a little eggstra
When Doc makes a small addition to the shopping list, a certain Jedi's inexperience with groceries is revealed. Based on a Tumblr post from days of yore. SWTOR. Mostly genfic but established F!Jedi Knight x Doc makes an appearance. 1400 words. AO3.
0400 hours is a hell of a time for a grocery run, but when your pregnant wife wants fried werris eggs, you get her fried werris eggs. Cherita learned that the hard way.
Even at peak hours, Dellard’s is usually pretty quiet. It’s small and out of the way, and at 0400 she expects it to be deserted. Instead, she’s nearly plowed over by a trolley as soon as she steps through the door. The white-knuckled man hunched over its handle doesn’t seem to have even noticed her, zipping past at a speed she didn’t think Dellard’s old trolleys could achieve, his face all pinched up in an expression that’s either anger or determination.
His trolley is full of eggs.
There isn’t time to count them, not with him trying to make the jump to hyperspace in the dairy aisle, but Cherita is sure there were upward of twenty cartons.
That is so many eggs.
The second she dares to step back into the narrow aisle, she is nearly run over a second time by a woman apparently giving chase to the egg man. She is tall like he is, brown-skinned and broad-shouldered, and apparently sculpted from Durosian marble. The impossibly form-fitting athletic pants she wears cling to the edge of every muscle, revealing a tight, shapely ass that Cherita kind of wants to take a bite out of.
It’s distracting enough she forgets about the weird egg thing.
“Rhese!” The woman shouts, catching up with the man in a tight corner while Cherita contemplates the morality of grabbing a sneak shot of that ass for Lua’s benefit. No one likes a good ass more than her wife.
“You said this was a beer run,” the man who is apparently Rhese shouts back.
“It is! Doc just asked me to pick up a few things while we’re out.”
Cherita turns the corner right behind them, following them a little out of curiosity but mostly because they’ve decided to have their domestic right in front of the eggs. Ass or no ass, Lua only has so much patience.
“What could Doc possibly need twenty-four cartons of eggs for at this hour?”
The woman just shrugs.
“This doesn’t concern you?” The man demands, his voice pitching higher in the kind of exasperation Cherita has gotten to know well through this pregnancy.
“He’s trying to cure Huttese nether-rot or Bothan wasting disease or something. I don’t ask questions.”
“You don’t ask--You’re--” The man gapes at her. Now that she can see their faces, Cherita decides they must be siblings. Maybe even twins. “You’re letting him mix chemicals? On the ship? Where we live?”
Cherita doesn’t think she’s ever heard a man’s voice go that high.
“He’s a doctor, Rhese. What do you think he does while he’s waiting for us to get blown up again?”
“You’re the only one who gets blown up! And I have a very good idea about what he does with his spare time.” The man shudders theatrically, and Cherita thinks she has a pretty good idea what this doctor might be doing with his free time too. Which reminds her they’re almost out of eggplant and she should probably grab some while she’s here.
“I think you might be projecting, little brother.” The woman plucks a carton of something gelatinous from the shelf and casually examines its label, as if she had no idea the man was turning a hue of red so violent it was nearly purple. Their fond antagonism gave Cherita a little pang of longing for her own sisters.
“I do not--” The man splutters before he can quite stop himself. “No. You know what, I’m calling Doc. There is no possible reason he could need this many eggs and I am not going to be trapped on a ship recycling air that smells of whatever he thinks he’s doing.”
“Suit yourself.” The woman drops the gelatinous something back on the shelf and turns to peruse a display of energy pudding, giving Cherita a great view of her ass. So sculpted and firm. Her tenuous commitment to morality and the privacy of strangers withers, and she fishes out her own holocomm as the woman’s brother pulls out his.
She’s already sent Lua three pictures of the woman’s chiseled rear when a blue figure crackles to life over the man’s comm.
“Miss me already?” The figure asks.
The man--Rhese--makes a disgusted noise. “What exactly are you planning to do with three hundred werris eggs?” He demands without preamble.
The woman, paying very little attention to this conversation, shifts her stance and Cherita feels obliged to send Lua another three or four pictures of her ass in this new, slightly different position.
“Three hundred eggs? What are you talking about, Junior?”
The man shifts his comm so the figure can see the trolley full of eggs. There is a moment of silence, and then the figure bursts into laughter.
“Where’s Rea?” He asks.
Frowning, Rhese turns the holocomm so it will capture his sister’s image. The figure gives an appreciative whistle, which Cherita finds immensely relatable, and the woman apparently called Rea answers with a wink.
“Have I mentioned how much I like those pants?”
“You said they looked great on the floor.”
“Damn. I made a good point.”
“Ugh,” Rhese groans. “Can we please focus?”
The figure laughs, but changes the subject. “Listen, Gorgeous. I gotta ask. When I said I needed two dozen eggs--What exactly did you hear?”
The woman blinks a few times before answering. “Two dozen eggs. That’s what I got.” She gestures to the trolley full of eggs and Cherita, despite not knowing these people at all, figures she sees where this went sideways.
“Oh, Rea.” The figure says fondly. “Light of my life. My sun, my moon, my very sexy stars. Did you pick up two dozen cartons of eggs?”
Rea nods. “That’s what you asked for.”
The figure turns back to face the brother, Rhese. A beat of silence passes before they simultaneously burst into laughter. Cherita finds herself smiling too, watching the puzzlement cross the woman’s face. She pops one of the cartons open, her lips moving silently as she counts and--
“Oh,” she says. “There’s twelve eggs in here.”
“Also known as a dozen,” her brother laughs, looking very smug.
“I know how much a dozen is, thank you,” Rea says drily, but with a hint of a smile. She’s evidently the sort of woman who’s comfortable with laughing at herself. Cherita wonders if she’s interested in threesomes.
“I can’t believe you’ve never looked inside a carton of eggs before,” the man on the holo says, still laughing. After a beat, he adds, “No, actually that makes perfect sense. I’ve seen you cook.”
“You said you wanted a hot meal. The only thing you eat is energy pudding. What was I supposed to take away from that?”
Rhese grimaces comically. “What did you do to the poor energy pudding?”
“Let’s say lightsabers aren’t meant for cooking and leave it at that,” the figure on the holo says.
Lightsabers, huh? Well that’s--That’s sure something. Probably answers her question about the threesome.
“If you two idiots are done,” the apparent Jedi says, rolling her eyes, “I think we should probably let this lovely woman finish her shopping in peace.”
The man looks up, startled, and immediately flushes when he sees they have an audience. “Oh,” his voice turns a little breathy, almost embarrassed, as he addresses Cherita. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize--”
“I should probably get back to this huge chemical fire, anyway,” the figure on the holocomm says, just before winking out.
“Wait--” the man’s attention jerks away from Cherita. “What? Doc? What?!”
The woman looks at Cherita and rolls her eyes. Cherita finds herself nodding along sympathetically, feeling a little bit outside her own body. Almost like that time she met Cole Steele. Or whatever the name of the guy who plays him in the vids is. She doesn’t know why it should feel like that with a woman who is nothing more to her than a stranger with a great ass and a hilarious misconception about the packaging of eggs, but there it is.
“He was joking, right?” The man asks.
“Probably not.” The woman takes her brother by the elbow and starts to direct them toward the register, two dozen cartons of eggs still in their trolley. Cherita watches them go with a fluttery feeling in her stomach that only multiplies when the woman tosses her a wink over her shoulder. “Get home safe, Beautiful,” she says.
For the first time since her wedding, Cherita finds herself blushing.
