Even Rich Girls Get the Blues (Rugsy)

[Poludnica]

Ambient

The filthy moon was riddled with twisting, dark streets, winding and carving into each district like so many rodent tunnels. Blackened market stands tucked away behind long forgotten buildings, left to rot alone in Nar Shaddaa decay. These disgusting passageways were infested with things Danica never wanted to meet. It was one of main reasons she had stayed in a private dock area, surrounded by guards . There were seven of them, her father's mercenaries and long time associates. All former Republic military who decided to look better fortune elsewhere. And of course, all of them humans.

It was a deal of sort, between her and Devon. She would never afford this trip without access to bigger cash only the lawyer had on her father's behalf. As Danica suspected, the man had opposed at first, deeming it foolish and irresponsible but it didn't take long to convince him. To the point the woman had a nagging thought that it was what the lawyer had wanted from the start. To get rid of her from Coruscant. At least for some time. The terms had forced her to stay surrounded by Liv & Co. security, with only a handful of her own people. Four other art and history specialists and two engineers. The last of the crew had belonged to Cassius and now Devon.

She didn't give up so easily though, her father may had been a cold hearted bastard but one thing he had taught Danica well was to never let anyone best you in your own game. A week before the planned trip, when she had already known the schedule, the woman had sent a short message to a contact named 'Nieraan'. It was not the name the Firrerreo had given her three weeks earlier, but she had always suspected it to be false. Or at least not his first one.

The information was short, laconic and emotionless:


“I have a job for you. Meet me on Nar Shaddaa, dock 13 near Promenade. Look for 'Marsune' frigate.
Danica”[/color]

Similarly to the attitude she thought to have toward the assassin. It had been three weeks, Danica had gotten over it and that was just business. Just business...Appeared way too often in her mind though, as if the woman was trying to convince herself about something. Lost in entangled strings of own rationalizations, Danica was sure the reason for proposing a job to this particular man was nothing more than looking for someone competent. It didn't occur to her, there were plenty of other mercenaries out there but somehow the idea of not hiring this Nieraan caused unpleasant turmoil inside her. Danica labeled it simply as stress with incoming task of course. It was better to have a hireling whose skills and prowess she was sure of. That was what the assassin would be – a hired gun.

Of course no one from her team could know about how the two had met, especially someone who would rat it out to Devon. Danica shuddered at the idea but at the same time it caused a small trembling thrill to travel up her spine. It was the woman's own, passive aggressive rebellion against the values people like Cassius had tried to drown her in.

It had nothing to do with missing the mysterious assassin. His gentle touch and body that...Stop that! Her hand balled into fist and nails dug deep into the skin, pain dispersing annoying thoughts. Danica inhaled deeply, trying to relax. She was seating on a small bench, eying her guard with a mixture of irritation and anxiety. It was a leader of the pack, Broca Jaxx. A veteran of Mandalorian Wars or so he claimed. Big, burly human with a racist attitude that reminded her of Cassius and pissed off to no end.

”Why won't you stand over there?” Danica hissed at the man who was casually leaning against the wall couple of feet from her. The former soldier shrugged and shuffled away two inches maybe with a shrug. His expression as indifferent as before. A mask made from scars and wrinkles.

Verdant eyes narrowed angrily. Broca had similar attitude toward her like Devon – a spoiled princess, a brat you needed to watch closely like she was sixteen and not twenty seven. They recognized her as boss to an extend but...No, they still had treated her as boss' daughter. The harrowing argument to allow Nieraan on board - an alien scum and a criminal – had been the worst experience of this trip so far. Danica had a growing suspicion that Broca agreed to it only to shoot the Firrerreo later. It was not like he hadn't done it in the past on Cassius' order. Everyone close enough to the former CEO were aware of who the ex-soldier really was.

The woman pulled herself up from the bench, letting her long, carmine dress to fall on the ground. Nar Shaddaa or not, Danica liked to look pretty, which had its bad sides as well. Especially when Broca was giving her lecherous stares she despised. ”He will be here.” The woman snapped, noticing a flicker of amusement at the mercenarie's face when the clock struck midnight. There was so much desperation in Danica's voice, it only made Broca's grin to grow wider.

((( Broca <------ click! ^.^ )))

[Rugs]

"Dock 13, near the promenade..."

Nieraan stalked quietly through the streets, which were clogged as ever with the poor and living refuse.

"Dock 13...."

His hands were stuffed casually into his jacket's pockets and he walked with his hood up. Some would call that foolish, but there was a certain aura about the Firrerreo that kept would-be pickpocketers away.

The fact that he'd already snapped the wrist of one lout who'd been stupid enough to try probably helped. So too did the knowledge that the wrist he'd broken had belonged to a boy who couldn't have been out of his teens yet; though as far as anyone else could tell from a look, Nieraan was barely twenty. Cruel, perhaps, but it was a life lesson of the sort his mother would've given him. Failure always had a price. Always.

Maybe the kid would be more careful next time. Once his wrist healed.

Turn here. Down the alley and over the catwalk...

"Dock 13..."

His mind wandered as he left the stream of the poor and hopeless and moved into a more peaceful side path. For much of the trip from Korriban, he'd thought about Danica. After three weeks, he'd thought she'd forgotten about him and moved on; it probably would be best for both of them that way. He had moved on, more or less, though every now and then, when he had a quiet moment on the Nyoka, he found himself looking back on that cold night on Naboo with a certain degree of fondness.

Then he'd gotten the message. A job. She had need of him.

It didn't take him long to decide what he was going to do, so he left Jack with the Nyoka and took a shuttle from Korriban to the Smuggler's Moon.

Once he actually made it to the surface, he'd been delayed a bit. Nieraan hadn't actually spent much time on Nar Shaada, and though it reminded him of a different sort of Metellos, he got sidetracked before he figured out where he was going.

But now he was on the right track, and all was well.

Dock 13.

Nieraan ignored a strange look from a passing man as he walked across a catwalk that spanned a narrow chasm between two towering skyscrapers. His lightsabers were in plain view, the tips of their hilts sticking out slightly from the top of the holster he had for them at his waist.

He carried a bag on his back. His armor was in it. Just in case.

Nieraan crossed the catwalk, walked a few more blocks, and before long, he could see the promenade and the docks ahead of him. That meant Danica was there.

Something turned in his stomach. Anticipation and a bit of trepidation mixed and he felt a flutter of nervousness. Said flutter was crushed as Nieraan took control of his emotions and hardened them, keeping a steady pace and air about him as he walked. Danica was just a woman. A pretty woman, perhaps, with soft, smooth skin and nice, full lips...

But still just a woman. And this was just another job for him; something he could grab onto as familiar.

As he entered the dockyards and began working his way toward her dock in particular, Nieraan stretched out his senses, feeling through the noise from so many people in one place. There. He could feel her, just a little ways away. Her presence was like a familiar face in a sea of strangers.

Another touch of emotion hit his stomach. Nieraan crushed it as he had the last.

He approached the Dock and pulled down his hood, letting his mane of shaggy hair free and bringing his face into plain sight. Danica was there, along with some other men and one big, hulking man in particular.

Nieraan began to silently approach them...

[Poludnica]

”You're an as*hat Broca.” Danica snapped at the burly man who just chuckled at this display of immaturity and stepped away some more. The girl waved her hand theatrically to show a displeasure at the cigaret’s smoke. With hurt expression, the woman began to walk toward the exit from the docks, wondering idly how long till the soldier would follow her. That was Danica, always testing the borders of her cage.

She began to lose hope that the Firrerreo would show up. Why would he? There were no feelings between them which the alien made clear storming off like that. Then again he left a note. Hastily scribbled instructions which told her much more than just how to contact him but so much more. The writing was angular, most likely belonged to someone impulsive, haste to anger and poorly educated. At least by her standards. Everyone she knew, including Cassius used complex words, lovely style and careful handwriting. This note was from someone who didn't have to write often. Unfortunately, against all odds, it only added to his exotic appeal.

Angry, Danica had thrown away the napkin at first only to gather it later. She still had had it, hidden among her belongings. A fact the girl was very deeply ashamed of. Naïve, stupid... Accusations flared in her mind making her ready to just leave when a single figure, clad in dark clothes appeared a the edge of a docking station.

For a moment she stopped breathing, waiting for the man to walk closer, until he was no more than couple of meters. In the bright light of Promenade docks, Danica could see his yellow eyes looking at her– it wasn't the gaze of a deep thinker but luminous and clever nonetheless. The one she had remembered from Naboo. It gave him the appearance of innocence and youth. Yes, he was young. Unable to completely push the encounter from her thoughts, Danica had studied information regarding Aurelius' species. As she suspected, this male could be in his thirties if not older.

The memories from their night together returned with force Danica would not expect. By the God, this isn’t happening. The woman squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the foolish thoughts from her mind with a deep, calming breath, realizing too late that she had only managed to exacerbate the problem. The crimson blush intensified, burning at her skin as she wondered what to say. Feeling of embarrassment only added to flutterbugs still stirring around in her stomach.

Anger, change it to anger. He has killed people. He has used you...But it felt so good.” Even if Danica didn't want to fight the feelings growing inside her, there were appearances to keep. No one from her father's circle could know about what had occurred on Naboo. Getting every single shred of emotion under control, or desperately trying to, the human stepped closer, stopping at the arm's length from Aurelius...Or Nieraan. ”So which one is your true name?” She asked bluntly, not letting herself to show any true feelings that could be noticed by anyone.

Broca was no fool, however, a simple soldier but not a fool. He could see the alien was handsome, the way his boss' daughter reacted at first. The faint gleam of genuine relief and happiness didn't escape him. That was not good. He knew that girl since she was a toddler, always getting into troubles but the lightsabers at the alien's belt had told him these troubles might have been too much. Broca harbored a lot of dislike toward the Force users, especially scummy aliens. And that was no human. I want to see how you stop a heated slug with those fancy swords, stupid boy. The man didn't verbalize this thought, only moved few steps closer to Danica who was visibly flustered.

[Rugs]

The woman watched Nieraan as he approached.

He watched her as well, noting the manner of her dress, the way she stood with an obvious sense of unease as she waited for him to get closer with an obvious sense. Maybe the unease was only obvious to him; not everyone could read the patterns emotions left in the Force's fabric, after all.

As Nieraan realized as he approached Danica that his observations had shifted to the physical aspects of her--her thick black hair, the soft features of her face and full lips...

It was the eyes that kept catching him, though. They were the way he remembered them: vibrantly green and fierce, lively. Clever.

Alluring.

Stop it, he chided himself. You're here for a job.

The Firrerreo made quick glances at the others gathered around the dock while he finished his approach. A few guardsmen, mostly. Whether mercenaries or Danica's own loyal men, he couldn't yet guess, but he decided that knowledge would come soon enough.

One of them stood out immediately from the others, though. He was a big, towering brute of a man, and Nieraan could feel his gaze on him as he walked. Gentle probing in the Force told Nieraan that the big man didn't like him. That's his business. Long as he keeps his head out of his ass, he won't get hurt.

Nieraan stopped a pace or so away from Danica. She'd composed herself somewhat more than when she first saw him.

”So which one is your true name?”

The question was so abrupt that Nieraan was caught off guard, blinking for a moment. Danica spoke bluntly, and so flatly that he was momentarily surprised.

He recovered quickly, though, holding back a little smile. I get it. Trying to act tough in front of your men. To Danica's credit, she was putting on an admirable facade. Nieraan, though, could see deeper than any of her men could, and no matter how she talked to her or held herself, he still could feel the truth of her with the Force.

"Mmm, depends," he answered after a moment, allowing a little smirk to match the wryness of his voice. "Which one do you want it to be?"

Nieraan was well aware of how young he looked physically. It was a tool he used sometimes for his own devices. Act the part of a young man who'd only just left being a boy behind. See how her hired men reacted; see which ones might have to get put in their place if they tried something stupid with him.

"Besides, that's not important. But one thing is..." Nieraan folded his arms across his chest. His eyes met Danica's briefly, before a flutter of movement in the periphery of his vision caught his attention. It was the big man, moving closer to Danica. He wasn't doing a good job of hiding any malevolence he felt toward Neiraan, for whatever reason; he didn't even know the guy.

Definitely keeping an eye on him.

Nieraan went back to ignoring the man. "What did you call me here for, and what are you planning to do?"

[Poludnica]

((Was distracted when writing this so may not flow nicely :< Sorry!))

There was one thing Danica both loathed and admired in the Firrerreo. It was the ability to challenge her control, her values and leave her breathless with only few words spoken. There seemed to be a constant battle between them – everyone had their edge and he persistently made it his goal to push the woman over hers. The way the assassin had eyes her, but didn't move close enough for them to touch, despite the obvious spark of attraction and tension between them.


Her heart wouldn't calm down as it beat strongly in her chest. Despite cold and professional facade the woman couldn't move her attention away from the recollection of their first meeting. Everything returned immediately – his touch, his scent, fine body and soft breathing when they had laid together. Gold, of course, unforgettable gold. There had been a lot of gold back then. Her eyes instinctively moved to take a closer look. The man's skin was silver now, the gilded shin completely gone now. Shame, it was... Danica caught the unruly image before it could do any more damage. She was already at the verge of breaking into a ball of wrecked nerves and longing.

Remember what he had done to you. He left; he doesn't care; you were just another fling scored for him. The thought didn't cause anger like Danica intended, however, but more of a sadness that had plagued her for last weeks. As*hole! Muscles of her jaw clenched in firm resolve not to let him get close again. Instead the woman focused on his shaggy hair and distastefully grime, unfashionable clothes. Not a man for you, certainly. Everyone would agree you can do better than that. Unfortunately it wasn't very convincing ; only caused Danica to remember very clearly the moment her fingers dug into his thick blue-black mane. Damnit!

There was something pleasurable in seeing tell tales of surprise painted on the man's face. He didn't let himself to show more but it was enough for Danica to feel a pang of satisfaction. Probably he expected some lovey-dovey welcome, kiss on a cheek and 'thank you'. Not a chance. ”I don't know, I think I will settle for 'that annoying brat.” She responded coldly to the Firrerreo. His smirk annoyed her for some reason; his lack of any visible emotion or affection aside from the mild surprise annoyed the woman even more. But nothing was as bad as his constant avoidance of giving his proper name. It felt like the Firrerreo toyed with her, thought after their night together he could show at least some courtesy.

Yes, down to business - it was important after all. He was here for a job and nothing more. His behavior only helped to make Danica's mind. The assassin came here for money, not for silly, romantic ideals she might have had. ”Follow me.” The woman said aloofly as if Nieraan was only a hireling and not someone she had spent the whole night together. The Firrerreo wanted to be professional, so be it. Danica could be to.

Her high heels made a clanking noise that echoed in the dock 13. She was going toward a small, luxurious looking bar near the entrance to the dockyard. Something was not right though...There was another set of heavy footsteps behind them. Danica stopped and whipped her head. ”Broca, leave me alone for a while.” She started, her calm composure slowly breaking. The man had noticed it and smirked. ”You know your father doesn't appreciate such things coming near you.” The soldier said casually, gesturing at Nieraan.

”My father is comatosed. What I do is none of your business.” Danica snapped back, taking a step closer toward Broca. Her cheeks flared in anger.

”Your father paid me to make it my business.”

”His money is my money.” The emotions on her face became even more vivid when her neck flushed with crimson glow.

”Not, as long as you don't know what's good for you, Dany. “ Broca smiled at the woman, knowing fully well what it would evoke.

”How dare you...You don't get to order me around.”

”No? Remember few years ago when I had to fling you over my shoulder to drag from that party.” The man's rumbling laughter rolled through the thick air, which caused a dangerous bubble of fury to swell in her throat.

”Get lost, I don't want you to eavesdrop!!!” The situation became more and more absurd. Danica hated what Nieraan had just witnessed – that nearly dead man had so much sway over her life to the point his thugs were able to tell the young woman what she could and couldn't do. To treat her like a spoiled, ranting child. No doubt if Broca was sure what had occurred between her and the Firrerreo, the assassin would have to fight for every next second of his life. Force or not.

”Say the magic word.” The soldier said teasingly, as if she was but a little girl. Danica cried out in helpless, agonizing rage.

”F*ck you!”

”Nope, that is not the magic word.” Broca stated with a wide grin.

Danica didn't listen; wiping tears away, she walked into the bar. Not even sure if the Firrerreo had stayed around. For once, the girl would certainly understand his willingness to leave her. That was an embarrassing display.

((Broca is not following, he was just messing with her, if you would like to put Nieraan's reaction anywhere of there is something he would certainly react, lemme know :3 ))

[Rugs]

”I don't know, I think I will settle for 'that annoying brat.”

Nieraan laughed quietly at Danica. "That annoying brat, hm? Is that all I am?" The temptation to say more was so, so very strong. It was hard to resist, but for the woman's sake, Nieraan kept the rest of what he wanted to say to a subtle smirk and mischievous little glint in his youthful eyes.

He still withheld any real answer from Danica. Perhaps he'd tell her later, but for the interim, it was a source of amusement for him.

So too was the way she tried so valiantly to keep her emotions hidden from the men around. She acted so cold, but her feelings in the Force, that quiet sense of longing for him...

It reminded him of when he'd been with her in that room back on Naboo, moving around half naked while he changed out of his armor. She'd denied it so much there too, but her eyes and emotions didn't lie.

On the one hand, it was really quite amusing for the Firrerreo, the way she struggled with herself. On the other, though, he felt a genuine thankfulness for it; it wasn't a feeling he was used to at all, and an internal struggle that echoed one of his own, whether he wanted to admit that it or not.

”Follow me,” Danica said abruptly. Without waiting on him, she turned around and started walking off toward a bar.

Nieraan eyed her backside for a heartbeat, remembering that soft skin felt beneath his hands. He shook the thoughts away and began to follow her, but then, something happened.

She stopped and turned around to the big man--Broca--that was following her. A short, terse exchange broke out between the two. Nieraan just stood silently, watching and listening.

He didn't know much about this Broca man, but he was obviously more than some hired hand for whatever excursion Danica was planning. The conversation spoke of a long, ongoing relationship, and with mentions of Danica's father...

Nieraan furrowed his brows slightly. Danica had suddenly stormed off, tears in her eyes. He looked at Broca through narrowed eyes for a silent moment, surprised to find that he was annoyed at the man for upsetting Danica.

Without a word to Broca, Nieraan set off, following Danica into the bar.

He caught up with her inside and joined her, sitting silently beside her for a few moments while he tried to figure out what to do. His head said that he shouldn't care; he was a Sith, she was his employer, and fooling himself into thinking he really cared for her would only make another weakness in himself he couldn't afford to deal with.

That didn't make his emotions jump in line like they should've, though.

I don't need to deal with this, he chided himself. And yet, here he was. Wanting her to be happy.

"He upset you," Nieraan muttered, stating the obvious. He reached with a finger to her soft face and wiped away a tear. "You shouldn't cry."

He felt awkward in his actions, and his tongue felt like wood in his mouth. Nieraan was skilled at many things; some of them even related to romance, if in the physical, as Danica had learned on that cold night on Naboo. But comfort was a foreign thing to him; he might as well have been trying to describe some truth of the universe he didn't understand himself.

Yet, he tried. In the only ways he knew how.

"I can... I can deal with him," he continued slowly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "All you have to do is tell me to..."

[Poludnica]

The alien looked displeased with what had happened. Broca could almost smell growing hostility when the lad's sickly looking eyes narrowed. ”She will play you, like so many before and you will fall for it like a hungry dog, kid.” The aged mercenary grinned maliciously and walked away, though stayed close enough to watch the doors. For a moment he tried to place the young alien's species. It had silly name..Firr...Fero...Ferrari...Some really stupid mouthful. This said, he also looked dangerous. Dangerous enough for Broca to open the datapad and send a short message via cold void.

The air in the bar seemed to be stifling as an unbearably heavy weight began to crush Danica's chest. The girl sat down in the farthest of the restaurant. The conversation was over but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Her hand scooped a small tissue from equally unimpressive in size purse. She froze in place feeling someone sitting next to her. It was Nieraan of course.

Torn between the need of comfort and fear of shameful rejection, the woman shifted uneasily not really knowing what to expect. It was of those outbursts that left her embarrassed and weak; like a little girl that had lost the temper and left in a helpless tantrum. It was exactly what Broca wanted, what they all wanted. To show how weak and pathetic she was.

Soft words spoken in familiar voice drew Danica away from her misery and self-indulging pity. A finger came close to wipe away a single tear. This small touch awoken the last moments of their night together – the deep sense of loss. Forgetting pain was convenient. Remembering it, agonizing but it also gave a faint streak of hope. Maybe money was not his motivation at all. There was something very wrong with the world when a hired killer treated you better than your own parent.

”I deserve my bitter tears Nieraan, believe me.” She responded with a small sniff. A pair of verdant eyes looked up to meet sun-flared orbs and small frown formed between carefully shaped eyebrows. Through haze of her own storming emotions Danica could see the Firrerreo was unsure, lost. Anger faded for a brief moment, she was barely remembering why there was irritation with him in the first place.

For few heartbeats Danica didn't know what to say, especially after Nieraan made his proposal. ”You..you can do what?” She shook her head and chuckled through long streams of tears. It was shocking with what ease the Firrerreo could kill but it didn't scare her anymore. It was not Nieraan who had locked her in a cage after all. Even if the bars were made of pure gold. Her slender, pale fingers rested on the man's hand. ”I don't think you can help here. He would just find someone else. Even on his deathbed. At least Broca never crosses too many lines.” She said not really sure if to be scared or happy with unorthodox glimpse of care the Firrerreo had just presented.

After a moment, Danica made the decision and leaned to kiss the assassin. ”I missed you...” Soft whisper left her lips. The change of demeanor from he last few moments was astonishing and little could guess if it was just a game or genuine feeling. There was never many tell-tales to alarm others when the ever shifting tide of moods and emotions would turn again.

[Rugs]

”I don't think you can help here. He would just find someone else. Even on his deathbed. At least Broca never crosses too many lines.”

Nieraan looked at Danica dumbly for a moment. How couldn't he help? Maybe 'someone else' would be better than that big oaf of a man.

And who is 'he?'

Nieraan was beginning to realize that there were obviously things about Danica that he didn't know. Things that he couldn't know. And why shouldn't there be; he had secrets of his own, secrets of the heart that were his and his alone. Physical intimacy didn't mean he knew her, not really knew her.

Just as she didn't really know him; she still didn't even know which name was his real one.

He was sitting there, trying to think of what to say and looking at the small, delicate hand resting on his when he felt movement beside him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Danica leaning toward him. Then he felt the warmth of a kiss on his cheek.

His black brows rose in surprise. A blush gave soft color to his cheeks as the silver in his skin faded ever-so-slightly. Once more, he found himself not really sure what to say.

Was she serious? It wasn't often--or ever--that anyone said anything like that to him; especially meaning it in the way she had. His head said that she didn't really mean it, said that he was something familiar for her to cling to while she was distressed. But his soul...

His soul wasn't so sure.

A corner of his mouth lifted slightly, showing a tip of one of his familiar canines. "Did you?" he asked carefully. With a gentle, wary caution, his hand left her shoulder and the comfort of her own touch. His arm moved around her, his hand falling on her far side as he pulled her lightly against his side in a sort of embrace. He was firm, but he held her almost tenderly.

Part of him couldn't stop screaming that he was a fool.

"What, wanted to throw more fruit at me?" Nieraan continued, feeling a little more sure of himself. He fell silent then, wondering what to say. There were questions he wanted to ask, information he needed to know, and yet...

"I missed you too."

[Poludnica]

When Nieraan had given her a dumbfounded look, Danica realized she would never understand the impulses that drove him; would never quite feel the intensity that, over time, had made him into a hardened assassin. But maybe she could feel close enough to him when The Firrerreo held her as though they were something more than a pair of casual lovers. His arm weighed much, felt almost constrictive around her neck but the woman didn't move away. She liked the possessive grip the man had closed her in, gave a sense of safety. Safe around a killer...There had to be something wrong with that.

The little kiss seemed to catch him off guard. The Firrerreo seemed so unfamiliar with such gestures of affection it seemed to always stir some kind of bafflement. Even in the dimmed light of a bar Danica could see a gentle shift in his skin color. Maybe he had his own inner storm to deal with. ” I think I did have my share of sleepless nights.” The woman responded with a sheepish smile, not betraying if it was a truth or an exaggerated compliment.

”And what if I do. Broca would kill you if he found out.” Danica said, pressing her lips against the Firrerreo's neck. They were playing with fire as the mercenary could come in any moment. Maybe the killing part was a slight exaggeration but surely Nieraan would get in hell of troubles with him and from what the woman knew about the assassin, one of them could get hurt in the process. Though the thrill of danger was always something she would seek. ”Throwing fruits may be fatal this time around.” The girl added, playing with a streak of his unruly hair.

Slender finger slipped gently, almost lovingly to the man's face and mouth when he flashed a tip of his canine in a small smile. She pressed gently against it but a sudden pang of pain caused the wondering hand to retreat hastily. ”Ow...Sharp.” Danica complained, sucking a droplet of blood that flowered at her fingertip.

It brought her back from the strange, hazy moment filled with mind numbing desire. She was so foolish...But then Nieraan said something that made her heart to skip a beat. ”You did...huh?” The woman asked with growing sadness. ”Have you come here for money? Or for me?” Danica finally said moving away slightly, as if scared of the answer.

A well polished and expensive droid strolled over to the pair, praising all sorts of drinks. Each of them ridiculously priced. Absentmindedly Danica pressed a haptic keyboard to chose the most luxurious set of beverages, should be enough to get her numb if she didn't like the answer. ”Do you want something?” She asked, still unpleasantly tensed.

[Rugs]

"I think I did have my share of sleepless nights.” Danica's smile was coy, not telling Nieraan if she was toying with him or telling the truth.

"Doesn't sound all that different than last time I saw you then," Nieraan said quickly, almost surprised at the lightness and wryness of his voice. An honest joke--not biting sarcasm or a cutting tease. It felt so different to him.

”And what if I do. Broca would kill you if he found out.”

Nieraan snorted loudly as Danica pressed a kiss into his neck. His firm body hardened as he grew tense for a moment, until he remembered he was still holding Danica and made himself relax.

"That oaf lifts a finger against me and I'll cut his head off and stuff it up his own ass before he knows what hit him."

A dark threat, no doubt, but it was a true one. Nieraan cared little for what Broca thought about himself; the truth was that the big man was beneath him, and if it came down to it, he would learn so. Painfully.

”Throwing fruits may be fatal this time around.” Danica continued, playing with a lock of his hair. Nieraan chuckled softly. He felt a bit a pressure against one of his teeth, of all things. It quickly withdrew as Danica voiced displeasure upon learning that his canines were indeed sharp.

Quit sharp.

He looked at her, one brow cocked quizzically and an amused little smile on his face. He shook his head gently, chuckling to himself.

”You did...huh? Have you come here for money? Or for me?”

Nieraan's brow furrowed slightly, and he looked away from her, sighing. What had he come for? The promise of credits was alluring, but he didn't have as much need for money as he did before he joined the Sith. All throughout the long trip through hyperspace, he'd insisted with himself that it was just a job, nothing more.

Yet even so...

"Would it be wrong if I said both?" He looked back to Danica, feeling unsure of himself. This wasn't an area of his expertise; he couldn't just bludgeon her to death or cut her from head to groin if she rejected his reasoning.

Well, he could, but the thought didn't sit well in his stomach.

"But..." Nieraan sighed, biting down a bit of annoyance he saw some stupid droid approaching, interrupting their moment.

The droid arrived, showing all sorts of ludicrously-expensive drinks. Nieraan didn't even recognize most of them.

”Do you want something?”

Nieraan looked at Danica, who was looking at him and slightly tensed beneath his hold. "Uhhh..." He looked back to the drinks, feeling like the street urchin he was in the presence of nobility. "I... I'll just take whatever you're getting..."

The droid took the order, set their drinks on the table, and went on to find the next patrons in need of its services.

"But like I was going to say, before that stupid thing got in the way..." Nieraan slid Danica her drink and picked up his own. The Firrerreo looked at her, sincerity on his youthful face. "I probably would've come even if it wasn't a job?"

Another question remained in his mind, though. Was the attraction he felt because he truly liked her, or was it just a physical longing, born from memories of the night together, when he'd explored her being in its entirety?

Nieraan couldn't say he knew the answer.

"What about you? Why did you call me back, out of all the mercenaries you could've hired..."

[Poludnica]

Huffing indignantly, Danica stiffened in the Firrerreo's embrace. ” Why do you chose to flirt so closely with death? He can hurt you.” She asked aloofly but this time it was clear part of some social game that may or may not be lost on the assassin. Green eyes slid appraisingly over the man, as if seeing him for the first time. Nibbling delicately at her lower lip, her gaze wandered in a southerly direction and blush painted normally fair cheeks. It was hard to hide the fact she found this cockiness of his attractive; the way he was so sure of himself to the point of being foolish. A daredevil. Danica couldn't decide what was more appealing – his looks or never ending layers of confidence.

Pain in the fingertip ebbed away when her ears caught a soft chuckle then heavy sigh. He didn't like the question and Danica didn't blame him. She wouldn't like it either. Verdant gaze fixed on Nieraan's face. He looked like a teenager, a teenager absolutely lost in a situation that had anything to do with killing. It was both cute and uncanny. Most men she had met through her entire life, be it her father's friends or fellow students – sons of wealthy human parents – were suave, had their way with words. A way this poorly educated mercenary didn't have but it was...”You are adorable.” Danica chuckled, leaving up to his interpretation if it was a sarcasm or a genuine compliment. It felt almost bad to use such weapon against someone so defenseless but Danica needed a little payback for the upper hand he had constantly gotten back on Naboo.

His first answer was not what she was waiting for. It was safe and not true. There had to be something he wanted more. ”Are you afraid of being wrong?” Danica asked with a small hint of irritation brewing under surface. Before any argument could escalate the robot appeared, for Nieraan's sake.

”Take what I am taking?” It was even more clear now how out of his element Nieraan was. It suddenly made her curious what was his backstory. An orphan? Son of poor laborers? Former slave? Former Jedi? It struck Danica how little did she know about the man that had shared a proverbial sheets with her. Somehow it wasn't a comfortable thought. ”Alright...” The woman chose a name written in both Huttese and High Galactic but not Basic. A good way to sift your clientele a method few Livco restaurants used.

”Two Pink Damsels right away.” The droid chirped and pulled away with a familiar clattering noise. Danica looked at the assassin with a mixture of expectation and nervousness. ”You were saying?” Absentmindedly she began to nibble on a table's cloth, trying to do something with trembling hands. A short sigh escaped her when the Firrerreo admitted to his true feelings. Or at least true motivation. Another question bubbled in the back of the girl's mind – was the physical longing had brought him here or something more? To be fair, both of those possibilities were scary in their own right. Her eyes raise to meet Nieraan's sun touched irises. The expression on his face was genuine, making him look even younger. Danica didn't comment his words in any way, just pressed a warm kiss to the man's moist lips. She licked few droplets of the girly. ”Mhmm,sweet.” The woman said with a smile.

”I had many mercenaries I could hire but no one who would be on my side. Not when my father's men were calling the shots.” She responded truthfully but it wasn't of course the whole story. ”And I wanted to see you.” Danica added, looking away as if wanting to hide her true feelings – a sudden longing, emotional attachment that began to outgrow simple physicality. It was frightening.

Quickly, she downed the drink in one gulp, trying to calm down. ”I don't even know you. Who are you? What's your real name? Where were you born? Simple things.” A sudden outburst ended with Danica breaking into quiet tears that welled in her eyes.. ”How can you care about a person you don't know?” The girl sniffed softly. Despite her words, filled with bitter accusations the woman's body language was something opposite. She clung to the assassin's muscled, angular form, curling on his shoulder and chest.

”So who are you? Nieraan or Aurelius?” Danica whispered.

[Rugs]

”Two Pink Damsels right away.”

Nieraan lifted a brow. "Pink Damsels?"

Maybe I should've picked my own drink instead. But it was too late. The drinks were dispensed and the droid went away, leaving him with the drink that'd been chosen for him. At least he wasn't paying for it.

Once he'd made his answer, he looked at Danica, eyeing here for a sign of reaction. Her green eyes found his, and she began to lean in toward him. Her lips, warm and moist and full, pressed against his. They were sweet, tasting faintly of her drink. For a moment, he was reminded of Naboo. A tinge of surprise rippled through him, followed by a warm satisfaction, with touches of something else. Attraction. Quiet threats of arousal.

Somehow, he doubted that the bar was the best place for that.

"Careful," he muttered with a wry step in his voice, "you keep playing with me and I might take you like I did on Naboo..."

Whether that was a warning or invitation, he didn't say. He surely didn't want her to stop, though.

”I had many mercenaries I could hire but no one who would be on my side. Not when my father's men were calling the shots.”

”And I wanted to see you.”

Nieraan's brow knitted as he stared at the table, looking his untouched drink. The aroma, light and sweet, teased his nostrils. "You wanted loyalty... How could you know I would stay loyal to you?" His voice was quiet, soft. He didn't know if he even really wanted her to answer the question.

And you wanted to see me... Wanted to? Did she mean that? No one ever meant that for him, not in the way Danica was saying it. She made him feel as young as he looked, and uncomfortably aware of how undeveloped aspects of his social knowledge was.

Thankfully, Danica didn't answer his question, but went through another one of the sudden changes he was starting to get accustomed to. She asked him pointed questions, some of which he couldn't--wouldn't--answer. She didn't need to know he was a street rat, didn't need to know about the life he'd lived. But there was a certain bone he could throw her.

”So who are you? Nieraan or Aurelius?” she asked. Despite the pointedness of her voice, she clung to him, head leaning against the front of his firm shoulder and part of his chest.

Nieraan chuckled softly, fingers playing lightly in the ends of her raven hair. He kissed her forehead briefly. "Nieraan," he whispered to her.

[Poludnica]

A hot, crimson flush crept up the skin of the woman's cheek at the salacious, teasing threat. ”We could argue who have taken who.” She purred, seemingly not noticing a wry note that rang in Nieraan's voice. Her eyes flickered around; to her displeasure there were people inside the bar, some even openly stared at the couple. Unfortunately they couldn't check whose statement was more true this time around, though for a briefest of moments her attention swept toward the restrooms and a devilish smile graced her lips, even if for a heartbeat. The man had intoxicating influence on her; she couldn't remember something like this in a while. Long while.

By this point Danica even stopped caring about hiding it from him, especially if he didn't hide it either. It was obvious his powers let Nieraan to read such things but in front of others appearances had to be kept which immediately made the girl to glance at the doors. No one was there.

The desire didn't vanish – lingering under the surface - even when the atmosphere grew from a lighthearted flirt to other, much different matters. She caught him staring at the drink, not able to say if he was unhappy with the pink, sweet liquor or something else. Her own brows furrowed at the assassin's question. ”I couldn't.” Danica replied curtly, turning away. Flush of embarrassment stung at her cheeks upon the realization of how desperate her actions had been.

His warm breath whisked her skin when Nieraan leaned to kiss her on the forehead. The strength of reaction to such small contact surprised even Danica when she felt a shudder of longing rolling through her body. 'I thought so.” The girl sighed, alcohol calming raging emotions down a bit but there was still unpleasant feeling of being left with little answers, like a play thing you didn't deem important enough to give simple details.

Bubbles of anger swelled in her stomach, causing her to move away from Nieraan, sliding to nearly the other end of a couch. With shaking hand she gestured at the droid which drive over with a metallic noise. Danica ordered another round, this time getting the strongest one there was for the assassin. The activity gave her a moment to gather thoughts scattered by a searing pangs of irritation. ”Nieraan who? Is it too much after what happened to ask for few simple answers?” She said with hurt expression and obvious annoyance.

It didn't really cross her mind the man could be ashamed of his background in any way, to feel inadequate or simply didn't want to remember. Danica took a moment before parting her lips to speak. ”I was born on Coruscant twenty seven years ago, my father built a large entertainment business there. I studied art and cultural anthropology. My job focuses around searching and acquiring new business ventures for Livco. “ The woman exhaled slowly. ”See, not so difficult.” She added with a huff of irritation.

The more her frustration with Nieraan grew the more her body reacted to his presence with unwarranted desire and arousal. It only caused most discrepancy between behavior and words. Not sure to decide if to slap the man or kiss him, Danica reached to swallow another drink.

[Rugs]

"We could argue," Nieraan muttered, eyes dangerous and mischievous. "I might even give you the first time. But the second, third... fourth..." A chuckle came from down in his throat, warm and earthy. There was a youthful deviance to the way he looked down at her with a gently wicked grin on his face, or the way his hand fell from Danica's hair to her side--in the way his teasingly gripped at her backside.

"But you can think what you want, of course..."

Nieraan laughed now, quietly so he didn't draw more attention to them, but it was a laugh; more than the reserved chuckles he'd been giving so far. He liked teasing the woman, and not in the dark, malicious ways he often enjoyed teased his peers among the Sith. There was something more pure about it when he messed with her. Why, Nieraan didn't know himself, but it was better than some of the other things he had to deal with.

Suddenly, she moved away from him; him giving his name apparently wasn't enough.

”Nieraan who? Is it too much after what happened to ask for few simple answers?”

Yes, teasing her was much more enjoyable than having to deal with this. Nieraan bit back a growl of frustration. Make up your mind, woman! You start building a mood and then you tear it away.

No, not angry this time. He was starting to see how she worked, constantly shifting between hot and cold. If he could just work with it...

”I was born on Coruscant twenty seven years ago, my father built a large entertainment business there. I studied art and cultural anthropology. My job focuses around searching and acquiring new business ventures for Livco. See, not so difficult.”

For a moment, Nieraan simply looked at Danica, drink forgotten, not caring about the other nosy patrons that were looking at them. His gaze went distant. In his mind's eye, he was on Metellos again, a boy of fifteen, trying to fight off a mother that should've a master in the Jedi Order.

Reality came quickly back to him, as quickly as it left. Surely no more than a heartbeat or two had gone by. 'Is it so hard?' he could hear Danica thinking as she looked expectantly at him.

Yes.

The past was a thing Nieraan loathed. And his upbringing wasn't something she needed to know. She was rich; his youth had been a relatively poor one.

He had to play the question away, make her forget.

"Listen..." the Firrerreo started, scooting back over to her. "That's not important. And besides, you wouldn't want to ruin the air of mystery, would you?" He managed to smile at her, showing the sharp teeth that fascinated her so, but he didn't know how much he felt it.

Truthful or no, there was one thing he knew he could count on around her. One emotion that he didn't have to feign. He pulled her back to him gently with an arm around her slim shoulders, guided one of her hands to his chest as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Let's not worry about that. We've got some time before we have to go right?" He kissed her again, briefly. His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Let's go find somewhere alone. Where we don't have to worry about people watching us..."

[Poludnica]

((Wrote it after work >.> may suck a bit...))

"Blasted Firrerreo. Don't try to tease me. I'm very much on edge!" Danica yelped feeling Nieeran's hand sliding to her side. She could feel the memories of their night together awakening under the man's touch. When the woman looked up smile graced her lips – Nieraan's features were expressing this playful mischievousness but it was not what had caused her reaction. It was the laugh – pure and genuine. A laugh of an impish boy rather than a guarded killer. ”I think you just can't admit defeat.” The girl said with a confident, cocky grin.

The sudden shift in the woman's mood seemed to annoy the Firerreo and Danica would notice it if not self-absorbed with her own irritation. Venomous remark hung at the tip of her tongue when only silence met the confession she had made. The woman turned to look at the man and her features shifted into a mild surprise. Typical brashness was gone from Nieraan's expression, replaced by what Danica read as a mixture of uneasiness and...was it fear?

It made her realize one thing – the the Firrerreo's past was not pleasant, not even close. Not something he was proud of. A fickle thought touched a surface of Danica's mind – that he was ashamed. The cocksure, smartass warrior was afraid to admit he couldn't match her upbringing in the slightest. The feeling strengthen when the man moved closer with unsure smile on his lips, even sharp canines couldn't hide the nervousness in it. Another emotion stirred in the woman, turning the tide yet again. A rare sensation she was not used to – guilt.

Before the woman could respond he closed her lips with a kiss. Desire surged through the girls body, pushing all the doubts away. She could feel his heart beating – strongly and surely- under her fingers. The immediate intoxication with growing longing left her short of breath. Danica cursed her treacherous body for so easily giving up to this Firrerreo. ”I don't care if you were a poor scamp from slums.” The girl breathed softly and run her sylphlike digits along his two tone, unruly mane.

A devilish mood evinces in her once more when Nieraan proposed to find someplace more comfortable. ”Maybe if I will be in a gracious mood, you could visit me in my quarters?” She whispered and nibbled on his ear, letting her hand to move down to pull on the man's belt.

Horrible, club music began to seep from speakers which oddly enough, caused the woman to smile puckishly. ”But first, you will need to impress me.” She said and gently pulled Nieraan to come with her, toward an empty dancefloor, seemingly dropping the topic for now. ”Maybe I can at least know how old are you, so I am not accused of fishing for my dates in a kindergarten.” Danica said, finishing her drink.

[Rugs]

”I don't care if you were a poor scamp from slums,” Danica said breathily as her fingers began tangling themselves in Nieraan's hair. The Firrerreo appreciated her statement on a certain level, regardless of how true it was, but it wasn't just his poor upbringing that he wanted to leave behind.

Kamirille was in the past. Maybe if the woman had done him a favor for once in his life and stayed where she belonged, he could open up about things that had been. But now Kamirille--unsatisfied with haunting his past--walked the present.

There were too many painful memories, too much weakness in the present. It was something he had to keep to himself.

Nieraan didn't say anything, didn't utter a word in protest to her continued prodding. He just pushed with his own desires, lips pressed to Danica's. He could feel her emotions changing in the aura around her, felt desire coursing through her as she teased him wickedly and put a hand to his belt. A temptation, wholly inappropriate for public, arose in Nieraan's mind to guide her hand lower, but she was moving to different plans before he could act on it.

"Impress you?" Nieraan asked, voice just above a gentle whisper. "I thought I already did that... Several times." Danica scooched over him and got up, pulling on his arm to follow.

Nieraan went after her, though he was reticent to leave behind the bag with his armor and clothes in it. But there wasn't anything else to do, at least not yet.

So he followed along, realizing that she was leading him to a dancing floor, of all things. His brow knit and he frowned slightly. Dancing was not what he'd had in mind.

Dancing was not something that Nieraan Onin did.

Either Danica didn't know or didn't care. Or maybe it was revenge for going so long on Naboo. Not my fault I have stamina. Nieraan groaned under his breath.

”Maybe I can at least know how old are you, so I am not accused of fishing for my dates in a kindergarten.”

For a moment Nieraan eyed the woman. He was reasonably confident that he was older than she was. As far as she could tell, he was still a boy: nineteen, maybe twenty years old.

It would be easy to lie; easy to say he was twenty one or twenty two. There wasn't any reason she had to doubt him, and his body certainly wouldn't bely the fact.

But why hide so much from her? He'd barely told her her name, not whispered a word about his past, and now he reconsidered even his age. Trust is hard to come by. For good reason.

His time with the Sith hadn't helped easy his mistrustful ways.

"Guess," Nieraan said suddenly, smirking a little at her. He turned his head one way, then the other, letting the light hit his silver skin in different ways. He held on from answering for a few moments--a few moments that stretched on almost to the point of becoming uncomfortable.

"Thirty-two." The Firrerreo took one of Danica's hands in his own and put a hand on her side. "My people aren't as short-lived as a Human, but still old enough to be out of kindergarten."

[Poludnica]

Yes, she could leave it like that for now. His past. It was a challenge after all, to make him open up. Now when Danica understood it was not a sign of rejection but maybe more shame and fear things got easier. One brick at a time - a question from time to time, when the Firrerreo would be more inclined to let go small bits of information. Nieraan was right about it though- certainly added to his exotic appeal. Danica was not entirely honest with him either, only giving bare bones of dry facts without any real meaning. He still didn't know who Cassius really had been – the company being a mere smokescreen for true atrocities of a human supremacists. For a second Danica wondered if it was unfair, to put the Firrerreo in such danger but...

”We both have secrets to guard, it seems.” The woman said with a cryptic smile, ending the topic for now. The night was young and the ship would take at least three more hours to refuel. Plenty of time to get some answers, though the assassin still had no idea what kind of work he was about to take. If nothing else had made painfully obvious the job was something secondary for both of them, this little fact certainly did. ”You think I can be so easily wooed?” She responded with mocked aloofness.

The assassin followed her, but his face betrayed a surprise or even a mild displeasure with how the things turned out. Impatient boy... Danica smiled devilishly, enjoying every minute of teasing the Firrerreo. That was rather easy to predict where the night would lead but playing with a bit of doubt was always a fun pastime. At least for her...

They stepped on the dancefloor; Danica's raven hair caught the lights from above when she looked up to meet Nieraan's sun-flared gaze. ”Twelve?” She arched her dark eyebrow daintily, betraying slight irritation. The man had noticed it or maybe decided there were enough mysteries for one night; after long moment of tensed silence he admitted to being in fact older whole five years. Danica didn't like the answer. ”You don't look your age.” She just said, hiding little pangs of anger. ”And certainly you don't behave it.” The girl added, escaping with her hand and placing it at the back of the man's neck. Her father hated long lived races, Falleen, Firrerro, Morellians, even Epicanthix. Parasites Cassius had liked to call them. Danica had no such attitude but the thought of dying when Nieraan was still a young adult was strangely unpleasant, causing a sudden wave of sadness. Brief, silly idea. There was no future for them...Sometimes Danica was wondering if there was a future for her alone.

For a moment, the girl rested her head on the Firrerreo's chest, trying to stuff down the moment of weakness. ”Hard to believe you are the older one here.” The young woman chuckled feeling his hand coming to rest on her waist. Her verdant eyes flickered with amusement when she took a step back and climbed on her toes in a form of a classical dance. With a fluid movement, the Danica freed herself from Nieraan's embrace and began to gracefully twist and turn. Her long dress swished and swayed along with the beat of the music.

With few more pirouettes, Danica returned to her lover's side. The worry and sadness were gone now, replaced by brilliant joy dancing was giving her. She laughed playfully, trying to wrap her arms around the Firrerreo to kiss him. ”I think I forgot to mention I am a professional dancer.” Amused whisper left her lips as mischievious smile graced them. ”I can't wait to see what my kindergärtner can do on a dance floor.” A small crowd began to gather around them, noticing a strange display of an ancient human dance that could be rarely seen outside the Core Worlds.

[Rugs]

”You don't look your age. And certainly you don't behave it."

Feigned hurt worked across Nieraan's face. "Now that's not very nice," he muttered, sounding wounded even if the subtle amusement creeping into his features betrayed his tone. "But you haven't complained about either one.

"Much."

”Hard to believe you are the older one here.”

Nieraan shrugged slightly as Danica tenderly laid her head against his chest. Was it? Maybe from looks alone, but he didn't feel that it was odd. It's just how things were.

Something in Danica's presence shifted in the way that he'd come to recognize as another one of the changes that often came to her. He looked down to see that she was looking up from his chest, eyes glinting with amusement. Nieraan's brow knit gently. What's she up to this time?

Seemingly on a whim, Danica wriggled free of his grip and began to dance. She turned swayed and spun gracefully, like water given life. Nieraan stared quietly, feeling like he was seeing something from a holovid. But it wasn't some shallow, empty recording of professionals he would never know; this woman was his, one he'd made love to only few weeks ago.

And yet, he'd never had a clue.

Once satisfied with her dancing, Danica returned to Nieraan. She put her arms around him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Her aura in the Force was nearly aglow with exhilaration.

”I think I forgot to mention I am a professional dancer,” she said coyly. Nieraan snorted a laugh.

"Just when you think you know someone..."

A part of Nieraan briefly hoped that this was all that Danica had pulled him to the dance floor for: to show him what she could do, to have him watch her slender form swayed and dipped and spun with the grace of the wind. To further tickle his fancy for her and tease the desire hanging between them.

Yet as he looked at the patrons gathering around with their drinks and friends, as he felt the expectation and anticipation for something more that they all breathed into the Force, Nieraan knew that he couldn't get away so easily.

”I can't wait to see what my kindergartner can do on a dance floor.”

Nieraan huffed softly. His yellow eyes flicked this way, then that, while his mind wheeled for a way to get out of the situation. It wasn't that he was afraid of being watched.

It was just that Nieraan Onin did not dance.

The closest thing he knew to dancing was fighting, and while it was said that watching two saber-wielders duel could look like a dance, he wasn't sure...

"Your kindergartner doesn't dance," he answered quietly. He hastily grabbed Danica's left hand again and put his left on her side. He began to sway gently, putting on a mockery of some dance that seemed classical to him while he tried to buy more time.

"There's only a few dances I know, Danica. And though I'm good at them, don't think they want to see them."

Nieraan was aware of the double entendre, but unconcerned. He wanted out of the situation. Somehow.

[Poludnica]

A single-noted, but nevertheless lyrical, laugh slipped past the woman's lips at Nieraan's words. ”Maybe if I complained, you would try harder.” There was this strange dualism about him. The visage of a young man barely into his adulthood but a gaze of someone who had seen countless decades. The truth was somewhere in the middle, thought it made the woman wonder what or who shaped Nieraan into this image.

All these doubts faded once she lost herself in dancing. But one thing didn't escape the girl – it was the way Nieraan had looked at her. For such hungry, awestruck gazes Danica loved it so. Radiating with untainted joy she let herself to sink in the man's arms without any trick up her sleeve. This time. ”The things you still have to learn about me...” She whispered, moving closer; this time not pushing away the Firrerreo's hand away.

With growing amusement the girl watched Nieraan's sunglow orbs to move from one side to other, betraying his unsure attitude toward the dancing. His words only confirmed what the girl already suspected. The Firrerreo still tried to pretend some strange kind of move that in the assassin's mind was labeled as 'dance'. Another soft chuckle escaped her, especially after not very subtle innuendo.

”I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Aurelius.” Danica feigned a scoff and put her hand on the man's shoulder. Slowly, the girl began to lead him around the dance floor. ”Follow me, when I take a step back, you take a step forward.” She smiled, feeling Nieraan's warmth. It reminded her of the night on Naboo and the sensation of golden hued skin pressed to her own. Pleasurable shudder climbed up the girl's spine, demanding her to kiss him again, nearly forgetting they were not alone. ”It feels so good.” Danica buried her face in the Firrerreo's shoulder, breathing in familiar scent.

A sense of tranquility washed over her; a reassurance it was something amazing, something she shouldn't let go. ”Maybe. Maybe you and I...Could b....” Danica stopped, the last word cut short when the girl gasped. A big, hulking figure entered the club. Broca. Flashed in her mind like a warning sign. The young woman nearly tore herself from the Firrerreo, hitting her back against the bar's wall. If he have seen... Fear was now clearly painted on her delicate features.

” I told you to wait outside.” She said but it sounded very weak, more like a whimper than an order. Broca didn't even lift a finger, but had this self-satisfactory grin plastered all over his thin lips. Of course he had suspected what was going on but this time he had no order to kill the Firrerreo offender. At least no direct order. Danica's reaction though was a hightlight of his day so far. ”I got lonely.” The soldier said, pushing himself in between the alien and the girl, seemingly ignoring the assassin.

A message from Devon, he wants to ask you about your new hireling. Lets get back to the ship.” He added, gesturing at the doors.

[Rugs]

”Follow me, when I take a step back, you take a step forward.”

Hoped to much to think she'd just let us leave. Though annoyed at his predicament, Nieraan did as Danica instructed. She moved back. He stepped forward. She led. He followed. The short cycle--a step from her followed by his own--continued and began to carry itself on.

Just like that, Nieraan was dancing. Not fighting or playing at dancing from what he'd seen on holovids. Actually dancing.

It was almost enough to make the Sith feel cultured.

Almost.

He felt pleasure radiating from Danica's being. Even her face seemed to be aglow with her content. Nieraan never noticed how seeing her happy made him feel a little better. Not that he'd ever tell a soul; he was a Sith, and things weren't supposed to be that way. Connection to her was just a weakness that could be used against him.

On they danced, and Nieraan's wary glances at the crowd came less frequently. His concern for the onlookers waned as much of his focus centered on the woman dancing with him.

He wasn't sure what the thought of it all. On Naboo, she'd just been a nice body and a pretty face. Entertaining, for sure, but sex had been the end goal, and he'd been satisfied. Now here she was again, and Nieraan was beginning to worry his attraction to her might extend beyond carnal desires...

She slowed their dancing and came up on her toes to plant another kiss on his lips. Nieraan gladly accepted, his hold of her turning into a more of a moving, one-armed hug than proper dancing posture, but he didn't care.

Apparently, neither did she.

”Maybe. Maybe you and I...Could b...."

"Could what?" Nieraan felt Danica tense in his arms and looked down at her. She was petrified, looking wide-eyed at something behind him. "Dani-"

She tore herself from his grasp and backed away. The joy in her presence melted away, quickly replaced by an icy fear.

Nieraan turned around to see the big brute of a man from outside grinning like a drunken fool as he approached them. He bit back an annoyed growl.

Danica protested, but Broca didn't seem to care. Without a care for who Nieraan was or what he could do, he put himself between the Firrerreo and the woman, and proceeded to ignore Nieraan wholly.

That was a slight Nieraan wouldn't be ignoring.

With little warning, Nieraan shifted his weight forward and shoved Broca roughly. Not hard enough to knock the old fool over, but surely enough to stagger him out of the way and get a point across. "You better pay attention to your betters, you ploughin' idiot."

He snorted loudly. His moment with Danica was ruined, and now he had the big man to deal with.

Don't think I won't kill you in a heartbeat.