minific prompt: E. Sharing a drink.
She knew that she should behave herself around the man. Force knew that if anyone treated her the way she was treating him, she would have murdered them ages ago.
But how could she resist? The stuttering, the blushes, the glances to the side, were all so delicious on him. Yet, beyond the work, he tended to avoid her like the rakghoul plague.
It wasn’t until their work was done at Tattooine that she considered how to proceed. He was quite eager to leave the planet, and she couldn’t blame him, but she had one thing left to do.
“I find myself curious how the masses mingle, Captain. Besides, I find myself parched and would rather like a drink.”
He sighed, but patience was something that Quinn seemed to have in spades, and she watched him as he turned his attention to the crowd. “Would you prefer the bar, or a table, my Lord?”
“You pick, Quinn. But do get me a glass of wine.”
“It is a bar, Quinn. I do plan on relaxing for at least a short minute. I would encourage you to do the same, but I doubt you will.”
She didn’t let him finish, instead moving off toward the musicians’ stage. They had caught her attention earlier in the trip, but she had been focused on the mission, then. There was something fascinating about them to her. They were likely highly uneducated, without true talents (as far as most of the Empire was concerned), and yet... they followed a passion that she had to admire. There was no future here, in a terrible cantina on a backwards planet, yet there they were, performing because the music drove them. Everyone had their perverse pleasures, it would seem. She had not considered it could reveal themselves in ways other than passion for power.
She was uncertain how long she stood there, observing the group, before a soft clearing of throat interrupted her train of thought. “Apologies, my lord. Your wine?”
A pleasantly surprised smile spread on her lips. “Quinn, you...” She cut herself off at that point, recalling that she had told him to bring her one. Shaking her head, she took the wine glass from him. “Thank you. But I need to be careful what I say around you, evidently. You will take everything for an order, if I request it.”
“I am here to serve, my Lord,” he remarked, his confusion fairly obvious as he led her to their booth.
“And yet, we are in the most informal location in the galaxy, and you are still following orders, Quinn. Please... I did not tolerate such things being demanded of me at the Academy, nor will I demand them of you.” When she slipped into the bar, she noticed that he had, at least, gotten himself a glass of wine, as well. A genuine smile spread at that. “So, you do know how to relax.”
He shifted a bit, before taking the glass by its and swirling it atop the tabletop to let the wine breathe. “It is a good vintage. I was pleasantly surprised they had it here. It has been some time since I could indulge in it.”
“And hopefully, not the last.” She brought her glass up, tilting it towards him. “To a moment’s rest, Quinn.”
“To a moment’s rest, my---” He stopped for a moment, seemingly taking her words into account. “---Raexya?”
Her broad smile was all the reassurance he needed to know he had said the right thing.
Everyone at the bar was left quite happy by the time they were done, for she had tipped the musicians, the bartender, and the server, quite generously. That she had also purchased six bottles of the wine that Quinn seemed quite fond of had left him quite happy, for she had caught an actual smile crossing his lips. But for once, she didn’t call him out on it. He was painfully handsome, Imperial Eugenics at its finest, but she needed to remind herself that there was a time and a place for everything... and he needed a moment’s rest from her passion, as well.
