Fic: "If You Call" (sequel to "Fast as I Can"; Jaina/Zekk, AU; 1/?)
If You Call
by moonlightrick
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all planets, systems, governments, recognizable characters, etc. I own the plot, a few OC’s, and my characters’ therapy bill. I’m not making any money off of this.
Summary: And if you call, I will answer / And if you fall, I’ll pick you up / And if you court this disaster / I’ll point you home. Six months after their argument, Zekk runs into Jaina again-in the middle of one of her missions.
Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Fast as I Can. Title and summary lyrics come from “Call and Answer” by Barenaked Ladies.
Zekk knew that Jaina visited Peckhum; the old spacer never hid that information-in fact, Peckhum made a point of sharing it. Zekk usually cut Peckhum off before he had even started in on it. Zekk could be relatively certain that Jaina was not engaged; but the image of her temper was much more clear.
In six months, they hadn’t spoken a word. Zekk’s new job co-piloting the Grey Hawk consumed his time, even when they returned to Coruscant. He had never worked as hard in his life, let alone enjoyed his stable employment. He had thrown himself into learning everything he could about ship engines and piloting. Raven Lee and her crew seemed amused by his fervour but were generally helpful, so long as he kept his eyes off the secret compartments. They had been together too long to trust an outsider. Zekk thought he was winning them over, though; the captain liked him, at least.
If he missed more than just Peckhum when he was flying through the Outer Rim, Zekk worked harder to stop dwelling on it. The Outer Rim tabloids and news had other targets than the daughter of New Republic heroes, and only Mique was bent enough to share copies of the Coruscant ones. Zekk was doing very well forgetting about his friend, he thought, right up until Jaina made things difficult again.
x-x-x
Tattooine was always a trouble spot, and not just because his fellow crewmembers had gotten on the wrong side of the Hutts. Scooti, their overly young mechanic, invariably found the worst bar in Mos Eisley-not to mention any other city they docked in-and the stupidest or meanest men to fight over her. With the captain and her first mate always taking care of business on the planet, Zekk’s duties usually expanded to keeping an eye on the unwitting trouble magnet. With any luck, he managed to keep Scooti out of jail, though rarely off the bar’s banned list.
“Well, I’m off,” she told the crew as soon as they had landed. She knew enough, at least, to give warning now. “There’s this cantina I heard tell of, the Dustbowl, and-”
“Why don’t I come along, then,” Zekk interrupted. The places she had heard tell of were always the worst.
Hrul, the Hawk’s enormous first mate, growled something-either a warning or a threat. Zekk might not know Hrul’s species, but Hrul’s Scooti-sized soft spot hadn’t gone unnoticed since his first week on the Hawk.
“We’ll even try to keep you out of jail this time,” Zekk added, rolling his eyes.
“I just want a drink,” Scooti protested.
“And I am completely okay with that plan,” Zekk agreed. “But I’m bringing my blaster anyway.”
x-x-x
Despite Zekk’s best intentions, Scooti soon darted out of his immediate line of visiond, and he only caught glimpses of her through the night when she returned to the bar for drinks. There was a particularly dense mass in the crowded bar, off in the shadows, and that would be his first target if things went sour. Until then, Zekk found himself a drink and a table on the catwalk.
He had a reasonable view of the cantina, but the table’s location held him slightly apart from the mass of beings. Growing up a Coruscanti orphan had given him a sense of when-and around whom-he should stay off the radar, and this place gave off unmistakable warnings. Thankful for the wall at his back, and the not-very-well-hidden exit nearby, Zekk’s senses were overattentive; he kept his right hand near his blaster holster.
Zekk glanced to where he had last seen Scooti, and on his way back spotted her gleefully trying to drink a Wookiee under the table. Although satisfied that she had not yet started a fight, Zekk still could not escape the feeling that he had missed something important. A mental run-through assured him that his blaster’s energy cell was charged; Scooti had never been to this cantina, let alone been banned from it; and although Raven’s customers this time were a sketchy lot, she had worked for them dozens of times before.
Increasingly unsettled by what he could not pinpoint, Zekk studied his surroundings more closely. The Dustbowl was in one of the most dangerous parts of Mos Eisley, and the smallest indiscretion could soon change a being’s life for the worse. The usual assortment of smugglers and dealers and bounty hunters filled the space; the regulars guarded their nooks as carefully as they did their drinks; the staff dodged customers and featured dancers alike. There were the dancers themselves, of course, but-
Zekk nearly spat his drink as his eyes connected with a very familiar, extremely unlikely pair. Jaina swept her gaze right past him, but he knew she had seen him, even while all but wrapped around a particularly dangerous man. Scarred and tattooed enough to hide his species, Zekk recognized a gang leader, or high-end mob cleaner, when he saw one.
Zekk’s legs straightened underneath him, bringing him to a stand before he thought of it. He averted his stare as quickly as he could, and took his drink to the railing. He slouched over the edge, and did his best to look bored.
Jaina didn’t look at him again, even though he kept her firmly in the corner of his vision. She was very much not the Jaina he knew-even a good twenty feet away, he could see the red paints and gold glitter covering what skin was not shielded by her tiny black dress. She had draped herself across the man’s lap without a hint of her pragmatic nature. It was far worse than his glimpse of her in Revashed, almost a year previously.
The hand on Zekk’s shoulder took him off guard. His hand went immediately to his holster, only to have his wrist half-crushed by calluses. “Jaina really wouldn’t be happy,” murmured a slightly familiar voice. “I’d have to hurt you, and she’s been waiting to do that herself.”
Zekk’s jaw clenched, his suspicions confirmed even before he turned to see Kyp Durron. The smirking Jedi hadn’t become less dangerous, even wearing black eyeliner; he balanced it with an assassin’s black get-up. Zekk jerked his arm free. “What is she doing?”
Kyp spared Jaina a look. “You need to get out of here, now. This isn’t the time for street cockiness.”
Zekk snorted his disgust. “Think again. What’s going on?”
Kyp wasn’t listening, and all but hauled Zekk towards the stairs. “You’ve been avoiding Jaina for the past six months-why don’t you keep it up for another day?”
With some difficulty, Zekk managed to throw Kyp off. “I’ll look after myself. Is she going to be okay?”
Kyp gave him a black glare. “I warned you, didn’t I? It’s on your own head-but I wouldn’t wish this place even on you. So get that girl of yours, and get out of here before things turn nasty.” He paused, his expression no more forgiving. “Jaina can’t be distracted right now; we’ve worked too hard.”
Zekk did not want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay and make sure Jaina would get out safely, even if that meant finally facing her himself. He could not be reassured that at least this time she had backup; he could not imagine she had been able to hide a weapon anywhere in her slip-dress or heels. When he turned to look at her again, however, he noticed that Jaina was watching Kyp and himself with hardly any attempt at disguise. Kyp was right; he wasn’t helping her at all.
“I just have to find Scooti,” he finally conceded.
“Make it quick. You’ve already used your extra time griping. And don’t come back to this cantina for at least another year if you have any sense of self-preservation.”
Zekk really hoped that didn’t imply a long-term mission. He focused instead on finding Scooti and extracting the mechanic from a knife throwing game about to go sour.
As soon as he stepped out of the cantina, Scooti in unamused tow, Zekk wanted to turn right back around. He kept going anyway.
x-x-x
When Raven and Hrul returned to their ship, Zekk was not surprised that they had decided to stay docked. “Just until we find another job,” Raven added. “Scooti hasn’t visited the jails yet, I see. I’m sure she’ll make up for lost time.”
Hrul snorted, and headed into the ship. “How do we know she hasn’t already set it up?” he rumbled.
Raven grinned before turning back to Zekk. “By the way, that cantina Scooti was raving about-people have been disappearing faster’n usual. Best not go back anytime soon.”
Somehow, Zekk was not surprised by any of it. Not even a bit.
Part 2
Please R&R :D
by moonlightrick
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all planets, systems, governments, recognizable characters, etc. I own the plot, a few OC’s, and my characters’ therapy bill. I’m not making any money off of this.
Summary: And if you call, I will answer / And if you fall, I’ll pick you up / And if you court this disaster / I’ll point you home. Six months after their argument, Zekk runs into Jaina again-in the middle of one of her missions.
Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Fast as I Can. Title and summary lyrics come from “Call and Answer” by Barenaked Ladies.
Zekk knew that Jaina visited Peckhum; the old spacer never hid that information-in fact, Peckhum made a point of sharing it. Zekk usually cut Peckhum off before he had even started in on it. Zekk could be relatively certain that Jaina was not engaged; but the image of her temper was much more clear.
In six months, they hadn’t spoken a word. Zekk’s new job co-piloting the Grey Hawk consumed his time, even when they returned to Coruscant. He had never worked as hard in his life, let alone enjoyed his stable employment. He had thrown himself into learning everything he could about ship engines and piloting. Raven Lee and her crew seemed amused by his fervour but were generally helpful, so long as he kept his eyes off the secret compartments. They had been together too long to trust an outsider. Zekk thought he was winning them over, though; the captain liked him, at least.
If he missed more than just Peckhum when he was flying through the Outer Rim, Zekk worked harder to stop dwelling on it. The Outer Rim tabloids and news had other targets than the daughter of New Republic heroes, and only Mique was bent enough to share copies of the Coruscant ones. Zekk was doing very well forgetting about his friend, he thought, right up until Jaina made things difficult again.
x-x-x
Tattooine was always a trouble spot, and not just because his fellow crewmembers had gotten on the wrong side of the Hutts. Scooti, their overly young mechanic, invariably found the worst bar in Mos Eisley-not to mention any other city they docked in-and the stupidest or meanest men to fight over her. With the captain and her first mate always taking care of business on the planet, Zekk’s duties usually expanded to keeping an eye on the unwitting trouble magnet. With any luck, he managed to keep Scooti out of jail, though rarely off the bar’s banned list.
“Well, I’m off,” she told the crew as soon as they had landed. She knew enough, at least, to give warning now. “There’s this cantina I heard tell of, the Dustbowl, and-”
“Why don’t I come along, then,” Zekk interrupted. The places she had heard tell of were always the worst.
Hrul, the Hawk’s enormous first mate, growled something-either a warning or a threat. Zekk might not know Hrul’s species, but Hrul’s Scooti-sized soft spot hadn’t gone unnoticed since his first week on the Hawk.
“We’ll even try to keep you out of jail this time,” Zekk added, rolling his eyes.
“I just want a drink,” Scooti protested.
“And I am completely okay with that plan,” Zekk agreed. “But I’m bringing my blaster anyway.”
x-x-x
Despite Zekk’s best intentions, Scooti soon darted out of his immediate line of visiond, and he only caught glimpses of her through the night when she returned to the bar for drinks. There was a particularly dense mass in the crowded bar, off in the shadows, and that would be his first target if things went sour. Until then, Zekk found himself a drink and a table on the catwalk.
He had a reasonable view of the cantina, but the table’s location held him slightly apart from the mass of beings. Growing up a Coruscanti orphan had given him a sense of when-and around whom-he should stay off the radar, and this place gave off unmistakable warnings. Thankful for the wall at his back, and the not-very-well-hidden exit nearby, Zekk’s senses were overattentive; he kept his right hand near his blaster holster.
Zekk glanced to where he had last seen Scooti, and on his way back spotted her gleefully trying to drink a Wookiee under the table. Although satisfied that she had not yet started a fight, Zekk still could not escape the feeling that he had missed something important. A mental run-through assured him that his blaster’s energy cell was charged; Scooti had never been to this cantina, let alone been banned from it; and although Raven’s customers this time were a sketchy lot, she had worked for them dozens of times before.
Increasingly unsettled by what he could not pinpoint, Zekk studied his surroundings more closely. The Dustbowl was in one of the most dangerous parts of Mos Eisley, and the smallest indiscretion could soon change a being’s life for the worse. The usual assortment of smugglers and dealers and bounty hunters filled the space; the regulars guarded their nooks as carefully as they did their drinks; the staff dodged customers and featured dancers alike. There were the dancers themselves, of course, but-
Zekk nearly spat his drink as his eyes connected with a very familiar, extremely unlikely pair. Jaina swept her gaze right past him, but he knew she had seen him, even while all but wrapped around a particularly dangerous man. Scarred and tattooed enough to hide his species, Zekk recognized a gang leader, or high-end mob cleaner, when he saw one.
Zekk’s legs straightened underneath him, bringing him to a stand before he thought of it. He averted his stare as quickly as he could, and took his drink to the railing. He slouched over the edge, and did his best to look bored.
Jaina didn’t look at him again, even though he kept her firmly in the corner of his vision. She was very much not the Jaina he knew-even a good twenty feet away, he could see the red paints and gold glitter covering what skin was not shielded by her tiny black dress. She had draped herself across the man’s lap without a hint of her pragmatic nature. It was far worse than his glimpse of her in Revashed, almost a year previously.
The hand on Zekk’s shoulder took him off guard. His hand went immediately to his holster, only to have his wrist half-crushed by calluses. “Jaina really wouldn’t be happy,” murmured a slightly familiar voice. “I’d have to hurt you, and she’s been waiting to do that herself.”
Zekk’s jaw clenched, his suspicions confirmed even before he turned to see Kyp Durron. The smirking Jedi hadn’t become less dangerous, even wearing black eyeliner; he balanced it with an assassin’s black get-up. Zekk jerked his arm free. “What is she doing?”
Kyp spared Jaina a look. “You need to get out of here, now. This isn’t the time for street cockiness.”
Zekk snorted his disgust. “Think again. What’s going on?”
Kyp wasn’t listening, and all but hauled Zekk towards the stairs. “You’ve been avoiding Jaina for the past six months-why don’t you keep it up for another day?”
With some difficulty, Zekk managed to throw Kyp off. “I’ll look after myself. Is she going to be okay?”
Kyp gave him a black glare. “I warned you, didn’t I? It’s on your own head-but I wouldn’t wish this place even on you. So get that girl of yours, and get out of here before things turn nasty.” He paused, his expression no more forgiving. “Jaina can’t be distracted right now; we’ve worked too hard.”
Zekk did not want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay and make sure Jaina would get out safely, even if that meant finally facing her himself. He could not be reassured that at least this time she had backup; he could not imagine she had been able to hide a weapon anywhere in her slip-dress or heels. When he turned to look at her again, however, he noticed that Jaina was watching Kyp and himself with hardly any attempt at disguise. Kyp was right; he wasn’t helping her at all.
“I just have to find Scooti,” he finally conceded.
“Make it quick. You’ve already used your extra time griping. And don’t come back to this cantina for at least another year if you have any sense of self-preservation.”
Zekk really hoped that didn’t imply a long-term mission. He focused instead on finding Scooti and extracting the mechanic from a knife throwing game about to go sour.
As soon as he stepped out of the cantina, Scooti in unamused tow, Zekk wanted to turn right back around. He kept going anyway.
x-x-x
When Raven and Hrul returned to their ship, Zekk was not surprised that they had decided to stay docked. “Just until we find another job,” Raven added. “Scooti hasn’t visited the jails yet, I see. I’m sure she’ll make up for lost time.”
Hrul snorted, and headed into the ship. “How do we know she hasn’t already set it up?” he rumbled.
Raven grinned before turning back to Zekk. “By the way, that cantina Scooti was raving about-people have been disappearing faster’n usual. Best not go back anytime soon.”
Somehow, Zekk was not surprised by any of it. Not even a bit.
Part 2
Please R&R :D