I hate Mandalorians, I do, I do...
Happy Birthday
ewanspotter!! Chocolate Ewans & Jensens (yes, multiples!) to you!
And because it came to me as I was trying to sleep last night, a J/J mini-fic set after Revelation:
“Jag?”
He looks up from the stack of datapads he’s poring over, but doesn’t look surprised to see her. Some feat, Jaina thinks, since as far as everyone knows she’s still on Mandalore. He smiles slightly,
“Jaina, come in. Will you be here long?”
“Not as long as I’d like,” her face is grim but accepting. She’ll be here just long enough to gear up before going after her twin; she’s not happy about it, but she’s going to do it anyway.
“Well then you should make the most of it,” his tone is light, but obviously forced, “put your feet up, I’ll get some brandy.”
“Actually,” she retorts, and he raises an eyebrow at the specter of Han Solo’s daughter refusing a glass of good Corellian brandy, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“To me? All right,” he sits back down, eyes her steadily and waits for her to start.
“I wanted…I want to say…,” she rolls her eyes at her own hesitation, finally blurts it out: “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Jag leans back, looking smug,
“I believe that’s my line.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
They eye each other across the table for a long moment, and he finally caves,
“All right…why is it that I’m not to ‘do anything stupid’?”
“Because you want to, and badly.”
“Again, I believe you have us confused-“
“Jag,” her eyes are pleading, and he wonders briefly just what that means, “You think you’ve got nothing left, and you’re looking to throw your life away. Like you almost did at Alema’s. I won’t let it happen.”
It’s as though a mask falls over his features, obscuring whatever he might be feeling,
“More Jedi-“
“No,” she says, and surprises them both by keeping her voice steady rather than shouting it, “It’s not a Jedi thing. I’m not…eavesdropping on your thoughts or anything. I just…recognize the look.”
He frowns, but doesn’t challenge her again. She leans heavily against the table, “During the Vong War, before Borealis…that was me. I’d lost my brothers, I’d lost my way, and I was waiting to die.”
He regards her silently, unable or unwilling to acknowledge her sudden insight.
“You’re not alone,” she says finally, “Things haven’t turned out like you planned, and I’m very sorry for my part in that, but…you’re still young. You’ve got a long life ahead of you-if you don’t ‘do anything stupid’.”
“Says the woman about to take on her galaxy-dominating Sith Lord brother in a one-on-one, no-holds-barred duel to the death,” Jag quips, and she has to smile at that. She takes a step towards him, and he rises, “Thank you for your advice.”
“Thank you for yours,” she replies, and starts to turn, “I should-“
“Jaina.”
She turns back, and suddenly he’s holding her very close, and they’re kissing like they’re teenagers again. She melts against him, her arms around his neck, his hands in her hair. After a long, breathless moment he pulls back slightly,
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
She kisses him good-bye, and hopes it won’t be the last time.
ewanspotter!! Chocolate Ewans & Jensens (yes, multiples!) to you!
And because it came to me as I was trying to sleep last night, a J/J mini-fic set after Revelation:
“Jag?”
He looks up from the stack of datapads he’s poring over, but doesn’t look surprised to see her. Some feat, Jaina thinks, since as far as everyone knows she’s still on Mandalore. He smiles slightly,
“Jaina, come in. Will you be here long?”
“Not as long as I’d like,” her face is grim but accepting. She’ll be here just long enough to gear up before going after her twin; she’s not happy about it, but she’s going to do it anyway.
“Well then you should make the most of it,” his tone is light, but obviously forced, “put your feet up, I’ll get some brandy.”
“Actually,” she retorts, and he raises an eyebrow at the specter of Han Solo’s daughter refusing a glass of good Corellian brandy, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“To me? All right,” he sits back down, eyes her steadily and waits for her to start.
“I wanted…I want to say…,” she rolls her eyes at her own hesitation, finally blurts it out: “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Jag leans back, looking smug,
“I believe that’s my line.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
They eye each other across the table for a long moment, and he finally caves,
“All right…why is it that I’m not to ‘do anything stupid’?”
“Because you want to, and badly.”
“Again, I believe you have us confused-“
“Jag,” her eyes are pleading, and he wonders briefly just what that means, “You think you’ve got nothing left, and you’re looking to throw your life away. Like you almost did at Alema’s. I won’t let it happen.”
It’s as though a mask falls over his features, obscuring whatever he might be feeling,
“More Jedi-“
“No,” she says, and surprises them both by keeping her voice steady rather than shouting it, “It’s not a Jedi thing. I’m not…eavesdropping on your thoughts or anything. I just…recognize the look.”
He frowns, but doesn’t challenge her again. She leans heavily against the table, “During the Vong War, before Borealis…that was me. I’d lost my brothers, I’d lost my way, and I was waiting to die.”
He regards her silently, unable or unwilling to acknowledge her sudden insight.
“You’re not alone,” she says finally, “Things haven’t turned out like you planned, and I’m very sorry for my part in that, but…you’re still young. You’ve got a long life ahead of you-if you don’t ‘do anything stupid’.”
“Says the woman about to take on her galaxy-dominating Sith Lord brother in a one-on-one, no-holds-barred duel to the death,” Jag quips, and she has to smile at that. She takes a step towards him, and he rises, “Thank you for your advice.”
“Thank you for yours,” she replies, and starts to turn, “I should-“
“Jaina.”
She turns back, and suddenly he’s holding her very close, and they’re kissing like they’re teenagers again. She melts against him, her arms around his neck, his hands in her hair. After a long, breathless moment he pulls back slightly,
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
She kisses him good-bye, and hopes it won’t be the last time.