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mooreaux:

Funny how you never know it’s the good old days while you’re in them

inyri:

Equivalent Exchange by inyri
Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan
Rating: E (this chapter: M)

Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire/Knights of the Eternal Throne.)

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Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Game

Nine opens her eyes.

The drawback of Odessen’s relative security, the base built as it was into the solid stone of the cliffs, was the lack of natural light. Her quarters here- or is it their quarters, now? Theron’s stirring awake too, his breath warm on the back of her neck and one arm draped lazily over her waist, curling, pulling her closer out of reflex- are windowless; it reminds her too much of the endless black monotony of spaceship travel, never quite knowing if it was day or night. Say what one liked about the endless rain on Dromund Kaas, in her own apartment she still woke to the sun on her face.

(Or the ghost of sun, at least, peeking through the clouds, but never mind that: her point stands. She misses very little of Kaas City, but she really had been fond of that apartment even if it did remind her too much of-

Never mind that, either.)

“‘s that me or you?” Theron mumbles over the steady chime of a datapad alarm from somewhere in the lower part of the room.

She blinks, stifling a yawn. “Probably me. What time is it?”  

“Just turned five,” he says after a moment, lifting his hand up along her body, fingertips brushing gently at her throat in response to her still-hoarse voice. He always had the time down to the millisecond, one of the many side benefits of his implant and one of the few she truly envied. It didn’t matter when they were properly geared for missions and she was hooked into comms, but it would have been useful more than once on undercover ops. “I didn’t think I had anything before eight, but-”

“You don’t. I, on the other hand-” she pushes the blanket back reluctantly with her still-splinted wrist, just far enough that she can slip free and leave Theron covered and warm. But he doesn’t move to let her go and she doesn’t really want to get up, not when these minutes stolen one by one from their overscheduled days are all they get- “am due in the infirmary. I’ve got a hot date with a kolto tank.”

He shifts, one foot overlapping hers; he props himself up on his elbow behind her. “I’m jealous. Guess I should get up too, eh?”

“Why? Go back to sleep. Stars know you need it.”

“But if I walk out of here later without you-” Theron pauses.

In trying to turn over to face him she only tangles herself up, her leg half-trapped beneath his so she has to roll into him instead of away. With her weight against him he tips back, settling onto the pillow again as her head rests on his chest, her body atop his. “My answer hasn’t changed since last night. Let them talk,” she says. “I don’t care.”

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