Never a good day in this business.

Never good…maybe better than the day before….but you could never classify a day as good.

With a sigh, you bend and rub your calves…somewhere behind you a catcall sounds and you roll your eyes. Straightening back up, you turn and put your hands on your hips. "Nice…but whistles don't pay my bills…why don't you come over here and give it a go, honey?"

The young man that whistled begins to walk toward you, but his friends stop him. He gives you a look up and down, but turns and walks away. You shrug. "Your loss."

"It's always their loss, Miranda."

"Hey…we are prime merchandise, Jenessa."

You share a laugh with her and lean back against the wall. It might not be a good day, but it is always a survivable day with Jenessa. You and she have been working the same corner for the last five standard months…and although you would not classify her as a friend…she is the closest thing you have to one now.

"Gods it's cold tonight," Jenessa sighs and rubs her legs together. Obviously the short black skirts that you both wear are no protection from the cool Coruscant night.

"Yeah…but it is only another two hours until sunrise, Jenessa, we can live through anything for two hours, right? Besides, if we go home now…we miss all the big payers."

"I can afford to miss a night…"

"I can't."

"I know, Mir…I know….how is little Lan?"

"He is getting bigger everyday." You smile at the mention of your son's name. A sudden whip of cool wind wraps around you and you shiver. "But Gods, you are right…it is cold." Usually the corner of Galactic and Theed is warm…protected as a corner can be down in the underworld of Coruscant…but…

A sudden raindrop stops your train of thought. Another falls on your face as you turn to look at Jenessa. She meets your gaze with a lift of her eyebrow and a shrug.

"Was there a storm scheduled for tonight?" you ask. Usually the planned weather on Coruscant is your saving grace…you know when to stay in…when to move your base of operation into a club…and when to be outside.

"No…" she answers as another drop of rain falls on her face. "Definitely not."

You shrug and lean back against the wall. "Maybe it is just a passing…."

The wall next to you seems to explode. You push away from it as various bricks; mortar and architecture fall around you. Jenessa dances away from the wall, pieces of plaster sticking in her blond hair. You reach out and grab her arm to keep her from teetering on her high heels. "What the hell…"

"Gods…"

The thunderous sound of heavy blaster fire makes you push on your friend's arm. "Move, Jenes…"

"What the hell is going on…." She shouts as she pushes back with you.

You open your mouth, but duck suddenly. The arching over your head falls to the pavement and you grunt from the feeling of shrapnel plaster as it hits your legs. Overhead the heavens open and gushes of rain fall on you…coating you in wet plaster and water. Your hair sticks to your head, in your eyes…all you can feel is the water dripping on them…and your clothes are stuck to your body. Whirls of action happen around you…you duck behind a pillar at the corner.

"Gods…is that the martial police?" Jen asks as she collapses next to you. A bolt of energy explodes at the top of the pillar and its carved top falls at your feet. You pull in your feet and look around the base of the pillar.

"I hope the hell not…the last thing I need…" you shout back and whip around to face away from the scene. "…is to be arrested tonight."

The next section of the pillar falls to your feet and with a moan you stand. Jenessa jumps to her feet as well. "We can't stay here."

"You can say that again, Jen…let's move it."

Sheets of icy rain fall around you and the wind increases. You grab her hand and begin to run away from the scene, only to find that fire is coming from all sides. The sizzle of laser in rain sounds around you and Jen groans as a bolt hits the ground near her…you know her bare legs are singed. "Run…"

"I can't…." she moans.

You turn to grab her, to move her, and a pair of iron strong arms wrap around your neck and pull you up until you can barely stand…your feet scrabble to keep you aright….your hands fly to wrap around the arm that holds you. "Jen…" you gasp as your friend collapses to the ground near you.

"Hold it right there!" a voice booms in your ear. "Don't move or she gets it…" you feel the cold muzzle of a gun press against your temple. You stop struggling and will your lungs to take in great gulps of air. You don't scream or move too quickly, afraid that the gun will explode…go off….and you squint at the people that the man that holds you towards. And you see…a beam of light like a blade…glowing blue in the night…against the sheets of rain that fall.

"Easy…" the man holds out his hand, holding the hilt of his weapon easily in one palm. His short hair is dark…wet…and the clothes that he wears…it is a cloak of some sort. You can see a lone braid that falls against his chest. "Easy…holding her against me will only compound your crime…"

"Yeah…but you are a Jedi…you can't hurt her even if she is a whore…can you?"

You swallow against the hard arm holding your neck. Whore? You prefer prostitute.

"She is a citizen of the Republic…regardless of her profession," the faceless man answers…all you can see of him against the harsh lights of the clubs is…his hair…spiky and that blade of his…it paints his form in a bluish halo. "Let her go."

"What are you going to do if I don't…you'll have to just let me walk out of here. Using the Force…"

The voice trails off and you feel the rain turn warm suddenly…almost searingly hot…and the arm releases you slowly…and falls off completely.

"I warned him, Master…" the blue bladed Jedi intones as he turns to glance down the street.

"So you did, Padawan," another voice answers behind you. You turn slowly, shaking, to see another blade dousing itself…this one emerald green. "Never mind…"

"Wha?" you ask and look at your feet to see a beheaded man's body…the head lying a short distance away on the ground. "Gods…" your hand flies to your mouth.

Before you can think, another round of blaster fire sounds around you…the heat as hot as a noon day sun against your rain cooled skin.

The Jedi behind you grunts and grabs your wrist with his hand. "Let's go…"

You turn to shout for Jenessa only to see that the other Jedi has her in his arms. The Jedi that holds your hand stops to allow his 'Padawan' to get past him. "Go, Obi-Wan…"

With a moan, you try to wrestle your hand from the 'Master' Jedi's hand. "Unhand me…"

The pair of eyes that meet yours in the dark are shockingly, warming blue. "I will when you are out of danger…you saw what happened here and my Padawan and I might finish this battle…but believe me…that man that held you and the others…have friends….you must stay with us until we win the war."

You grunt as the Jedi begins to run after 'Obi-Wan', whipping you around like a piece of paper and pulling you behind him. You decide that hindering his run will only hurt you, so you run behind him as best you can. "You know…" you shout through the rain," all I wanted was to finish working and go home…"

The man that holds you does not answer and continues to run through the streets.

The door crashes inward and you are thrust through the opening as little more than a discarded piece of paper. The Jedi that held you enters the door after you like a flood…pushing against your back to get you further in the building. Obi-Wan enters last, still carrying your friend. The younger man looks around and then strides, purposefully, to the nearest area to lay her down…a small pile of material in the corner…and sets her down gently.

You rush to her side, shaking your wrist until the hand that holds you, releases you. "Jenessa?"

She pushes to a sitting position and grimaces. You lift her leg to look at it. The skin is browned, ragged in one or two places, but there is no blood….although there might be infection soon.

"She will be fine," the elder Jedi answers and a light is suddenly ignited. You glance up from your friend to see the man standing over the two of you. He sweeps his cloak to the side to replace his doused lightsaber at his belt. You see his waist…narrow in comparison with his shoulders…seeming to fill the room. His hair…long…you guess…is longer with the weight of water in it. His beard seems full…dark…and…you rise to your feet. You see men everyday…he is just one more…whether he carries a lightsaber or not. "And my name is Qui-Gon…Master Jinn if you must give me a title….there is no need to refer to me as 'the Jedi'. And my apprentice will address her wounds…"

"I didn't…" you turn to look at Obi-Wan. He bends down at Jenessa's feet to glance at her legs with a smile, he gently lifts her foot to look at her burned calf. "I never called you…the Jedi…and…what is he doing to her? You should let us go…"

"And where would you go for protection? Hmmm? The Galactic Police?" Obi-Wan answers. His hand wraps tightly around Jenessa's ankle. "I don't think you would want to walk in the front door of the sector house, would you? And I am simply going to clean and apply synthaflesh…."

You open your mouth to answer him, your hands flying to your hips. "And who are you?"

"I am Obi-Wan…"

"My apprentice…and you need not have voiced 'the Jedi' part, young one, I can hear your thoughts…" the Master bends at his waist, putting his hands on his hips as well. "And my apprentice is right…the Galactic Police would not offer you or your friend protection…"

"And you shouldn't either…we are…after all…just…prostitutes…" you spit back, leaning forward into his space. "Those men would not think anything of us…"

"Are you willing to take that chance?" Obi-Wan calls from the floor. "Prostitutes or not…you need our protection."

Qui-Gon lifts an eyebrow and does not speak.

You gape at the padawan and then turn to face the Master again. "We would slow you down…whatever is it you are doing…and wherever it is that you need to go…"

The Master tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "That is my problem to address, not yours…what troubles…."

Jenessa leans back on her arms and glances up at you and the Master Jedi. "She is worried about her son, Master Jinn."

You open your mouth and turn to admonish your friend. She meets your eyes until the synthaflesh is sprayed on her leg and her eyes slide shut and she swallows. "Thank you VERY much, Jen…"

"Your son…now…that changes things…" Qui-Gon straightens.

Obi-Wan squints at his Master and quickly finishes on Jen.

"How does that "change things"?" you ask, yelling again. "Does that just throw a wrench in your plan of protecting me that I have a son…?"

"Master…" Obi-Wan rises and takes off his cloak to hand it to Jen…she covers up her legs with it quickly.

"It would be the missing piece, Obi-Wan…" Qui-Gon turns and addresses his padawan, crossing his arms over his chest. The cloak that he wears is almost black with moisture. "The club that the Fire Dragons picked was too popular for their usual tastes….they prefer to be underground…in the background…they cannot act as the assissans that they have to be if they are out in the open too long…there had to be a reason that they chose that place…"

"Still Master…" Obi-Wan straightens his tunic and turns to address you. After a moment, he shakes his head, as if agreeing with Qui-Gon. "There were several other women there…several that would have stopped anyone…and grabbing her…actually slowed them down…"

"Exactly, Obi-Wan…grabbing our little friend here slowed their retreat…and it is not their style to use women as a shield. They wanted her…for some reason…"

You spin and look at your friend sitting on the floor. She is wrapped in a brown cloak amist the dark material on the floor. Your temper is reaching its high mark now. "Damn it…my name is Miranda…not her…or young one…or little friend…"

"Who watches your son, young one?" The Master Jedi turns and looks at you again. His eyebrow arches and his blue eyes seems so intense that they look like sapphires. "Who watches him while you work…?"

"I don’t think it is any of your business, Jedi…" you spit and retreat across the floor, your heels clacking in their heels.

"Well…" he answers, his voice getting louder. "Either it was you or someone close to you, little friend….that would be the only explination that would fit what my senses are telling me. They grabbed you specifically. You are a prostitute…they could have grabbed you all night…and yet…they waited until almost dawn. That to me says that they want who you can lead them to…and we walked in at the end of the night and interrupted what was to happen. And that means…"

His hands reach out and land on your shoulders. You shrug your shoulders to dislodge his hands, but he tights his hands. "Look, I don't know what you want…but leave my son out of this…"

"I would leave your son alone…but I do not think the men that were shooting at us would. Who watches your son."

You reach up and push against his chest to move away from him. His hands tighten and you whimper. "Answer me, Miranda…who watches your son…telling me might be the only prayer that he has right now."

You gasp and turn your head to look at Jenessa. Her mouth hangs open. The Jedi gets so close to you that you can smell the aura of wet cloak material and man that permeates the air around him. You almost shiver from the power that exudes from him. You turn around to see just his hair, his beard, his eyes…that strong neck…so powerful…and those eyes seems so sincere…so real…so…Lan… "The woman that usually watches him is sick…"

Qui-Gon glances over his shoulder to his apprentice. "Watch her friend, Obi-Wan, and continue to the Senate building…I will meet you there later this evening…if I am not there, contact me only if you feel danger. Understood, Padawan?"

"Watch my friend? Jenessa?" you turn to look at your fellow worker. Her blond hair is wet, hanging about her shoulders in almost tattered waves.

"She knows where Lan is as well, doesn't she, Miranda?" Qui-Gon asks, returning his gaze to you. "And as such, she needs to be protected. And you…you need to come with me."

"I'm going nowhere…"

"You are coming with me or I am going alone to collect your son, Miranda. I rather thought you would want to go with me."

You glare up at the Jedi. "If you drag him into this…if he has nothing to do with this…and one hair on his head is split from this…I don't care who you are…or what you are…you will pay for it. He is innocent…he is just a child."

Qui-Gon squints at you and nods. "I would not drag him into this if I didn't think that it was necessary…young one…"

You gulp, suddenly very cold. "Fine. Fine." Lifting your arms, you wrap them around yourself. He glances down at your clothing and then back up into your face quickly. "What?" you ask testily. "We are talking about my son's life…and you are looking at my clothes."

"You need to change. I'm sure that it fits well in the cloak of darkness, but…"

"Most men like my clothing, Master Jedi. "

"I am not most men."

"Master…" Obi-Wan suddenly appears at Qui-Gon's arm and the Master Jedi eases off of you. "We are losing time…"

"Quite right, Obi-Wan. Follow my orders…I will see you this evening." He turns his face to you again and his mouth hidden in that beard frowns. "Let's go…"

The rain hits your face just as hard and cold as it did just a few minutes ago. With a grunt you wipe at the water in your eyes. Qui-Gon pulls you down an alley and into a corner before he stops, pressing you back into a small alcove with his bulk. "Is this necessary?" you shout into his back.

"Very…I can feel we are being watched," he speaks back over his shoulder. Glancing up into his face, you can see water running down his face and dripping from his hair. "We will get along much better, young one, if you don't question me."

"And we would get along much better if you would tell me what the hell is going on, Jedi…I don't appreciate the fact that you are keeping me in the dark and that you talk of my son and those…those…"

"Madmen, I think is the word you are looking for, Miranda…"

You grunt and sigh as he grabs at your hand again and the two of you fly down the alley together. The night is lessening its grasp on the sky and yet the rain continues. He stops suddenly and you continue in front of him with momentum. Your heels slip on the wet pavement and you feel yourself going down, falling, only to have a strong, iron band arm wrap around your waist and draw you back into a wide, strong chest. It is like coming up against a wall. You feel his thick, bulging thighs against your hips and his clothed calves against your bare legs. Your face is buried in his tunic clad chest…the wet material heavy fills your senses. It is like being surrounded in all man. His hands reach down and curve under your buttocks…serving to lift you. Gods…how tall is this man…

"Easy, my little friend…watch and try and follow my lead."

You blink at the sound of his voice…it bubbles out of his chest to bless your ears. At this near distance, his hair looks like silver blessed black…heavy from the rain that still falls around you. Your legs are slippery…you feel the water run off of you skirt to course down your bare legs. And his eyes…his eyes are cornflower blue…gentle… "My home…"

"Is safe, I suppose, they would have searched there soon after you left." He mutters, turning around and letting you slide down his body to stand. "And stay behind me whenever possible, Miranda. Is your home close to here?"

"Yes…and my son…"

"Gods…don't tell me he was at your home," Qui-Gon frowns and turns around to check the alley. "That would not be the smartest thing in the galaxy, little one."

"No, No!" you answer, pushing against his back, with which you are presented again. "I do not leave him anywhere near my home…not usually. But Tra was sick tonight…and my landlady offered…she is not in the building with me…down the street…"

"Thank the Gods for small favors. Why do you ask of your home?"

"Why do you want my son…"

"What is the position of the woman that usually watches him? Where does she live…what company does she keep? I do not know what they want with your son, Miranda, only that my senses tell me that they do."

You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know anything besides that I she treats Lan well…and that she is not into drugs. And I have to ask of my home…you want me to change…I need to gather clothes for Lan…"

"We can do that after we gather your son," he answers equally strongly. "Show me to your landlady's home."

You glance up at the Jedi and frown. Your clothes are soaked through, you are cold, wet, and getting hungry…and your fear for your son is growing with each breath. This Jedi has convinced you that what he says is true. You are suddenly confronted with an image of your young son, cut and bruised laying on the ground. "Do you think…they wouldn't…"

"Once we gather him, little one," he begins and turns to face you. "Once we gather him, I can swear to his safety…"

"You would…"

"I will. Now…where is your landlady's home?"

You smile, just for a second at the infuriating Jedi and nod down the alley. "Down to the end of this alley and to the right…down about two blocks…"

"Then let's go…"

You press past Mrs. Ulliar and into the small alcove that serves as Lan's bedroom when he stays here. Your small son, his body still wrapped in his blanket and his small hands and feet are still bundled in his pajamas. With a sigh and a smile at his safety, you pick him up and cuddle him to your chest. His eyes blink open and you trace your finger down his chubby cheek to tickle under his chin. "Good morning, lovely," you whisper.

Qui-Gon's low voice sounds in the next room, and you know that he answers questions posed to him, but you pay him no heed. Your son is fine. You can feel the weight on your chest ease.

The air in the small alcove changes, tightens…as though there is another body in the room. Turning, you see the Jedi Master's bulk filling the doorway. His eyes meet yours and then fall to the bundle that you hold. His eyes change…slightly, soften and his mouth seems to turn up in a smile, but in an instant it is gone. "Is he fine, Miranda?"

"As right as rain…" you begin to answer and then realize that rain still falls outside. "I can't take him out in this…"

"He will be fine, little one, trust me."

You shake your head and glance down at your son. You smile as he reaches out to grab your hair. He is less than seven standard months old and is precious and innocent. "He is hungry when he wakes…"

"We don't have the time right now to feed him…" Qui-Gon moves forward and cups Lan's head gently. After a moment, the stiff movements of Lan's arms and legs ceases and the baby falls back asleep. You glare at the Jedi, knowing instinctively that he has done something. The Jedi Master stops you with a nod to your son's body. "Is there anything different about him…in the last day or two…anything different in his bags…his clothes?"

You shake your head with each word until you hear the word bag. "I haven't checked his bag…I haven't needed anything out of it in the last two days…"

Qui-Gon nods and moves over to the corner to pick up the bag. You watch his movements, curious.

"May I?" he asks quietly, holding up the bag.

"Now you ask permission for something?"

He shrugs and opens the bag. You watch his large hands dig through the clothes and bottles…formula and…Gods…his hands are as large as dishes, you think. You shake your head, but stop as you see something shiny in the folds of one of your son's outfits. "Wait!"

Qui-Gon lifts an eyebrow and puts down the bag, lifting the shiny object up to his eyes. "A crystal data chip…interesting….does Lan watch children's programming?"

"Very funny, Jedi…I don’t know what that is…"

He shakes his head. "My feelings tell me that this is what the men are looking for…and what my apprentice and I needed to stop from falling in the wrong hands. How your friend…" His eyes fly to yours and his hand falls to his saber. "Go to the window, Miranda…"

"What?" you ask, glancing down at Lan and back to the Jedi Master.

"We are in danger…go to the window…do it." Qui-Gon moves to the small screen that segregates off the alcove and glances toward the door. "Leave his things…"

You sense urgency in the way that the Jedi holds himself. Moving to the window, you open it, enough so that you can get out on the emergency stairs and ledge. Qui-Gon presses back, walking slowly until his shoulders are all you can see through the window. The rain pours down on your face and you try to cover Lan's small body with your own. After several breaths, Qui-Gon's legs appear out on the ledge with you and he glances at you and the child. "Give him to me, Miranda…"

"No." You might have trusted this man so far…but to hand your son over to him.

"Miranda…we are going to have to jump from here. I know I can land safely with him…are you as sure…" he crouches down next to you and sweeps your hair back from your eyes with a warm hand. His face is tight….he is obviously on edge. "We can't go through the door, little one…they wait for us there…and undoubtedly on the ground…I know you are thinking of that. I promise you. I will not drop him or harm him…I swear on my oath as a Jedi…I am making the choice of least harm to him…if I fight…you and he might be hurt…but if I retreat now…."

"Leave us here."

"No…if they find that you don't have it…and that you passed it on to me…they will kill you, my instincts tell me that," his hand brushes at your hair away from your eyes. "Trust me…let me carry him to the ground."

You close your eyes and then glance down at your son. Your son's face is slack in sleep….and Gods know that you don't want him to die this young. You look up at the Jedi Master and sigh. "I will trust you, Qui-Gon Jinn…"

He returns your pleading look with a smile and reaches out to gather Lan from you. The baby is taken and tucked into the Jedi's cloak… his head covered in the rough material. The hand that had traced your wet skin falls to enclose your hand. He walks to the edge of the ledge and glances down…you do the same and reach with both hands to latch onto the metal railing. Gods…it is long way down. "Don't think of the drop, little one…I will catch you…"

"You are holding…"

"Trust me, Miranda…" he sighs and suddenly…he is gone…all you see is his cloak whipping up in the dawn. You grunt and fly to the edge. The bastard just left you behind and took your son. Without a thought, you launch after him only to feel a warmth, a tingling in the air and your descent slows until…quietly…almost gently…your feet touch the ground and you find yourself upright and standing next to the Jedi Master. His smile is almost arrogant.

"You can't just keep putting him to sleep, Qui-Gon. He is hungry," you sigh and bounce your wakening son in your arms. Your back is resting against a wall…your legs are bent in front of you. Somehow you let this damnable Jedi Master convince you to hide out in this small shack community. Beside you, about five meters away a small family huddles, hiding from the falling raindrops. Qui-Gon stands a short distance away, digging through a pile of discarded metal pieces with several other men. His cloak rests next to you in a draped ball….his lightsaber hidden in the folds.

Jinn turns and shakes his head at you. "Do you have what you need to feed him?"

"Silly question, Jinn," you bite out and slowly unbutton your shirt. Qui-Gon watches you for a moment and at the last moment before your shirt opens, he turns his back on you to dig through the scrap pile again. After several moments during which you only pay your suckling son attention, the Jedi approaches and hefts two of the pieces of scrap into a sort of lean-to. You hold Lan closer and cover your nakedness as best you can. You might make a living from men…but having one watch while you spend a private moment with your son is a little more than you want to do.

He glances at you and at the small head that you hold cupped in your hand. You can see his large, broad chest heave with an inhaled breath and then he disappears away from you again….this time to return within minutes with two pieces of ratty material. He drapes them over the open ends of the shelter and then approaches you. Qui-Gon squats in front of you and nods toward the lean-to. "It will afford you some privacy and keep Lan dry. If the wind changes, where you sit will be soaked in minutes."

You glance over at the lean-to and nod. "And you?"

"I will remain outside…"

"In the rain."

"In the rain…Miranda…you seem to have a problem with that course of action," his voice is deeper than it was a few minutes ago. And he appears more soaked, if it is possible, than he was a few minutes before…water literally flows out of his hair in torrents…the shorter hairs on his forehead are plastered to his skin. His tunic is almost transparent with moisture….and you can see the ridges of his chest muscles. "I must remain outside."

"I won't bite…at least not unless I am paid to do so, Master Jinn…"

You jibe hits its mark and he draws back a little. Quickly, you change tactics to calm the waters you stirred. "Your clothes are soaked and you look tired."

He leans closer and talks in a quiet tone. "Jedi do not get tired, young one. We can continue indefinitely…and as for the weather…"

"I would feel better if you would at least let yourself dry, Qui-Gon."

With a sigh, he tilts his head down. "I have a feeling you would pester me until I do, isn't that right, my little friend?"

"Yes."

"Then I will join you…but realize that if I sense danger you and I must be ready to move within minutes."

You rise and approach the little lean-to, pushing the material the side. It is dark and smells slightly of oil. It is not the classiest place that you have resided in…but it is certainly dry. You brace Lan against your breast and bend to enter, sliding in as far as you can go. The way that he built the structure…the back is in a small alcove and its front is only visible if a person were truly looking for its particular structure. You are surrounded by small families. As you settle, what little light of day that ekes through the clouds is blocked from your view as the Jedi Master crawls in after you, tucking the material back across the entrance.

You shiver as wind whips across the back of the structure and Qui-Gon silently curses and eases his head back outside. After just seconds, he pulls it back in and motions for you to tuck the material across the back tightly. "The wind has changed direction and the rain is falling at a faster rate…I think we will be safe…only a fool would look for us in a rain like this…"

"And only a fool would remain out in it."

"I have a feeling that was directed at me, little one," he smiles ruefully. "But who is more foolish…the fool, or the fool that follows him?"

You shake your head and wince. Lan is getting his first tooth and occassionally the little lad likes to exercise his newly found weapon. You ease him away from your breast and move the material over your other one to allow him to latch onto a different nipple. But he will have none of it. His lusty cries fill the lean-to in seconds. You sigh and try to entice him to take you again. Muttering quietly, you whisper little endearments in quiet tones until Lan, his alligator tears drying on his face, quietly accepts what it is that he truly wants.

"Is he okay?"

You lift your eyes to see that Qui-Gon is leaning back against the wall, his long legs bent in front of him and his arms resting on the upturned knees. In the dark, he seems larger. "He is fine…just stubborn like his father…"

Jinn appears confused and tilts his head to the side. You know the look…you have seen it before and usually you don't care. You don't care what people think of your son…the only thing that is important is that Lan knows who he is and you know who he is…but for some reason…it bothers you that Qui-Gon thinks that your son is a byproduct of a client. With a sigh, and turning your head down to look at Lan, you begin: "My fiancee and I moved to Coruscant about 18 months ago. We were going to get married, but John wanted to get some money together before we went through with it. We lived together…and John was killed about 15 months ago. "

Qui-Gon nods, quiet. "And you couldn't go home?"

"No…it was against both our families that we did what we did in the first place. And to come home pregnant, alone…and unwed? No."

"And you work on the streets…"

"That is private, Jedi," you say, as angry as you can while keeping your son happy.

"I see that information as no more personal than what you just told me, Miranda. For some reason you felt a need to tell me what you did…so…tell me the rest." Jinn leans forward into the lean-to. He nods to Lan. "You do it to keep him fed and housed, don't you?"

"Yes," you stroke your son's head. After a moment, you glare at Qui-Gon. "And no, I tried to get other positions, other jobs….but child care…is outrageous…and working on the streets brings in a lot of money, Jedi. I can feed him and cloth him and give him a home. Believe me, I have tried other avenues…" you sigh angrily. "No…you don't need to hear anymore…and hell, I don't want to tell you anymore. I do what I do because I need to do it….THAT is all you need to know."

You feel a hand on your shoulder and see Qui-Gon's blue eyes in the dusk of the lean-to and expect a lecture. He just nods and sighs. "I know…little one, I know. Peace…"

You shake your head and glance back down at your son.

**

"Gods…could the weather get any worse, Jinn?" you ask. Lan is sleeping, almost peacefully in a small box that you found and lined with Qui-Gon's tunic. It keeps the tunic dry and it keeps Lan dry and that is all you ask. The Jedi that the tunic belongs to is seated next to the opening of the lean-to, barechested and drying. He pulls his head back in the structure and nods.

"If the color of the sky is any indication, yes…yes it can get worse…and it will. Lan?"

"Is asleep," you answer, yawning.

"And you look like you could use some time to nap as well, Miranda…and I feel that we are safe for the time being. Go ahead…"

With a sigh, you nod tiredly and glance around at the area under the lean-to. The ground is cold and you don't want to complain, but…

Qui-Gon grunts from behind you and a pair of arms wrap around you to turn you around to face him. He is on his knees, almost bent over from the constricting height of the structure. You gasp out a question, but he answers you by reaching out with one hand to spread out his cloak on the ground. His arms fall away from you and you shiver from the return of cold air.

"Take off your shirt and wrap up in my inner tunic, little one," he turns and faces away from you. With only a moment of hesitation, you do as he suggests. You tie it shut and he turns back around, taking in your shivering form. "Are you cold? Still…?"

"Well…it is weather the likes of which I don't think the Gods have seen out there and we are in a lean-to…in the middle of a rainstorm…yes, yes I am cold…but…" you turn and tuck the outer tunic and obi around Lan. You yipe as the Jedi's arms wrap around your waist and you are pulled back into his chest.

"Face Lan and try and curl your legs around the box…"

"Why?"

"Because it is the only physical way that I can lay behind you and remain under the lean-to, my little friend. You will be warmer and I think Lan will be warmer as well with us buffering him from the wind. We have eight standard hours before we meet my Padawan and it is slightly warmer…"

"Fine."

You nearly spit the word and lay down, wrapped around your baby's sleeping nest. Only Lan's face is visible in the folds of the Jedi's tunic. You lay down, staring at Lan and then close your eyes as you feel the Jedi's warm and muscular thighs curling around behind yours…spooning you into the box. You want to move closer to the box…but can't…the Jedi's warmth keeps you where you are. You only like to be with men when you are in control…and in this situation, in this place…you are definitely not in control.

You blearily check on Lan and then fall into a restless sleep.

You feel the flat surface of the bed dip and you jolt awake. In the darkness of the new morning, you find a Jedi sitting on the side of you. With a grunt, you shift and look at him and realize that he is holding Lan against his bare chest with one arm. His other hand rubs at the bridge of his nose. Alarmed, you sit up in the bed, throwing the sheets asunder. "Jinn?" you rasp out.

He shrugs, tired. "He has not started to fuss yet. But I can tell that he is hungry…I can feel it in the Force."

You let the fight and flight bleed out of your body and with a sigh, you reach out to take Lan from Qui-Gon's arms. Your son comes easily into your arms and you can see that he is barely awake…barely conscious. With a sleepy grin, you notice that he is not hot to the touch. In the haze of sleep, you also reach to unlatch your shirt and bare your breast to your son…who latches onto and lustily sucks at your nipple.

It is only after your son starts to suckle that you notice that Qui-Gon has not moved. Lifting your eyes from your son, in the dim, you see Qui-Gon gazing at your son and at the intimate moment that you share with him. After moment, he drags his eyes to yours. Silence drags past you, sounding like a symphony, as you watch him vascillating his eyes from your son to your gaze. You can tell that he thinks. "Qui-Gon?"

He meets your eyes and finally shakes his head. "It is special…this…to you"

"Very," you say quietly, almost shyly.

Qui-Gon glances back down at the child in your arms…at your breast…and nods. "I have never witnessed…"

"That is obvious, Qui-Gon…I never thought a Jedi could be…nervous….but you are. What… you face death…but you have a hard time with a woman allowing her son to suckle her breast?"

He grins, but reaches over to gently trace the hair on your son's head with a lone finger. "Jedi do not fear."

"No…but you feel uneasy," you state, and glance back at him. He rubs his neck with a lazy hand as his eyes drift away from you. "Are you comfortable in the chair, Qui-Gon?"

"Not entirely, but it will do…why do you ask?" he sighs as he finishes rubbing his neck.

"I thought Jedi do not complain."

"I am stating a fact, little one. I am not entirely comfortable on the chair. Chairs are not made for sleeping…they are made for sitting. Why do you ask?" he presses, with a half-grin on his face.

"Grouchy in the morning, are you, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn? Try and keep your growling low so as to not entirely wake Lan," you warn quietly. "I asked so if you wanted to move to the bed, you could."

"I would not ask you to leave it, Miranda…I do have a few more manners than that,"he answers. His half-smile, tucked so attractively into the recesses of his mustache, widens into a full grin.

"I wouldn't leave it, Jinn," you answer back, glancing back down at your son. Your voice lowers to a scratchy whisper. "Get into the bed, Jedi."

He lifts a hand to brush his thumb down your cheek. "Little one…you and I both know that there is some…" he emphasizes the word some with a rumbled timbre. "Physical attraction between us. In the shelter this morning…"

"I know…as much as I hate to bring up harsh facts at a quiet time like this, Qui-Gon," you state, easing Lan closer to your body. "I have my son in my arms. And I spend my life now denying attraction…"

"If I wanted you, Miranda…there would be no way that you could deny me. I guarantee that," he says, menacingly, but for some reason, you don't feel the least bit threatened.

You smile widely, almost…snidely…into his face. You can feel a level of equal footing being given to you now…here…in this situation with Qui-Gon Jinn. "But you would not force me."

"No. There would be no coercion needed. You want me as well. As I seem to recall, it was your lips on my chest and you hips rocking against mine this morning."

The words are uttered in a matter-of-fact tone that is warm…coated…promising. And the words are entirely truthful. You would not need to be coerced. Hell, you would probably not even need to be asked, given the right time and place. It is a strange feeling…not one that is unknown. It has been months…in fact, since John died…that you have actually wanted a man. Normally it is the man's want that you use…to your own advantage. Your mind was and is always on your son, the bills, keeping a roof over your head. Lan is everything that you live for now.

At that thought, you look back down at your son. He has fallen back asleep, his mouth slack on your body. Smiling, you turn and quietly rise to your feet, padding across the floor to lay Lan in the crib. He moves his lips, as if dreaming of suckling and shifts his legs for only a moment before he is dead asleep once more. Turning, you face the bed.

Qui-Gon sits atop the covers, one of his legs bent on the stark whiteness of the cotton coverlet and his other foot flat on the floor. In his dark leggings, those legs seem to go on forever…long and lean. His chest is bare and you can see, barely in the low light, the angular shape…the slope of his body…lines from his waist to his chest to his shoulders. The man is broad all over…tall and muscular…and dark. Dark with the length of his hair, the dusting of his beard on his chin and neck; dark with the fur on his chest…light and just enough to make you want to curl your hands there. You know his body is warm…you felt it this morning…but you can see that warmth as you stare at him. His body..the way he sits speaks of heat…of control…of power.

Of pride and of control as well.

He lifts his hand and beckons you across the floor. He has been watching you too. As you near him, he asks. "Lan? Is he asleep again?"

"Completely, Qui-Gon."

"Do you still wish me in the bed?"

"Do you wish not to have a stiff neck in the morning…that is if Jedi can have a stiff neck."

"We can…and I will if I remain in the chair," he smiles.

You nod and approach the bed, stepping to the right of him and slipping back into your previous perch on the bed. With a gentle hand, you cover yourself with the sheets. He glances at you from under hooded eyes and rises to pace around to the other side of the bed. Within seconds, he has slipped under the covers to join you. "Little one…if you did not have a problem with me in the bed to begin with…why did you not ask me to join you earlier?"

"You headed for the chair. Who am I to argue with a Jedi? A Jedi Master at that?" you answer back, cheekily, rolling on your side to glance at him.

"I see. Let stubbornness tend to itself: that is your method," he says and lays flat on his back. With the material tucked about his hips, it is a guess as to whether he wears any clothes. The thought, surprisingly, makes you mouth go dry. If Jenessa could see you now, she would be surprised as hell. Who would have thought that you would want a Jedi…the first man that your body would boil for in a year would be a man that could conceivably have you arrested.

"Am I?" he asks, quietly as you sit watching in the dark.

"Are you what?" you ask suspiciously.

"Am I the first man that you have wanted in a year."

You frown in the dark.

He quickly turns on his side to face you. The sound of scraping cotton covers fills the air around you. He amends his words quickly. "Again, little one…you were projecting loudly. I cannot apologize for hearing what amounted to a shout in my mind. If it makes you feel better…I want you as well…and I WILL not admit how long it has been since I have wanted someone like this." He lifts a hand and brushes the back of his knuckles down your face. "You are not used to talking like this."

"Not with a man in bed, Jedi. My nights are usually do not lend themselves to conversation." You sigh as his fingers brush at your chin. "This is strange…and not…well it is just strange."

He smiles. "And I am not used to wanting to make love to a young unwitting prostitute with a very young son. I think we are on even ground."

"You are different."

The words leave your mouth before you have a chance to stop them. He stops stroking your face and lets his hand drop to the material between you. He sighs and then reaches to cup your waist in his hand. His touch is familiar and practiced. Contrary to what you have heard of Jedi…which is that they are celibate…this Jedi appears well versed in handling women. His hand slides along the cool surface of the material until your buttock is cupped in his hand and he pulls you to him. Your body seems pliable…not under your control…and molded to his as his hot skin and solid muscles press against you. He presses a small kiss to your forehead and sighs.

"I am different right now."

"Why?"

"Do you really search for the answer to that, Miranda? Do you want to know?"

"Yes. I want to know what turned a Jedi Master from an argumentative, overbearing man to one that is…I don't know…gentle? Caring?"

He nods and turns on his back, pulling you until you are nestled against his flank. It is a cuddle position and you momentarily are taken aback at the familiarity of the gesture. You fight the feeling of pushing away from his chest and bolting from the bed. When he uses his body as a sexual object…as something to attract a woman…you can handle it. When he doesn't…you sigh and try and relax. After all, you did offer him space in the bed.

"It was a combination of many things. Lan is one. I have not been around a baby previously…not for an extended period of time. And to watch you with him…it is as special for me as it is for you…in a different manner of speaking. I can feel your love for him…it is pure. And pure love is not felt often. It is also you. I can sense your insecurity…the reason why you argue and push others away…I can feel your pain at John's loss…and the drive in you to succeed in raising Lan healthy and without want. You try to come across harsh and yet you ache…and project…love and compassion. You can't hide what is in your core, Miranda…not from me."

He takes a deep breath and you settle in closer to his body. This is interesting.

"It is the mission that I will have to do tomorrow night. And what I am afraid that I will have to ask you to do."

"You are going into the Nebula, aren't you? You do know what kind of club that is, don't you, Qui-Gon?"

"A…pet's club, as I understand it."

"A place where couples…play…some roughly…others with some level of…taste. But it is commonplace to see men and women there in leather and chains."

Qui-Gon looks at you out of the side of his eyes. "Yes. You understand these places?"

"Hell yes. Jenessa and I have worked in the Nebula before…had…dates…there. I'm not quite sure that a Jedi will fit in there well, though, Qui-Gon."

"Exactly," he says, drawing the word out. "I think I will need your help. I must infiltrate the club and find where the Fire Dragons get their information. Only by 'plugging the leak', can we say that this mission is at an end."

"You need me to go there with you and act as your….pet?"

"Or the other way around, Miranda…it makes no difference to me."

You nod and reach out to trace your finger down his midline. His hand reaches to do the same to your cheek. He continues while his hand strokes your skin. "That is why I am different, Miranda. I…regret is the only word that I can think of…asking you to accompany me there…it will be a hard…and dangerous…"

"But it is the only way that I will be able to return home and let Tra watch my child without her or I or Lan being in danger…correct?"

"Yes."

"Then let me sleep on it, Jedi. If that is the decision that I have to make…Lan already lost his father…"

"And that is the heart of the matter, Miranda. I don't wish him to lose his mother…but both situations are dangerous. Leaving while we do not know the particulars of the leak leaves all in the chain of contact open to…and if you go in there with me…which, consequently, will increase the odds of success…will expose you to danger as well…"

You smile as your hand encounters the waist of his leggings. "You are worried about me?"

"Yes. I am. I think about the lives that my missions touch, Miranda. I will still accomplish my mission, but I will consider the ramifications of my actions," he says, his stomach muscles contracting under your touch. His hand lands on yours as you start to move your hands lower on his body. The heat below calls to you.

He turns on his side quickly and cups your chin, tilting your head up. Suddenly, without warning, his lips land on yours. It is not a hard kiss, but it is not a gentle brushing of lips either. First there is hot breath, then smooth lips hidden in rough whiskers and finally, the complete cover of your lips with his. His hand anchors you to him, holding your neck; his other hand wraps over your waist. All you can feel is him…his hard chest…his arms…gods they are like steel…his legs…solid muscle…hands like a prayer…your hands feel his silky hair…that beard…you can feel his jaw moving as he slowly devours you….one drifts low to touch at the warm skin just above his leggings…your fingers ache to slide beneath the material…to touch at what you know will be perfect.

Your world slowly tilts as he rolls you over on your back, kissing thoroughly all the while. He is above you, his arms framing you…his hair falls around your face…cushioning you in a curtain of silk. You raise your hands to push back his hair. When he pulls away, you smile at him. "If you want me?" you ask, mocking his earlier words. You can feel his erect cock pushing against your thigh. Heat and steel…you know it will feel as silky as his hair on the surface.

"Do you understand what is being asked of you?"

You tilt your head back and glance at the ceiling. God save you from overprotective Jedi Masters. "Yes, Master Gallia, I understand what is being asked of me."

You turn to glance at Adi and see that her eyes are fixed, almost coolly on you. You know that she does not approve of your dress…what you wear…and she does not approve of Qui-Gon involving you in this mission. But she does understand, as Jinn and Kenobi do, that including you in this mission will increase their odds of success. You know the Nebula. They do not.

You know how to fit in. They definitely do not.

Your clothes are half hidden under the coat that you wear. Qui-Gon sent for the in-house wardrobier this morning and you were quickly outfitted with clothes that would befit the role you will have to play this evening. He also asked for a pair of pants and shirt for you as well. The leather skirt is skin-tight…the leather vest that you wear covers almost nothing. The straps cross over the top of your shoulders and chest. Your hair is up and you have applied make-up to mask your features. Yes, you know how to fit in there at that club.

They need you. Besides, what does a Jedi know of club life, you think.

"How well do you know Master Jinn?"

The question is surprising given that you know that Jedi can read minds. With a surprised smile, you turn to answer her. The stance she has adopted stops you cold. Her thin, well-muscled form is tucked neatly into her tunic and her hair is immacculately arranged, but her eyes are cold…very very cold. "Not very well…only for two days."

"Has he been a client of yours?"

The tone of her voice sends shivers down your spine. This woman does not like you. And only because of your misplaced sense of pride do you answer her honestly…but not without sarcasm. "No, he has not been a client of mine…I thought your precious Jedi Code forbids carnal contact."

"It is no concern of yours what our Code forbids and what it allows. Are you truthful with your answer?"

"If I was not, would I admit it?" you answer back saucily.

"Probably not," she gives you a cold smile to match her icy look.

The door to the bedroom opens and stops further conversation. And turning you realize that Jedi have a lot more knowledge of club life then you think that they do. You can hear Obi-Wan's and Jenessa's voice and realize that they have moved towards the outer room of the suite. You stare only at Qui-Gon…and for some reason, you know that it would be only him that you would stare at even if he were surrounded by a thousand men.

He stands, framed, in the open doorway to the bedroom…behind him is only darkness. The dim light in the main room plays across the tight leather pants that he wears….the shiny black shirt. It must be silk…or…shiny cotton…it is thin and barely buttoned…showing most of his chest…or at least most of the chistled muscles. The leather hugs, blesses…hell…worships his thighs and waist…and as he shifts his legs, you see that it cups his buttocks as well. Shiny. Flashy.

You walk toward him. As you near, you see that his beard is trimmed closely and his hair is neatly combed…and a small braid of hair lies along the top of his head. He seems taller and, dressed in black, more dangerous. His eyes follow you…your swinging hair and swaying hips, until you stop only a few feet from him.

His chest is golden…looking like liquid fire under the cool ice of the black shirt….everything…and the heat…Gods the heat…it moves off of him in waves…his eyes…so blue…almost perfect sapphire jewels. Damn he looks fine.

"Little one?" he asks lowly.

You put your hand on your hip and glance up at him. Does he know? Does he know that the very sight of his broad shoulders and thin waist…long, lean legs…thighs…make you wet, make you want to touch, feel, grab and take? Does he?

His half grin tells you yes. "Are you ready to go?" he continues, not waiting for an answer.

With a smile, you lift your hand to trace the skin from his clavicle to his upper stomach. His smile widens to a wolfish mutant of a grin. You can feel the muscles under your hand tense and release as your finger leaves them. "As ready as I can ever be," you answer back, softly. He nods once and raises his hand to enclose yours. His eyes leave you and stare over your shoulder at Master Gallia. His next words address her.

"We will return this evening…the mission will be complete. Master Billoba…she will watch Lan?"

Adi crosses her arms over her chest and nods. "As it was decided, Master Jinn. The child will be watched, and protected if need be."

You smile and release a breath. Qui-Gon meets your eyes again and gives you a nod of reassurance. There is little else to do as he leads you by your hand to the door and to the silent corridor beyond it.

Jedi definitely know more of club life than you would have suspected that they would, you decide, turning from the bar to venture back across the floor to the small sunken area that you and Qui-Gon, Jenessa and Obi-Wan share. The leather collar around your neck is tight enough to remind you of your 'position' as Qui-Gon's pet. As you near him, he reaches up to grab the small, thin, leather strap that is connected to your collar. He gives it a slight pull and you saunter to him. With a small smile, you sit just to the side of his seated large form.

"Miranda?" he asks, quietly, leaning over to tip the drink you have brought back from the bar to your lips. You raise a hand to hold the glass, but he yanks on the strap. Immediately, you are chastised and lower your hand. He is the only one that will serve you.

"He is to the left of the bar, Qui-Gon," you say quietly.

"Master…" Obi-Wan offers, leaning forward. His hand pets Jenessa's hair. "We should approach him."

Qui-Gon removes the glass from your lips and leans forward to lick at the remaining drops of wine that stain your lips. You can tell that Obi-Wan is slightly taken aback by his Master's actions. When he finishes, the Master leans back and strokes at you cheek. He glances over the table at Obi-Wan for only a moment. "We will not have to approach him, Padawan. He will approach us. Appear as though you are…"

"Distracted with our company?" Obi-Wan asks, grinning. "That is in direct contradiction to the Code, Master…if I remind you…"

"Padawan," Qui-Gon says, as he continues to stroke your cheek. "We shall do what me must. Even at the expense of our Code. But I do not sense that you have a problem with this."

"Not in the least, Master," Obi-Wan answers.

Qui-Gon shakes his head and then glances back at you. "He approaches. He has been interested in our little party here for the last standard hour. When he enters this area, I want you to do only what I say, when I say it, Miranda…is that understood? He cannot suspect that you are Lan's mother or Tra's friend. I would protect you…but…it would be at the loss of the success of this mission."

"But Tra is…" you say, quietly, your fingers digging into the hot, smooth fabric covered surface of his thigh.

His eyes cloud momentarily and you know what he is going to say before he does. You gulp…Tra is dead. He nods and his eyes are kind. You take a couple of deep breaths and swallow the tears in your throat. His voice holds a deep, hoarse tone. "Tra is dead, little one. I'm sorry."

You look in his eyes and nod. "Bastards…"

He grips at the back of your neck. "Hold on to that drive…release the fury, Miranda…it is coursing through you…I can taste it. If you hold onto it…you will falter…just keep your mind on the mission."

With a sigh, you lower your head and feel his thick fingers stroking at your skin. After a minute, you nod. You will keep your mind on this and beat these bastards at their own game. His fingers stop and slide along your chin to cup your jaw. "They are here, little one…"

A pair of legs appear next to you and you keep your eyes on Qui-Gon's only by strength of will. You can feel instead of see, the Master's head tilt back to address the trespassers. "To what do I owe this rude interruption?" The voice that Qui-Gon uses is dark, harsh….like a rumble of thunder.

A voice, low…menacing…wafts over you. "I see that there is an extra seat here….figured I would join you."

"We like being alone," Obi-Wan answers, and you glance over to catch Jenessa's gaze. She looks scared.

"Well, you are going to like being with people. You didn't pay for this den…you gotta share it. And I like your tastes in women…" A hand brushes at your hair…it is different from Qui-Gon's…rougher…harsher…

Qui-Gon pulls on your leash and you find yourself levered between his legs. Your legs bend around the pillow that he sits on, curling into the soft fabric. "You like to watch, I take it…"

"I like to watch," the voice confirms.

You feel Qui-Gon settle back on the cushion, his bulk settling the plush material. He appears to think about the offer given to him. You can see, peripherally, his hand lifting to stroke at his beard. After what seems a year, he answers. "Fine…but this woman…" he pulls on your leash until your cheek rests against his thigh. "This woman….is off limits to touch."

"Hey, man…I said…I just like to watch. I don't want no trouble." The man steps past you and sits on the low cushion at the back of the little sunken den.

You rub your cheek into Qui-Gon's solid muscle, feeling the hardness of the powerful ligaments and the smoothness of the leather. It feels hot and you close your eyes to revel in the feeling. Qui-Gon lays a hand on your head. With his other hand, you hear him roll up his sleeve on his left arm. The man across from you leans forward and you open your eyes to see his arms resting on his knees. "Man…that is a Blue Dragon tattoo."

Qui-Gon stops stroking your head and lets you sit up. Your eyes open and you glance at the man sitting across from you. He is non-descript, dark haired and bullish looking. The Jedi Master's hand brushes back the edge of his rolled shirt. "Yes it is….you are familiar?"

"Very, man….very. They got some of the best merchandise…and you don't mess with them…not if you want your life to mean something."

Qui-Gon nods with a half smile. "I see you know my gang's reputation well."

"I weren't born yesterday," the man says.

"You deal with the Fire Dragons?" Obi-Wan asks. His hands are playing with Jenessa's hair.

"All the time…why?" the man asks.

"We were supposed to meet with one tonight," Qui-Gon says conversationally. You feel his hands fall to your leash. "You wouldn't…." he shrugs and glances around the room.

"Hey man…I get you the contact here, you give me first choice on merchandise…say for the next standard month?" the man rubs at his chin.

Qui-Gon thinks for a moment and then nods. The man smiles suddenly and then snaps his finger in the air. A woman appears from the peripheral of the den in which you sit. As she skirts by you, you smell the heavy aroma of spice and musk. The woman bends to talk to the man. Within seconds, she is sent scurrying out of the den and into the thrumming music and smoky, hidden dens beyond the perimeter of your little world. The man grins widely.

"Jan will find the man you look for…and bring him back here."

Qui-Gon returns the smile. "And until then?"

"Hey man…" the vendor shrugs. "This is an entertainment club…let your 'pet' entertain you…and you entertain me by letting me watch."

Jinn grips your leash tighter and pulls you close enough that you can see the individual colors in his beard…even in the reddish dim light of the room. "That sounds like a good idea if I ever heard one…"he sighs, speaking lowly…almost for your ears only.

He turns his head slowly, sliding his lips along the ridge of you jaw…your eyes slide shut against the hot waves of breath and the burning trail of his mouth. Soon, his face buries in the hair at the side of your head and his lips enclose the lobe of your ear. Shivers course down your spine…driven by the scrape of his teeth and the incredible hear of his mouth. You sigh and raise your hands to grasp at his chest. You have a feeling you are in for a wide ride. Qui-Gon's low voice answers you…directly in your ear.

"You have no idea. Play along, Miranda."

You gasp as his lips brush back and forth under your ear. His hand, which until now has been lying on his leg, rises to burrow under your hair. He murmurs, quietly, well under the beating bass around you. The sound hums, but his voice makes your heart stutter and your blood boil. "Play with me, Miranda."

"Qui-Gon…" you mutter back, as your hand burrow under the thin material of his shirt. The heat and the coarse hair make you ache to remove the obstructing loose material. "We should…pay…attention…"

"The Force will alert me to someone coming, little one. I can do two things at once…" he whispers, letting his lips graze your skin. "Play with me. Give him a show so he does not suspect us."

You tilt your head to let his lips slide down to the column of your throat. With a groan, you let your hands slide from his chest, along the lines that his shirt provides, to the hard reality of his thighs. The muscles are tight, strong…large and powerful. Under the cool leather, it is molten metal that exists…so hot and so sturdy. You inhale through your nose and smell the aura of male and musk…the very essence of him.

He suddenly pulls the leash on your neck and you arch away from him. Your back is arched and your breasts are thrust forward for his view…for whatever he wishes. You see him through heavy veiled lids:

Surrounded in red, muted light, he appears dangerous. He appears like a forger of metal for the Gods. A thin line of sweat has formed on his forehead and you ache to run your hands over it…to cool the skin…or to take some of the heat. His eyes appear predatory…his lips hidden in the close cropped mustache look like they are slack…the tongue that swipes at his lower lip proves that theory. His neck is thick…his shoulders broad…and the thighs under your hands feel…you can't stop thinking of his thighs.

Your hands slide up to just shy of the juncture of his thighs. His hands tighten and force your breasts further in an arc toward him. His order sounds like it comes from miles away: "Touch me."

You whimper as his other hand releases the leash and falls to trace at the skin just above your right breast…just above the line of leather there. The tip of his finger lowers to circle your nipple. It is sudden, unexpected, and the touch is like fire. The tightening of the nipple is painful, and the confines of the leather make friction a reality. Your center floods quickly with liquid want…and you sit, powerless to move and equally mindless of moving…while he takes his time in tormenting you.

"Touch. Me." He says, deeply….as an order. "Don't make me punish you, pet."

Without being able to see, you position does not allow a line of vision to his crotch, you slide your hands up to cup the rock hard bulge in his pants. His breathing increases in tempo as yours stops. Blindly, you stroke at the length, laid against his thigh. Gods…you want to touch his skin…not the slippery texture of the pants. You want to…taste him.

He loosens his grip on the leash and you let your head level. His hand ceases its infernal circling of your nipple and lowers to cup the whole breast. He tilts his head down, looking at you through lowered lids. You arch your back as the hand…its heat…floods the area around your breast. You squirm, aching to slide onto his lap…the moan that leaves your lips is loud even to your own ears. And the length of him…so large and hard. If he only knew what you want to do…you lick your lips.

You let your hands drift to the waist of his pants…the ice leather covers the heat of him. The latch releases and you slide the zipper down. You can feel the catch of every tooth of the metal. His voice sounds like it comes through a tunnel. "Release me, pet."

His fingers pinch the covered nipple, bringing you to the edge of pleasure/pain. You gasp, his name….Gods…and grip at his thighs. When he releases your breast, you almost yipe….but it is the call of want, not pain. He shifts his hips to allow the material about his lap to gap and open. You don't need to be told what to do; your hands travel to the apex of his thighs with ease and without coaxing. The skin under the close…the now hot leather….is moist, hard, silky and eager. His breath stops as you ease your hand around his length…around the width of his member. His stomach quivers, contracts and you see a lone rivet of sweat course down his midline to his quivering, contracted stomach. "Qui-Gon?" you breathe.

He takes a deep breath and your hand tightens. His cock is so hard that you can almost feel his pulse in it. Before he can answer you, you use your other hand to hold back the edges of his pants. His hands are restlessly fondling your breasts; their tips brushing the slivery covered skin. As you hold back the material, the ruddy tip of his cock becomes visible. With a lick to you lips you ease away from him. His hand flies to your leash and tightens it, holding you in a position half reclining, half sitting in front of him. "Don't move away from me," he threatens lowly.

"I promise…you will not be disappointed," you implore, as you settle to your knees. "I promise you will love it."

You press back the material and allow his cock to be open to the air. One hand enters into the still concealing material to cup and hold his scrotum, gently tracing the heavy sack with your nails. His hand falls from your breast to fall along side his spread thighs. All you can think of how much you want to taste him, to run your tongue over the length of him…to tease him. His moan, as you gently blow breath across the tip of him, is enough to make your thighs quake. Gods you have wanted to do this since….

His hand lands on the back of your head as you use one hand to offer his cock to your lips. You know what want tastes like; you encounter it all the time. But your want…your want to lick him, your want to…you ease his head between your lips and tilt your head back to glance at him is something that you do not experience often. He is reclined, glancing at you through half-closed lids. Your lips spread, trying to take all that you can of his throbbing member. You balance your hands on his thighs, keeping you levered off of him. You ease him in, allowing your tongue to trace his length in your mouth. You squeeze his sack gently, as you work him.

But it is the look that he gives you…heated, almost lazy…as if he cannot move…as if he does not want to move that makes your own want flow from within you. His hair lies against his upper chest, covered in that shiny black material. His strong thighs frame you, and the clear lines of his musculature are plain to see. His tongue sneaks out to lick at his lips as though he is cotton mouthed. And the way that his hand tightens in your hair. Your hair ruffles as he draws it off of your cheek. He wants to see your cheeks hallowing with your suckles.

And you know….

Know as sure as the sun will rise on the morrow.

That he has wanted this since the morning in the …and possibly…before.

"Ah, pet…" he moans as you sink your mouth completely on his length. "Gods…"

You pull your head back and allow him to rest just inside your mouth. With a hum, you tease him before you sink your lips back down his length. It feels like swallowing iron velvet steel and want in one. You could do this for the rest of your life.

/but you can't, love/

You smile around his cock. In my head again, are you, Qui-Gon, you think.

/aye, little one, and aching…Gods you are good/

I want you…I want to feel this cock inside of me, you moan in your head, tightening your fingers on his sack.

His eyes disappear from your vision as his head tilts back. /tonight…Gods…your tongue….tonight, Miranda…but cursed Force…our man approaches/

You pull back your head to lick at his engorged tip. With a sigh, you ease your hands to his legs. The man sitting next to you groans as you let the entire ruddy length slip from your warm mouth. "Man…I want that on me."

Qui-Gon's deep voice, hoarse with arousal fills the air. "Not unless you value your life. She is mine."

His hand reaches down to cup your cheek, ruffling your hair. His eyes are intense. /stay by me, Miranda/

Smiling, you lean back to rise to kiss his lips, only to have the small sanctum invaded by people in various stages of arsenal wear. To the side of you, Obi-Wan tenses, you can see his legs tightening and his arms readying to spring. Jenessa appears dazed. Qui-Gon raises his eyes to glance at the men. You raise your hands to tuck his member back into his pants and secure the zipper. "You are the Fire Dragons? Dgad?"

The second man hits on the smaller man in front of him to move. "I am Dgad. You wanted to see me? You do realize that this is our territory."

Qui-Gon waits until you have his pants secured before he rises and pets your head. "I know…my friend here…" he sweeps his hand to the side to indicate Obi-Wan. "…we both know that this is your territory. We are only here to ask for a contact."

"I see," Dgad says, crossing his arms over his chest. Qui-Gon matches his pose, but the bulge in the front of his pants makes you sigh. "And what makes you think that I will tell you anything?"

Qui-Gon turns and glances at Obi-Wan as he raises his eyebrows. "How do we indeed….Obi-Wan?"

Before Jinn finishes his sentence, he is dancing across the floor. Obi-Wan vaults out of his seat, springing with so little effort that you wonder where the movement begins and the man ends. There is sudden bolts from a blaster…and you feel yourself flying backwards…propelled by an invisible force. Qui-Gon's voice growls in your head. Your body is jarred as it lands on a cushion and you glance at your arm. There is a blaster glancing burn on your upper arm.

Your arm stings and you ease yourself into a standing position.

Both of the Jedi are blurs of action…you feel the dust of air movement across your features. But as they slow, you see Qui-Gon's hair settling and Obi-Wan's shirt slowing in its twirl. In their arms, they restrain the two men that attacked you.

Qui-Gon holds his arm under Dgad's chin. Obi-Wan has knocked the other man off of his feet…he lies disoriented at the foot of the Padawan Jedi. Impressive, you think. And Qui-Gon in a state of full arousal as well…. You move over to Jenessa and grab at her hand. Qui-Gon glances over at you and nods. Then his arm tightens and the man slides up the pole that is directly behind him. When the man's feet are a good decimeter off the ground, he leans into his arm and holds Dgad in place. You hear in your head: /little one, are you all right?/

As well as I can be with a burn on my arm, Jinn, you think. He gives a half smile in response. Obi-Wan causally sits on the cushion nearest the man that he felled and stretches his legs out over the prone form.

"Did you see him?" Jenessa asks, glancing up at you. "Gods…that body…"

"Easy, girl," you joke. You sigh in your head and think: This seems too easy.

/try and complete that move with an erection, pet/ Qui-Gon answers back in your head. He thrusts his arm into the cords of the man's neck and growls. "I think you will tell me what I need to know, Dgad…if you wish to continue to breathe."

Dgad groans and chokes. With a grunt, Qui-Gon eases off of the man's neck and nods. "Tell me where your contact is and what he knows of the Senate."

"I'm not…"

Qui-Gon tightens his arm again. "Answer me…or you are breathing your last breath."

The man nods and swallows. As Jinn eases off of his throat, Dgad grunts. "We talk to Linver. He knows the Senate."

"Knows them…or is involved with them?" Obi-Wan sits forward. "We need details."

"Involved with them," Dgad groans as Qui-Gon lets him slide down the pole. Jinn smiles at the man and nods.

"Thank you, that was all we needed to know."

Within a second, another pair of Jedi…dressed in standard cloaks and tunics approaches and gathers the two men. Glancing down at Jenessa, through the smoke and flashing lights, you smile. For the first time in two days, you draw a deep breath.

 **

"Gods, Jinn…"

His answer is to chuckle lowly. The rumbling in his chest makes you feel warm…like cocoa on a winter's day or a favorite blanket. But it is the whole presence of his cock in you that makes you BURN. He has his knees braced against the mattress and his arms…like solid oak treetrunks….next to your head. It is all you can do to keep your body from bursting into flames.

His mouth lands on the side of you neck and drags up the side of your chin, nibbles at your ear before his head rears back. His hips move constantly, causing the bed to hitch and sway under you. You can feel the iron-like muscles in his buttocks and thighs rocking into your open thighs. He suddenly thrusts hard and remains, his cock tip against your cervix. "Quiet, Miranda…"

You mew, trying, in vain, to move your hips to mimic a withdraw by his member. There is a fine sheen of sweat on your breasts and the cool regulated air causes you to fluccuate between hot and cold, controlled and frantic. The sweet aroma of sex fills the air around you…and somewhere….somewhere over the side of the bed and on the floor…are the bedclothes. The sheets have disappeared, dislodged by yours and his actions upon the mattress.

He reaches to hold your chin still and lowers his lips to yours. The gentle ebb and flow of a man's lips that you lust for….the brush and push, give and take of the sweet, hidden skin…hot and rough and silk and flames…it has been too long since you have felt this.

For the last six months, sex has been perfunctory…to be endured and not enjoyed. But here, under Qui-Gon…letting him lead you and allowing yourself to feel the heat…the lust…the want and the caring…it is as sex should be. You enjoy. You burn. You love the feeling. "Please…" you whimper and move your thighs against him. "There is something against undue torture in the Coruscant charter, I know, it….move, Jinn…don't stop…."

He nips at your ear and reaches down with his hand to hoist your leg high on his body…your ankle collides with his still stationary and incredibly tight buttocks. "You will wake Lan."

You whimper and sigh, knowing that he is right. "You are going to kill me…I know it…" you whisper back.

"On the contrary…." He moans in your ear…low…like a far away waterfall or a wave crashing on a far away shore. "I am going to make you a very happy woman…"

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders…your head falls back to rest in the soft of the pillow…the down crunching around your ears. You release a breath as he pulls out and then gulp for air as he pushes slowly back in. The low candle, lit as your only concession to light in the room, flickers as he puffs a breath instead of a moan. "I might die though, Miranda…"

"A Jedi?" you sigh, easing your thighs a little wider. "Die during a simple thing like…" you swallow a breath as he repeats his withdraw and thrust. "…like carnal relations."

"Nothing simple about it, little one….pet," he grunts quietly and reaches down with his hand to hoist your other leg higher on his hips. "Keep your legs there…sex is a complicated action…movements…" he churns his hips, "choreographed dances…" he withdraws and completes a cycle of rapid thrusts before finally easing back on his knees. His cock is withdrawn from you completely. You almost growl at him…the loss is acute.

His grin is an expected retort. "Turn over."

"Interesting…" you sigh and flip over. As you rise on your knees and hands, you feel him suddenly grasp your hips. As he eases them high in the air to match his height, your face lands in the pillow. Your aroused and now, thoroughly tortured nipples brush against the fabric and you voluntarily arch your back in response.

"I love to watch," he whispers, as you feel his warm chest cover your back. His weight pushes your engorged nipples further into the material and you moan at the wonderful friction and groan as he slides his length back inside of you. "Force below, Miranda…you are wet."

His heat leaves you as he leans back, his hands holding your hips. You can tell he watches by the sound of his breath…he holds it as he pulls out and silently groans as he slips it back in. The friction…the angle makes you stifle your loud sighs and moans in the pillow. You rear your head back as he shoves his entire length in your channel. His hand grabs your hips and holds you. "Mir…"

You moan…the angle of penetration and the sheer size of his cock is enough to bring you to the edge of sanity. You grip at the sheets, pulling them from their mooring on the mattress. "Gods…Qui-Gon."

He spreads your knees further with his knees and begins to ride you hard. The thrusts are so fast and so complete that you cannot tell where the in ends and the out begins. He leans forward as he sinks his entire length inside of you and mutters in your ear. "I can feel your pleasure, Miranda…it surprises you."

You moan, pushing your face back into the pillow. He continues, breathing heavily, but forcing his words out between his teeth. "I have wanted this all night, Miranda….all night."

You turn your head sideways on the pillow and gulp for air. Your lids are almost shut over your eyes, but you can see the night sky out the window. You have wanted it like nothing else all night as well. With every inward thrust, you see stars exploding in that night sky….behind your eyes…and in your mind. He hits your sweet spot with every move. And suddenly, your eyes fly open. Suddenly you feel your body flush with want and you hear your moans and yells and sighs and…"Gods, yes!"

He makes no qualms about noise as he feels your body tighten around his…you know that he can feel it…he has to. And each contraction of your muscles, each sign of your physical orgasm, makes you keen and wail. You have not had an orgasm in months. The force of it brings you to your proverbial knees. Your insides turn to jelly and Qui-Gon has to hold you aloft to receive the last of his languid almost liquid thrusts. Finally…he groans, emptying himself deep inside of you.

It takes the last of his strength, it seems, to hold himself off of you long enough to collapse to the sheets next you. You remain on your knees, your head bowed, taking gulps of air. After a minute, you sigh and lift your head long enough to glance at him. "Am I dead, Jedi?"

He lifts his arm from where it has landed over his eyes. "No. But I would have taken it as a compliment, little one."

Lan whimpers from his crib and you ease yourself from the bed to pad across the floor. The air seems like spring…refreshing…against your naked skin. As you approach the crib, you see that he is still asleep and only restless. You smile and lean your hip against the frame of the crib. "Thank the Gods for small favors…" you sigh, and turn on weak knees to face Qui-Gon. One of his long, naked legs hangs off the bed and toward the ground. "He still sleeps."

"I thought you would have woken the dead, little one. For a woman that is….well….versed…"

You rapidly return to the bed and slap his chest with some force. "I recall there being some sort of bedroom etiquette."

"Would it make you feel better to say that I am well-versed as well?" he jokes and clears his throat. "Get back into bed, Miranda…your body in the moonlight will put us back into the situation we were just in…and in danger of waking everyone."

With a smile and a laugh, you allow your quaking legs to fold and you ease back into the bed. He lifts the last of the sheets and helps you settle. Turning on your side, you lean into his chest…as he holds up his arm to allow you to do so. He glances down at you with raised eyebrows and puts his arm over your shoulders.

You shrug and nod at him. "And you are right, Jinn…that was not usual for me….the sex that is."

He shakes his head and lifts his other hand to smooth back your hair. You don't allow him to talk, however, and lay your hand on his pectoral muscles. "I haven't had an orgasm in months, Qui-Gon….the sex was incredible."

He smiles, widely, and tilts your head up so that your lips can receive his kiss. "Thank you, pet. For me, the sex was wonderful. But…" he looks over his shoulder at the crib. You watch his head turn and the direction of his attention. "It takes on a completely different meaning…when thought is applied to logical progression…"

"Speak basic, Jedi," you say quietly.

"Sex makes babies," he sighs and looks back at you. "It simply gives new meaning to the act in my eyes. I told you. I was never around a baby before for an extended period. With a child in the room…sleeping and the two of us engaging in carnal acts and struggling to stay quiet…"

You raise up and look at him. In the dark, his eyes are hooded and his hair flows around him like brown silk. He nods. "Yes, Miranda…I can see it in your eyes rather than hear it in your head. I do feel as though this is what a family is like."

You open and close your mouth rapidly. "You are not allowed…"

"I am not allowed to marry, little one, but that does not mean that I don't think of it occasionally. John was a lucky man to have been marrying you…and he would have been lucky to have Lan as a son."

The sudden press of tears to your eyes is unexpected and you gasp and push back from his chest. He only stops you from leaving the bed. With a moan, you turn and look at him. "Jinn…we were just having…"

"You asked what I thought of…with your look…and I told you. Yes, we did just have sex." He turns over and traces the line of your neck, chin and breast with his finger. "And yes, I had sex with you because you are a beautiful woman…a very shapely woman and because I am attracted to you physically to the point of pain."

You return his favor, tracing his beard covered jaw with your hand. "Pain? Really?"

"Yes. I could hardly wait to get you back to the hotel tonight. …to here." He pets your hair and presses his half-erect cock into the side of your thigh. His eyes appear endless as he stares down at you. "In the closet, Miranda, is the pair of pants and shirt, jacket that I ordered for you. Tomorrow…put them on and go and see Jan Imanda…"

"Imanda?" you ask.

"He works with the Coruscant delegation in the senate and is in need of an assistant. He waits to talk to you for the position. It pays well." Qui-Gon smiles down at you.

"You didn't."

"I did, Miranda. I couldn't leave you and Lan to continue as you were. I want you to be well…and it is something that I can do for you both…and I will not accept thanks…" he holds up a finger and then presses it to your lips. "But I will ask you to someday tell Lan about me."

"You don't have to worry about that, Qui-Gon," you sigh, a smile on your lips. "He will hear all about you and Obi-Wan…"

He lifts your hand from his chest and kisses it. Soon, he leans down and your lips are covered in his again, his hand gripping your hair to hold you for his easy/hard kiss. As your hands bury in his hair to hold him to you, you know that your life will never be the same for meeting him. And Gods know, you will miss him as much as you miss John.

**

"Momma?"

You glance up at Lan…your seven year old boy is as handsome and as wonderful as his father had been…and smile. "Eat your breakfast, Lan…"

"Mom…a man called last night before you got home from work…." Lan looks chastised. "All he said…is you would know him. Something about rain and a cardboard box…. Said he was just…'checking in'."

You know that your smile is wider than usual. Pushing back from the table you pick up the plates and walk to the sink. "I think you are old enough to hear a couple of stories from my past, Lan. You see….it all started one night on a street corner….I bumped into this Jedi…."