Slow Dancing

A/N:  Whoo, long time since I updated here!  This time, we have fluffy... uh... fluff!!  This was written for a club challenge on dA entitled "Giving."  We were told to do whatever we wanted with it.  I WAS going to write something horribly angsty and awful before deciding on something sweet.  And this is actually the shortened version of another idea I'd had, but even this was five pages on MS Word.  Heh heh.  And be gentle; it's my first time writing fluff in a while.

Slow Dancing 

     A world of halcyon turquoise waters almost touching clear azure skies, Manaan was certainly peaceful.  Perhaps some visitors found it tempting to give up on work and duty and simply relax like beachgoers with an excess of free time, but Lire Dakaar did not have that option.  For the past handful of weeks, she’d been continuously going, moving, running about.  She barely had any time for rest and even less time to waste on luxuries—luxuries like a hot shower that lasted longer than three-and-a-half minutes.  Her crew was willing to help, certainly, but that rarely lightened her workload.  After all, she was the one who spearheaded missions, led a shore party in search of the Star Maps, haggled with shopkeepers over the price of supplies, made sure there was always enough to eat, tried to keep the supply bins in the cargo hold stocked . . .  The list went on and on!  She had expected help from Bastila, but sometimes it seemed that the young Padawan was more interested in remaining secluded on the Ebon Hawk to prevent notice by the Sith.  On Manaan, however, Lire agreed with her, having seen first-hand the practically overwhelming Sith presence.  The rest of the crew was all too easily affected by the laidback atmosphere of the oceanic world, but Lire said nary a word.  They needed to relax, too, after all.  So she did what she usually did, sometimes even a little more than usual so that they could have a chance to catch their breath after the occasional whirlwinds of activity that they experienced.  Lire just hoped that they enjoyed their relative peace and quiet and didn’t notice that things were getting done even though they weren’t doing them.

     But Carth noticed.  He saw how hard Lire was working to make sure that the rest of them were comfortable.  He saw how she would leave in the morning and spend the entire day out, running errands and earning a few credits here and there.  He knew she wasn’t trying to save the galaxy single-handedly; she was just trying to keep the ship running smoothly!  However, he saw how exhausted she got, how she’d been running almost nonstop since his accident during their first visit to Korriban.  She’d worked almost tirelessly to help him then; now she was working with a seemingly inexhaustible energy supply to make sure that everyone was well-fed and well-rested even if she were neither.  He wanted to do something to get her to rest, too—maybe something just shy of hogtying her to her bunk and forbidding her to move until she got some sleep.  So late one night, when the rest of the crew was sound asleep, he got up and went to find her.

     He found her in the cargo hold, inventorying their supplies.  There, in the dim light of the hold, she looked more exhausted than she had before.  As he approached, he saw her smother a yawn with the back of her hand and rub her forehead with her wrist.  It was after that that she glanced up and noticed him, offering a tiny smile.

     “Hey.”

     “Hey, yourself,” he replied, crossing the threshold into the bay. “How come you’re still up?”

     “Oh, you know how it is,” she sighed. “Stuff needs to be inventoried, I need to see if we’re running low on anything . . .  And you know just how Bastila gets when hygiene products run out, particularly that lotion of hers . . .”

     She exhaled, long and slow, as she turned back to the supply bins.  Carth frowned to himself as he walked up behind her gently squeezing her upper arms before turning her around to face him.  Now that he was close to her, he saw how exhausted she really was.  He knew he certainly wasn’t imagining the dark circles under her eyes . . .  He gave her another squeeze.

     “Lire,” he said, firmly yet kindly, “you need to get some rest.  The galaxy won’t explode if you get some beauty sleep.”

     “But there’s so much to do,” she protested.  Carth hushed her.

     “Beautiful, if Bastila can sleep through the night without worrying, then so can you.  After all, she’s the one with that battle meditation, not to mention the title of ‘Galaxy’s Most Wanted’ on her head.  And if she can sleep like a baby, then there’s no reason you can’t.”

     “Actually, there kind of is,” Lire replied, almost sounding grumpy. “If I don’t get this stuff done, then it’ll never get done.  And do you have any idea how badly this ship will fall apart if things don’t get accomplished?”

     “I know, I know,” Carth told her, trying to calm her down. “It’ll fall to pieces and never be recovered.  But I think it’d fall apart worse if you collapsed on us.  The rest of us have been more relaxed since we got here; as far as I can see, it’s time for you to relax, too.”

     “How?” Lire snorted. “Take a little trip down to the synth-beach and spend the day lying half-naked on the sand?”

     “I was thinking more along the lines of getting more than three or four hours of sleep.”

     Lire was silent for a few minutes, evidently thinking.  She exhaled heavily, and Carth squeezed her arms.

     “If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, then at least go hit the sack so I won’t have to worry about you dropping dead on us.”

     Lire looked up at him before shrugging a shoulder and letting it fall limply back into place as she reached up and patted his arm.

     “You’re stubborn,” she said, “but persuasive.  Dropping dead never seemed like much fun.  But here.”  She shoved the datapad she’d been using for keeping inventory into his hands as she stepped around him.  “You get to finish up.”

     “Fun,” Carth quipped, glancing down at the neat rows of information on the screen.  He turned long enough to see her round the doorway of the cargo hold. “Sleep tight.”

     “And don’t let the space-bugs bite; I know, I know.”

     Then she was gone, leaving Carth staring down at the datapad.  He frowned before tossing it over to the top of a supply bin.  It could wait.  Maybe Lire didn’t think it could, but he did.  After all, he wasn’t fond of inventorying supplies in the middle of the night.

     He went back to the cockpit to try to get some sleep himself, sliding into the pilot’s chair and snuggling down, boots up on the consoles and arms folded over his chest.  He had just tucked his chin into his shoulder and was about to drift off when he heard the leather of the copilot’s seat creak.  He cracked an eye open to see Lire sitting down, wrapped in an extra blanket.

     “Was Bastila snoring again?” he asked, only half-joking.  Lire snorted.

     “Like a log grinder.”  She sighed, tucking the blanket closer around her.  “I just can’t sleep and don’t know why.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t been.”

     “Well, it works like that sometimes,” Carth said. “If you don’t sleep enough, your body ends up learning how to function on less.”

     “So much for getting more than three hours of sleep tonight,” Lire sighed.  She started getting up, still wrapped in that blanket.  “I’m gonna go get some caffa or something.  Maybe Jolee’s got some herbal tea or something that’ll put me out.”

     Carth started to let her go before he turned, gradually sitting up.  Maybe it was just nerves and she just needed to work them out.  Too many kinks, too much stress.

     “Want to go for a walk?” he asked.  Lire paused and blinked.

     “A walk?  Now?”

     “Why not?”

     Lire paused to think about it.  Maybe a walk would do her good.  It would be quiet, peaceful, and Ahto City was mostly inactive for the night.  The crew was asleep, so they wouldn’t need anything, and she really had nothing else to do . . . so she sighed and nodded.

     “All right, a walk.”

     She turned to leave, draping her blanket over the back of the copilot’s chair.  When Carth stood to accompany her, she seemed a little surprised.  He just offered her a smile as he came even with her.

     “May as well join you,” he said.

     “Can’t sleep either or never saw Manaan at night?”

     “Probably a little of both.”

     So they left the Hawk, walking in silence as they strolled through Ahto City.  As Lire had anticipated, it was quiet and peaceful; there was a slightly bluish tint to the atmosphere that came from dim lights shooing heavy shadows away.  They walked through the silent streets, empty from the day’s business, drawing closer to an open, public balcony that overlooked the calm ocean waters.  Lire sighed, walking up to the railing and leaning against it, peering out at the dark ocean that stretched as far as she could see.

     “It’s beautiful here,” she murmured as a sea breeze lightly tugged at her hair. “It’s one of those places you’d stay longer if you didn’t have things to be doing.”

     “Like saving the galaxy,” Carth sighed as he came up to join her. “Some days, I think we’d all be a lot better off if we did more relaxing and less freaking out over the state of affairs.”

     “Wise words from a man who’s done plenty of freaking out,” she observed.  He chuckled and smirked at her.

     “I’m improving.”

     They stood there in silence for a few minutes, the breeze ruffling their hair and clothes.  Lire leaned against her folded arms, kicking one leg out behind her to steady herself as she watched the calmly rippling waves.  Carth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, watching how calm and relaxed she looked there by the ocean.  She really did just need to get away from everything for a while, apparently.  He was about to ask her if she felt better when some gentle, quiet music came on over the city’s intercom as it did throughout the day.  He again looked at her, and the question was out before he could stop it.

     “Do you wanna dance?”

     Lire straightened, turning to look fully at him.  He saw surprise in her blue eyes but just smiled, gently taking her by the waist and pulling her a little closer.  Her eyes widened momentarily as he took her hand in his.

     “It’ll be fun.”

     She didn’t protest.  On the contrary, he thought she melted into his arms as they started gently swaying side-to-side, moving in time to the soft music with the sea as their backdrop.  Lire sighed lightly, gently pressing her head to Carth’s chest as they continued their gentle swaying.  She could hear his heartbeat with her head like that; it was a low thump-thump that was really rather comforting the more that she listened to it.  It was almost as if she could fall asleep right there, between the beat of his heart and the gentle splashing of the waves.  But then she found herself gazing up into his soft brown eyes only to find that he was watching her.

     “So why are we out here again?” she asked as they kept up their quiet dancing, turning slowly and swaying again. “Did you suggest going for a walk to help me sleep or to sneak me away for a romantic rendezvous?”

     “You want a romantic rendezvous?” Carth asked with a chuckle, an almost mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Can do.”

     He took her chin in his hand, tilting her face toward him.  Her eyes fluttered closed expectantly, dark lashes bold against her fair cheeks.  He started leaning toward her, breath warm on her face.  When their lips met, he was a little surprised to feel her kiss him as readily as she did.  He almost wanted to pull back, to stop, in case he did something later that ruined this moment and broke her heart.  But he didn’t, instead holding her closer, lacing his fingers through her hair.  Tonight, he didn’t mind giving her this.