Phee brushed her teeth, then rinsed out her mouth, and wiped the residual toothpaste from her chin with a small cloth. She found her mind wandering as she moved to the doorway of the refresher.
The adjoining room was her bedroom in Shep’s large domicile. He had given Phee her choice in rooms years back, when she first decided to settle on Pabu. There were no romantic feelings between she and Shep, which simplified her accepting his offer of a room.
There was a large window and terrace offering a beautiful view of the sea.… It was the main reason she had chosen this for her bedroom. Although now, she realized, she ought to refer to it as ‘their’ bedroom….
Hers and Tech’s.
If Phee were completely honest, she had fallen for Tech the first time she laid eyes on him, in Cid’s office back on Ord Mantell. She had christened him ‘Brown Eyes,’ which had led to the reception of her very first Tech-supplied infodump, regarding the fact that all clones had brown eyes. Phenotypic something or other….
From that very first moment on she found that those innocent eyes, magnified behind their goggles, occupied her thoughts on a more and more frequent basis. She had never been one to be unduly affected by someone’s looks, but in her line of work, she had developed a knack for reading people based on their eyes.
Tech’s were the most expressive eyes she had ever seen. Even in his helmet, with only his eyes visible, they conveyed his emotions clearly. Before long, she began to dream about them most nights. Eventually, she began to dream about more of Tech than just his eyes, and some of those dreams were quite racy. It was an interesting phenomenon, considering that Tech hadn’t even kissed a girl before he met Phee.
But that slender, nicely-toned and lean body of his soon had her hot and bothered on the regular. She often caught herself distracted, imagining Tech naked. Tech, naked in her room. Tech, naked in her bed. Tech, naked beneath her, his lithe body entwined with hers….
After weeks of flirting and sending him blatant signals, the bookish clone had finally succumbed to Phee’s charms, to her absolute joy. They had officially been a couple now for about a couple dozen rotations, with everyone on Pabu rooting for them.
She had always been well-liked on the island, and it didn’t take long for Tech’s sweet, earnest awkwardness to win over the people, as well.
After all, Phee thought, it was difficult not to like Tech; the man was adorable, at least in her eyes. From the prematurely-receding hairline and big brown eyes, to the large, booted feet, he was a wiry bundle of never-ending information about any subject you could possibly imagine.
She had begun to call his fact-filled soliloquies, ‘Techsplanations,’ and the term had spread throughout the populace of Pabu like wildfire. If Tech was annoyed by it, he gave no indication thereof. In fact, Tech displaying any sort of annoyance or agitation was very scarce; he was as even-tempered as he was intelligent. That calmness paired with his intelligence made him very attractive… sexy, even.
Snapping back to the present, Phee shook herself a little, fanning her flushed face with one hand.
When she had sufficiently recovered, she sauntered sexily around the doorjamb. Tech was already laying on the bed, clad in his civilian clothes, arms behind his head and eyes closed.
Phee smiled an impish smile and charged. With a yelp, she sprang onto the bed and landed on all fours, straddling him. She leered down, bobbing her eyebrows as the man beneath her calmly opened his brown eyes, looking up with only mild interest.
"Miss Genoa," he chirped, expectantly.
"Grrrr," Phee growled, lowering her eyelids seductively and playfully baring her teeth.
"Hmm," Tech replied, shaking his head a little at her antics. “You are certainly in an odd state tonight. Perhaps it is the full moon.” He punctuated his statement with the faintest of smiles.
Phee sobered, sitting back on her heels and studying the man beneath her.
"How come you don’t smile more, Tech?" she asked, pouting. “You have such a cute little smile.”
“No particular reason.” Tech closed his eyes again with a shrug. "I am simply not a smiler."
The man drew out the word 'smiler', and the velvety sound of his tenor voice and its rich timbre, sent the usual chill down her spine. That voice could have been the ruin of many a female, if Tech had chosen. But as far as she knew, the intelligent clone had maintained a life of chastity.
At least until he met Phee, of course.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, then turned to look at her companion. She grinned as she noted that the clone was nearly asleep.
Stealthily, she leaned over to open the drawer of the small nightstand beside the bed, withdrew something, and then returned to his side, again.
"So, no smiling, got it," she said conversationally. "And… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh."
Tech opened one eye and looked curiously at her.
"You know I do not laugh." He sat up slightly, propping himself on his elbows. "Why has this facet of my personality suddenly piqued your interest?"
"Just thinking.” The dark-skinned woman shrugged. “I wonder if you’d be interested in a little wager?" She smiled mischievously at her partner, and Tech’s light brown eyes narrowed suspiciously behind the amber lenses of his ever-present goggles.
"What sort of wager?" he asked, tentatively.
“Simple.” She moved to straddle him again. "You have to..."
"Smile?" Tech finished.
"Nope... NOT smile... OR laugh," replied Phee with a smug grin. She bounced slightly on the bed, loving the solidness of Tech's thighs between her legs.
Tech seemed to ponder as he was jostled.
"What do I win?" he asked.
Phee stopped bouncing and chuckled.
"I don’t know," she replied with a shrug. "Free rein over me for a week?"
"Do I not already have that?"
“Uh, cheeky.” The woman glared. "If you aren't interested..."
"No, no, it's fine.” Tech held up a slender hand. “I accept your wager. But if I win, the subject of my laughter—or lack thereof—will no longer be considered an issue.”
“Agreed.” Phee gave a curt nod.
“Now if YOU win—“ He cocked an eyebrow expectantly. “Well, what do you want if you win?"
“If I win,” Phee replied softly, her onyx eyes gazing tenderly into his brown ones, "then, I want you to be happy."
"Phee, I AM happy," Tech argued, brow furrowing. “I do not express emotions as others do, but—"
She shook her head.
"I want you to show it, for a change,” she said. “Come out from behind that stoic, scientific front you always hide behind. Step outside your comfort zone. Have some fun. Try new things.”
Tech snorted.
“But most of all,” she added, softly, “I want to see you enjoy life… with me."
Tech sighed.
"And no datapad," Phee added, quickly, "for one week."
Tech hummed apprehensively, pursing his lips as he considered.
"Very well," he said, after a few beats.
"Great!" Phee pointed. "Grab the headboard," she instructed. “And close your eyes.”
It was clear that Tech was dying to ask her why, but to his credit, he held his tongue. With a sigh, he did as he was told, closing his eyes and reaching back over his head to slip his hands between the heavy, vertical wooden spindles of the headboard.
Phee produced the item she had taken from the bedside drawer; a long, brightly colored, silken scarf. It was one of several that she used to tie up her hair.
She knee-walked up the length of Tech’s body and used the scarf to quickly bind his wrists to the headboard. She’d had practice restraining people during her life as a smuggler and pirate, making her quick and efficient. Tech was tied fast in a matter of milliseconds.
Tech’s eyes flew open. He looked up at his wrists with a gasp and instinctively began to struggle, breathing faster.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Phee said quickly.
She hated herself in that moment. How could she have been so stupid, after what Tech had suffered as Hemlock’s pet project?
"Hold still,” she said, comfortingly. “I'll release you."
"No," Tech said, calming, breathing deeply and closing his eyes. "No… I am… all right."
"Really?" Phee asked uncertainly, reaching out to cup Tech's chin. The magnified eyes settled on hers, and she saw that the moment of panic seemed to have passed. He was relaxed. “You sure?”
"Yes," Tech replied softly. "I… am sorry. Muscle memory, you know." He sighed and stretched his neck from side to side. "You took me by surprise, but I am fine, now."
"Ok then, if you're sure." Phee smiled a little, and gave his cheek a pat. She was quiet for a long moment, just gazing down at his face. "You know I’d never hurt you," she murmured, sincerely, “right?”
He nodded, those big eyes studying her face as she moved to straddle his thighs, again.
With a soft smile, Phee reached down to gently ease Tech's chin up with one finger, and unfastened the collar of his vest. Next, she went to work on the line of fastenings down his chest.
The bound man watched Phee's hands, then turned his gaze up to meet her eyes. He cleared his throat, cocking an eyebrow.
"You know, I could have done that before you tied me up—"
"Shut up," Phee growled with a grin, working her way down to the hem of the vest where it ended at Tech's waist. She spread the garment open and rolled her eyes at the sight of the off-white, long sleeved form-fitting shirt underneath.
Tech yawned. Phee threw him a look.
“Oh, forgive me,” she said, teasingly as she tugged the shirt out of Tech's tight, blue trousers, and pushed it up as far as it would go, bunching it under his arms. "Am I boring you?"
"A little," Tech whined, flexing his fingers, “to be perfectly honest.”
"Is it too tight?" she asked, attentively. She reached for the scarf, but Tech shook his head.
"No, my fingers got a bit tingly for a second, there." He scowled. "Now, are you going to do anything besides meddle with my clothing?” He cocked his head. “Because I guarantee you, that will not make me smile."
Phee just made a mischievous, mysterious little face as she finished with his shirt. She gave her captive’s body a long lingering look from head to toe, a slow, sly grin spreading over her face.
"Last chance to forfeit, Tech," she murmured quietly.
Tech sneered. "Surely you jest."
"Suit yourself," Phee muttered with a shrug. "Now then—just so we’re clear—ONE smile, or ONE laugh, and I win. Agreed?"
Tech hesitated. As soon as Phee had started undoing his vest, he suspected he knew what she was planning, and he was suddenly, acutely aware of how vulnerable a position he was in.
But, he mused, there was no reason to worry; he'd withstood pain innumerable times before. This should be easy.
"Agreed," he replied evenly, slightly tightening his fingers around the cloth binding him. He closed his eyes as Phee leaned down and brushed a quick kiss over his lips.
Sitting up, Phee reached out with both hands and rested her fingertips lightly under Tech's arms. Then she slowly trailed them down his sides, barely touching the skin. She let her fingers slide down to bump gently over the ribs, then lower, following the curves of strong muscles where Tech's waist narrowed, whisper-soft touches gliding down along the edges of his flat, firm stomach.
Tech had to catch himself when those fingers touched his sensitive skin. He'd come very close to gasping, and knew if he did, his secret would be exposed and Phee would have all but beaten him.
The secret was that the stoic, serious, flawlessly-logical Tech was excruciatingly ticklish. Until this moment, he was certain he'd kept it hidden from Phee.
Naturally, Clone Force 99 had learned of their youngest member’s weakness way back when they were still cadets. That dark day was the bane of his existence, as his brothers took great delight in exploiting Tech’s newly-discovered Achilles Heel.
Wrecker, especially, had no shame at all when it came to tickling him. ‘Tech Tickle Advantage,’ he called it, to the great amusement of everyone except Tech. He found the entire situation tedious.
The science-minded Tech was someone who liked to be in control, whether it be of his mind, his body, or the Marauder. The fact that he could be reduced to a thrashing, shrieking heap on the floor by something so innocuous as well-placed wiggling fingers…. Humiliating.
Now, he managed to maintain a stone-faced expression, holding eye contact with Phee. The pirate lady smiled seductively at him as those fingertips began a second journey over his sensitized skin.
Tech suddenly realized he was holding his breath, and tried to let it out discreetly. He also realized he was not blinking, and quickly did so. He tried to school his face and body into not responding to the maddening torture being inflicted on him by his lover.
Phee's fingers were now lingering along the sides of his belly, softly dancing up and down over his skin, and Tech had to bite down on his tongue to keep from groaning.
Phee wasn't fooled by her partner's attempts at showing no response. Tech's face might be neutral, but with every brush of her fingertips, Phee could feel the traitorous muscles beneath his smooth, tanned skin contracting and trembling at her touch. She could feel Tech’s strong thighs tensing underneath her as the man struggled not to squirm.
"How are you holding up, Brown Eyes?" Phee asked softly, smiling down at her victim.
Tech blinked and jumped a little, looking up at her.
"Fine," he squeaked, then cleared his throat and repeated, "fine," in a slightly lower octave.
Phee just nodded knowingly.
"Just let me know if you would like me to stop," she said.
"Stop what?" Tech asked, with obviously-forced lightness.
"Oh ho!" Phee countered, impressed. "Have it your way. I'm certainly having fun."
She began working on Tech's stomach, swirling her fingertips in spidery, feather-light paths over the flat planes of muscle. She was quite sure she heard a whimper this time, and she looked up to find that the brown eyes behind the goggles were squeezed shut. Chuckling softly to herself, she continued, tracing slow circles all over Tech’s taut belly.
“Huh…, that’s odd,” Phee said out of nowhere.
“What is?” Tech managed to growl, opening his eyes.
“You’ve got a belly button,” she said, using the pad of her middle finger to lightly circle the little divot. “I didn’t think clones had belly buttons.”
“Each clone on Kamino was developed within a synthetic womb,” Tech explained, grateful for the chance to distract himself with an infodump. “We were nourished, via umbilical cord, by an artificial placental sac. The mammalian navel is nothing more than a scar left when—”
He broke off with a gasp as Phee leaned down and brushed her lips lightly across his navel, then began peppering the surface of his tummy with soft little kisses and flicks of her tongue.
Tech’s muscles were twitching and flinching like mad under Phee’s touch, now, and she seemed impressed that he was still holding his ground.
She tugged his tight, blue trousers down an inch or two and began to skim her nails back and forth across the tight skin between Tech's hipbones.
He had now closed his eyes, set his jaw and pressed his mouth into a thin, straight line. Breathing hard through his nose, he tried to focus his mind on something, anything besides the delicate, horrible friction of Phee's fingernails on his underbelly.
His abdominal muscles ached from trying to contract away from the devilish touches. He could feel the sweat beading on his upper lip and brow, and knew that he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. But he was a proud man, and giving in to his impish associate would harm his pride.
"You are one stubborn man, Brown Eyes," Phee said suddenly, unexpectedly.
Tech opened his eyes. Phee was shaking her head at him, locks bobbing, with an exasperated expression on her face.
Was she practicing telepathy, now?
"You'll explode before you'll let me win this wager, won't you?" Phee chided.
She leaned down and met Tech’s flushed, bow-shaped lips briefly with her own, smiling to herself as she noted the sweat that glistened on his brow.
Phee lowered her face and nuzzled his neck for a bit, then his ears. When she went in for another kiss, she slipped the tip of her index finger into his navel, and chuckled as he moaned into her mouth. This wasn't going to take much longer.
"Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn," she muttered affectionately, sitting back up.
Tech started to reply, but had to bite back a sharp yelp as Phee started on his ribs. The thin, tight skin over his ribs was the most ticklish spot on his body, and Tech knew he was in trouble. The pirate's fingers crept lightly up and down the sides of his ribcage, and he started to feel slightly dizzy from the efforts of holding in his reaction.
"Ahh, now we're getting somewhere," Phee muttered smugly.
"Gahrr," Tech growled in response, knowing he sounded a bit strangled. He turned his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing that he was about to lose the wager. When Phee's nails began to scratch delicately over the protruding ridge of his bottommost ribs, he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from dissolving into laughter. The woman seemed to realize she'd found a good spot, because she stayed there a long time.
Phee was trying hard to contain her own laughter as she watched Tech fighting against his body's reactions. The clone's face was dripping with sweat, his chest was heaving, and he seemed to be close to hyperventilating as he breathed through his clenched teeth.
A slight twinge of unease flickered across Phee's mind as she realized Tech would pass out if this went on much longer. Suddenly, she had an idea. She pulled his hands away, holding them up in submission.
"I give up," she said.
Tech opened his eyes again, surprised. He couldn't believe it. He'd won. Phee had no idea just how close she had been to winning the wager. But now, it was over.
Letting out his breath in a relieved sigh, he sunk into the mattress, feeling smug. He allowed his muscles to relax, going limp.
That was just what Phee was waiting for. Without warning, she pounced. Abandoning the light fingertip caresses, she now dug her fingers into Tech's stomach and tickled him hard. The result was instantaneous.
Totally unprepared, Tech practically levitated off the bed, and was instantly reduced to helpless, hysterical laughter. Phee was merciless, prodding at his tummy, then attacking his ribs, then grabbing his waist.
All was lost. Tech laughed so hard he saw stars.
"Phee...Phee...please...gah...STOP!"
Phee shook her head, kneading the sides of his belly with her thumbs. "Do you admit defeat?" she prompted.
"Piss off!"
The pirate cackled with delighted laughter, collapsing forward to rest her forehead on Tech's chest. She just sat there for a few moments, weak with mirth, enjoying the feel of his body shaking beneath her.
She placed a soft kiss between Tech’s nipples, then lowered her mouth and blew a long, loud raspberry on the sweaty skin of his belly.
"ACK! Phee!" Tech managed to choke out between gales of laughter. “Stop stop STOP!”
"Concede!" Phee shouted again, using her index fingers to poke and drill all over Tech’s torso.
"No... ahh SHIT...hahahaha... FINE, YOU WIN!"
"What was that, Tech?" Phee called, still tickling.
"You win! You win! Now STOP!" Tech wailed.
Finally, Phee relented, shifting off of Tech, and stretching out on her side next to him. She chuckled at the clone’s face, usually serious and somewhat pale, now ruddy with exertion. His reddish-brown hair was soaked with sweat, and his eyes were definitely alight with something close to giddiness.
"The methods of that victory were dubious, at best," Tech grumbled, breathing hard and throwing Phee a dark look. But there was still a smile on his face. “However, I do accept defeat, and offer you my heartfelt congratulations.”
Phee reached out and smoothed Tech's hair back, and when he turned his face to look at her, leaned in and kissed him. Then she cradled his sharp jaw in one hand, gently brushing her thumb over the skin. It was a novel and wonderful thing, to see him so animated, and Phee felt her heart swell with affection for him.
"I love you," she murmured softly, with a gentle smile.
The reaction wasn't at all what she expected; all traces of laughter vanished from Tech’s flushed face and he just stared at her, jaw going a bit slack. He blinked a few times, then swallowed, but he did not return the endearment.
Feeling foolish, Phee began to worry that her admission of love was premature. But as her mind raced, she noticed something that tore her up inside. Tears were filling Tech's eyes. As she watched, the clone blinked, and the tears escaped to stream out the bottom of his goggles.
"Oh... Tech...," she cooed in concern, brushing the tears away with her thumb, only to have them replaced by fresh ones. "Baby, what's wrong? What is it?" She was at a loss, with no idea what to say.
"I am sorry." Tech shook his head a little. "You surprised me. No one… no one has ever said that to me before." He gave a humorless little smile, and sniffled.
"You mean you've never been in love?" Phee asked, leaning in to kiss his forehead.
"No, I mean—" Tech shook his head again. “—I mean, NO ONE has ever said it. Ever. You are the first."
“But….” Phee's eyes narrowed. "When you were a toddler… a little boy—"
Tech shook his head. “Kaminoans are not particularly nurturing, nor are they affectionate,” he said, quietly. “As soon as we were walking, we began our training as soldiers.”
Phee felt her throat tightening, and tears burning her eyes. There were times when her man said things that were so simple, yet so heartbreaking. The thought of little Tech never being hugged, or shown love, from the day he was born….
And the fact that adult Tech seemed to think that was, in any way, normal….
“To be honest,” Tech chuckled, "I often wondered when, or if, I would ever hear those words meant for me, and what the circumstances would be. I guess you could say I have been waiting my whole life for it." He flexed his fingers, wincing a little.
"Oh!" Phee said, suddenly remembering that her poor lover was still tied up. She reached above his head to seize the scarf and quickly worked the knot loose to release his wrists.
Once he was free, Phee pulled him to her breast and cuddled him. She ran her fingers slowly through the short, sweaty hair, brushing it back from his ample forehead.
"I love you, Tech," she murmured quietly into his hair. "I'll say it whenever you need me to. We'll make up for all the times someone should have said it." She kissed the top of her love's head, and nuzzled his brow.
"Could you... please say it again?" came the timid, tenor voice, sounding sleepy.
"I love you, Tech."
Tech snuggled against his lady, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft, warm brush of her sweet breath against his skin. For the first time in his life, he did not feel isolated. He felt loved. Accepted, and loved. And for the first time, he didn't shy away in uncertainty from his own feelings. They filled him up, and he tightened his arms around the person who had brought about the remarkable change in him.
"I love you, Phee."
It was a night of firsts. The first time Tech heard someone tell him they loved him, and the first time he said it back.
THE END
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
