#momentarilyhere

——

The door to the Commander’s – and now his – rooms slid open and the scent that wafted out made Theron’s mouth water and stomach grumble, reminding him that he’d missed lunch… eight hours ago.

“Commander?” he asked, glancing around the room. The two sofas in the common area had been pushed together, end to end, to make a large C-shape. A quilt draped over the top, sagging slightly in the middle, and the caf table was set to the side, stacked with takeout containers.

A disgruntled huff came from beneath the quilt and Vassanna extricated herself from beneath it, hair mussed and clinging to her face.

“Agent, you are late,” she said, stepping closer, her crisp voice at odds with the grin playing on her lips. Her pajama pants hung low on her hips and her sleep shirt had twisted, displaying a distracting amount of skin. She was already in pajamas? How did his schedule get so screwed up today?

“I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh. “I tried to get away, I swear. I’ve had the shittiest day and –” Theron paused, the furniture arrangement and her clothing sinking in. “A meeting?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes. A meeting.” The grin broadened impishly as she slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, slipping his jacket off. “Go change into pajamas.”

“Hey!” he yelped, reaching in vain for the garment, but Sanna twisted out of his reach, heading toward the bedroom. “No no no, you don’t get to keep both of my jackets, San.”

“Oh relax, I’m just putting it away. Besides, I already have one.” She winked at him as she grabbed a hanger from the armoire, using it to point to his drawer. “Now go do as you’re told.”

Theron frowned, a laundry list of his required tasks scrolling through his mind. “Babe, I still have to–”

“No, you don’t.” Sanna crossed her arms across her chest, shirt sliding back to where it belonged, and gave him a stern look. “What did Marcus Trant say when you disobeyed orders?”

“Nothing that stuck,” he answered with a cocky smirk. It was nice to know that he hadn’t lost his knack for irritating his boss; he’d gotten that look fairly often from Trant, too.

Her eyebrow raised and her lips twisted wryly. “Clearly. Well, your commanding officer just gave you an order, Agent. If you don’t follow it, she won’t hesitate to toss you in the brig, with no datapad, no holo-novels, nothing. Just a pillow and blanket.”

Theron glared at her and rested his hands on his hips, his smug attitude fading as he realized she might actually follow through on that threat.

“It certainly won’t be as comfortable as here,” she said, a look of triumph crossing her features. “And the company’s not nearly as good.”

Narrowing his eyes, Theron said, “You’re abusing your power here, Commander.”

“Perhaps.” Sanna gave him a soft, apologetic smile. “But if it gets you to rest and relax, it’ll be worth it. Now, will you please go change?”

A few minutes later, Theron returned from the ‘fresher to find the room empty. “Sanna?” A muffled response came from under the blanket, and he crawled into the makeshift fort with a chuckle, pleasantly surprised by how cozy it was. There were pillows – so many pillows – covering every surface, and that wasn’t an exaggeration: she must have stolen… er, conscripted at least half of Sana-Rae’s meditation cushions. Vassanna handed him a takeout box and a bottle of ale before opening her own, and as he settled in, she turned on a holovid that sounded vaguely familiar.

For the next hour and a half, they ate, laughed, and snuggled close in the dark cave created by the sofas and blanket. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right: he’d needed a rest – badly – as evidenced by his growing yawns. He slipped an arm between two pillows and around Sanna’s back, draping a leg over hers and holding her tight, his head resting on her shoulder and her arms around him.

Hmm, this is nice, he thought. A guy could get used to this. He kissed the side of her neck, right where it met her collarbone, and returned his attention to the film.

———

As the credits rolled on the holoflick, Theron sighed contentedly and tightened his arms around Sanna’s ribs. “Thanks for this, babe,” he said, nuzzling the side of her neck again.

She couldn’t keep a small giggle contained – stars that tickled – and his contentment washed over her. A small strand of possessiveness wove its way through the peacefulness, tangling around her. Though it shouldn’t have, the way he thought of her as his Jedi warmed her heart.

“Absolutely.” She kissed the top of his head, his hair in complete disarray. “Thanks for not making me throw you in the brig for insubordination,” she murmured, amusement dancing in her voice, and he chuckled.

“So, what made you think to build a fort?”

“Ah, we used to do it all the time when I was a kid. I’d go home to Mirial at least twice a year when I was still with my uncle and oh, the forts we kids would build!” Memories filled her view: giggling children, parents acting as though they couldn’t find a single child, ghost stories around fires made of flashlights. “There were usually half a dozen card tables set up in a row, blankets draped over the edge, snacks smuggled in…” She shrugged her other shoulder, so as to not disturb him. “It was fun and relaxing and … I don’t know, I thought you could use a break – you’ve been so busy, so worn out lately.”

“So have you.”

“We all have. But you’ve been taking care of me, waking up with my –” She cut herself off and sighed. “You help me when I don’t sleep well. You make sure I eat as regularly as possible, that I don’t go cross-eyed from reading reports. But I haven’t been returning the favor as much as I should.” Vassanna could feel him relaxing against her, his body growing heavier with every breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, gently twisting the strands. “So just relax, Theron. I took the liberty of rearranging our meetings for the morning, too, so we can sleep in a bit.”

“I feel like we should take advantage –” A large yawn interrupted, ruining Theron’s sly comment. “– of this freedom.” His hand crept up her ribcage, under her shirt, and he barely stifled another yawn. “Would you be offended if we didn’t?”

“Mmm, horribly. I suppose I’ll let it slide, though, but just this once. And only because I like you,” Sanna said, unable to contain a grin.

“Well, obviously that’s the reason. What’s not to like?” he asked, his tone smug.

Oh, stars help her, this man would be her undoing and she couldn’t seem to make herself care. They both chuckled, shifting closer together and deeper into the pillows, legs tangled together. Reaching out with the Force, she ensured the lights were off in the room before pulling down the roof of their fort, tucking the blanket around them.

Theron’s breathing evened out, tickling across her neck, as she wrapped her arms around him, one curled around his shoulders so she could run her fingers through his hair. Vassanna was seized by the desire to hold him like this forever, to keep him safe and content, to never let him go.

“No wonder you like sleeping with me in your arms like this,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he mumbled something incoherent in response. She made a mental note to lay like this more often, trailing her fingers tenderly down his arm as he slipped further into sleep.

Satisfied that Theron was finally getting the rest he needed, Sanna vowed to stay awake, unwilling to disturb him with a nightmare sparked by the monster in her head. “I think I’m falling for you, Theron Shan,” she whispered. “I’m way past ‘attached.’” She kissed his hair, the scent of his hair product – whatever it took to keep his perfectly spiky coif in place all day – filling her nose. “I think I should be scared by that, but… oh, it just feels right. Does that make any sense?”

A soft snore answered her and she smiled.