

If Boba's guess was correct, then in a way, he supposed she had. The two of them locked eyes for a moment. The waitress cleared her throat. "Sorry about that. You just…reminded me of someone. It's not important." She bent down to clean up the mess she had made.

Boba considered whether to say something in return, but the woman steeled herself and marched on back to the kitchen before he made up his mind. Shrugging it off, he turned back to his client. "Satisfied?"

The man bobbed his head. "Yes, yes, I believe we can continue our business. Would you like anything to drink?"

Boba declined, and put his helmet back on as the meeting continued.

An hour or so later, when his business was concluded and he was preparing to leave, the waitress caught his eye and jerked her head towards the counter.

Figuring he had no real reason to refuse, Boba stepped up to the counter and settled against the wall. He didn't have to wait for very long, as the waitress soon made her way to the counter and began to wipe it down with a cloth.

A moment later, she spoke. "I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier. I'm afraid you startled me."

He grunted. "It happens. What did you want to talk with me about?"

She hesitated. "I suppose… I was wondering…" she took a deep breath. "Do you…have any contact with… others like you?"

He raised an eyebrow, not that she could see it. "Others like me?"

She huffed. "Oh, don't give me that. You know exactly what I'm talking about, mister I-wear-my-helmet-indoors."

Boba grimaced. Much as he hated to admit it, he did know what she meant.

It's certainly an odd feeling to know that his face was a lot more common than your average lookalike scenario.

He sighed. "Why do you want to know?"

The waitress paused her pseudo-cleaning and pressed her lips together in a thin line. "I got a couple kids. Their father's been gone for…a long time." She turned to look him square in the helmet. "He looks an awful lot like you. Thought maybe you knew each other."

Boba snorted and decided to stop beating around the bush. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn't ever a part of that whole thing. I may…look an awful lot like someone you know, but I guarantee you I never met him. Now if that's all you had to say, I need to head out." He turned around to make good on his word, but the woman reached out and caught his wrist. "Wait!"

He froze in place, barely suppressing the instinct to attack. "Lady, I don't have any information for you." he bit out. "And you'd better let me go if you want to keep the information you've got."

"I know," she murmured. "I know you can't tell me anything else, I just…"

He growled, "Just what?!"

"I want more security for my children."

Boba blinked. "Security? Look, I'm not a bodyguard. Especially not for free. You couldn't afford me even if I was willing."

The waitress stared at him, then snorted as though he'd said something funny. "I don't mean that sort of security, although I admit it might be nice. I was talking about family security."

He didn't understand. "…Family security?"

"Yes. I'm their only family, you see, and, well…working in these sorts of circles doesn't exactly lend itself to long lifespans." Her dark eyes glittered with resolve. "I want you to take care of them, if something happens to me."

He stared at her for a long moment in disbelief. Regaining his voice, he stuttered out, "M-me?!" he shook his head, completely thrown for the first time in…he didn't even know how long. "What the everloving kriff makes you think I would be a good choice for a guardian?! You don't even know me! You have no idea who I am, what kind of life I lead, what I- I-"

"I know you're the closest thing they've got to family."

"What? No, I-"

She leaned in close enough to speak very softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet devastating in the wake of her words. "You are a clone, right?"

He swallowed, and admitted, "…yes."

But that's not-…

He knew he was a clone just like the others, but…his father had always treated him like his own person, had reassured him that Boba was his son, not his copy. And yet…didn't that make all those other clones his father's sons too, despite the modifications? The only true difference between them was the lack of alterations. If anything, the clones in the army were actually further from Jango genetically than Boba himself was.

It wasn't a thought he allowed to plague him often, but that didn't mean it wasn't there, floating in the back of his mind, waiting for the occasional moment when he would pull the thought out and toy with it for awhile.

As a child, it had been a point of intrigue, having so many relatives, even if the relationship was never really acknowledged. As a teenager, reeling from the death of his father, it was equally a blessing and a curse, knowing he wasn't really alone…but that his brothers would never know him, and they were too busy with the Jedi's war even if they did.

Now…well. Those clones who weren't in hiding were working for the Empire, and Boba preferred to work alone, anyway. But this…

Why had he never considered this before? There had been hundreds of millions of clones in the war, scattered all across the galaxy. Many of them were in mobile positions, going from place to place to place with little break…but there had to have been some who were in more stationary posts. Some who had managed to form relationships.

And, apparently…have children?

Oh, by the twisting paths of the Maw…if there were children here on this backwater of all places, there could be children anywhere. The clones had been deployed over the entire galaxy- even if only a few of them had kids, that still meant-…

He closed his eyes. Looks like my family might be a little bigger than I thought.

He ended up agreeing to the mother's request. Not that he thought it was a good idea, but…

Well. Family was important to a Mandalorian. And Boba wasn't about to shirk his own duties to his family. Not anymore. He'd had enough of that for a lifetime.

He may never be able to meet his brothers. He's not even sure if he still wants to. But the least he can do is make sure their children have something to fall back on.