#ollovae3

She turns away from her work, watching with narrowed eyes as her partner struggles with himself. She can see he is trying to hide his pain and discomfort from her, but as he shifts unsteadily to favor his right leg, she automatically knows. 

“Is it the phantom pain again?” she asks, voice soft as she approaches him, bare feet padding gently against the sandstone. 

Boba stills, gripping the last piece of armor in his hand as he avoids her gaze. “I’m fine, cyar’ika, no need to worry about me.”

She purses her lips. While they have broken through most of eachother’s walls in their relationship, Boba was still as stubborn as an old bantha when it came to Bee worrying about him. Looking at him for a moment longer, acutely aware of the waves of discomfort rolling off of him, she sighs. 

“We’re partners, Boba,” she reminds him, “Both on and off the job. It’s kind of my responsibility to worry about you. Just like you worry about me. Even if you won’t admit it.” her voice is teasing with her last words, and Boba can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

He gives her a small nod, grunting as he turns to sit on the bed. “I thought the medicine was helping,” he finally admits, one hand falling to where his prosthetic ends, rubbing it absentmindedly. “And my karking knee is acting up again, and my scars…” he looks away from the woman again, eyes falling to the floor instead. “It’s been a long day, is all.”

Bee’s heart aches as she looks at the man she loves. This journey of losing him to the sarlacc, getting him back, and dealing with the aftermath hasn’t been easy on either of them. But, seeing Boba struggle is one of the worst things for her, especially when he tries to keep it to himself. 

She moves to sit beside him on the bed, one hand running gently over his back as she rests her chin on his shoulder. “Well,” she begins slowly, “I found this new form of bacta cream in town the other day when you sent me out to search for parts for the Slave I. Why don’t we try it? You know that hot compresses help with joint pain.”

Boba turns to look at her, their noses brushing as he does so, and he feels his chest swell with adoration at the emotion swimming in her eyes. Without thinking, he reaches up and cups the back of her head, fingers threading through the long locks as he presses his lips to hers. She responds immediately, smiling into the action before pulling away and standing from the bed.

“I take that as a yes?” 

Boba lets out a playful scoff, “Yes,” he breathes, “We’ll try this special lotion of yours.”

Bee smiles down at him, before turning to go fetch the canister from the fresher. However, just before she enters the room, she turns back to the man sitting on the bed. “Take your robes off, and your prosthetic too,” she instructs gently. “I’ll be right back.”

Boba nods and does as instructed before waiting for her return.

------

It doesn't take long before Bee emerges from the fresher, carrying a small metal container and a steaming washcloth. With his prosthetic set off to the side, and propped up next to him, Boba sits on the edge of the bed, wearing only his briefs. Neither of them say much in the next few moments. Instead, she places the container onto the bed beside him, before gently placing the warm cloth over his right knee, just to make sure that it hadn't been too hot. Once he confirms that the temperature was okay, Bee crawls onto the bed behind him, taking the container in her hands before unscrewing the lid. She dips her fingers inside and scoops out a generous amount of the cream, before rubbing her hands together. 

Bee leans over his right shoulder and looks at him, “What’s bothering you the most?” 

Boba quietly reaches up and gestures vaguely to his back, shoulders and chest. In their silent understanding, she lathers the cream over his shoulders and down his back, deciding to start there and getting to the rest later. Her gentle ministrations feel soothing, as she massages the ointment into the scarred skin. 

Boba seems to relax into her touch immediately, his shoulders sagging tiredly, with his posture less rigid, as if the salve had pulled the pain right out of him. Letting out a relieved sigh at the feeling of her hands roaming over him, the salve feels cool and smooth, as she rubs the rest in. It is the most relief he’s felt all day, as if it had almost completely doused the dull fire beneath his skin, to which he smiles at the feeling. 

Once she’s sure the ointment has been absorbed, she reaches down for a bit more, scooting closer to Boba, as she moves to work the salve further into his chest. But just as her hands begin to make contact, a familiar rough hand covers her own, looking up from her work only to be met with the deep pools of brown she had grown so fond of. She tries to ask him if anything is wrong, but is cut off by the gentle squeeze he's given to her hand, all while pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, cyare,” Boba’s voice is a rumbled whisper as he speaks, but Bee hears him and sends him a small smile.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Boba,” Bee whispers back, giving him a kiss of her own, before turning to look down as she continues her treatment. 

Boba smiles for what feels like the dozenth time, his earlier pain and frustration forgotten, as he relaxes back into her, all while whispering,