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rivulet027 Sep. 2nd, 2021 03:14 am)
rivulet027 Sep. 2nd, 2021 03:14 am)Title: Into Substance and Hue
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Quinlan/Fox, Stone/Feemor, Dormé/Thire
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Quinlan Vos is tasked with finding the Sith that's hiding in the Senate. Fox agrees to pretend to date him to get Quinlan access to the Senate building.
A/N: Thanks tothesecondbatgirl and MapleOwl18 for all the encourage. Also thank you to MapleOwl18 for the beta.
A/N2: Dormé and Padmé are pregnant in this fic, but their pregnancies will not be the focus. The topic will get brought up and discussed, but there will be no pregnancy drama unless you count Thire suing the Republic for paternity leave.
Chapter 3:
Dormé isn’t sure what to do with how shocked she feels as she heads back to Padmé’s apartment. She knew what the doctor was going to tell her, she merely made the appointment to confirm what the medical scan she’d performed on herself told her. She expected the exam, the vitamins, and the future appointments, but somehow hearing it from her doctor solidifies things in a way she hadn't expected. She’s just not sure how to tell Thire that she’s pregnant. The two of them didn’t discuss pregnancy as an option for having children in the future since Thire still believes he is infertile. It makes her wonder how many other clones think they can’t have children, but can.
She picks up when Teckla comms her asking when she’ll get back. Teckla explains, “I’d like to leave soon to pick up dinner.”
“Did you want me to pick it up?” Dormé offers.
“I’m meeting my family at the restaurant,” Teckla says. “I was going to visit briefly and then send some food home with them.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Dormé reassures her. They try to make sure any extra food gets sent home with Teckla or they tend to order extra food they know her children like. “I’m almost back.”
When Dormé gets in the door Teckla grabs her purse and informs her. “She’s working on the terrace. I just freshened her tea.”
“Thank you Teckla. Enjoy your time with your family,” Dormé smiles at her.
“Thank you,” Teckla smiles back as she heads out the door.
Dormé stops in the kitchen to fix her own cup of tea, then picks up her bag and joins Padmé on the terrace. Padmé is reading the datapad in her hand, but she has several spread out on the table, the one she’s taking notes on is in the center. Dormé takes a sip of her tea, then asks, “Anything good?"
Padmé lowers the datapad and sits back in her chair. There’s frustration on her face. “Senator Viento added a clause to our latest finance bill that lowers the acceptable age for the clones to join the army.”
Dormé sets her tea down. “Buried it in the bill you mean. Didn’t they just lower the age?”
“To sixteen, in accelerated years,” Padmé says. She sighs and picks up her tea. She cradles the cup as she frowns. “Anakin says he got two: Tup and Dogma.”
Dormé grimaces then stares down at her hands. “That’s hard to think about.”
“It is,” Padmé agrees. She sits back in her chair. “Anakin mentioned Tup has long hair and Sabé was already in the area so she’s going to stop by and give him a hair clip.”
The hair clips are actually multitools: both ends can be used as a screwdriver, the large part of the clip is designed in a way to also make it a wrench, there’s also a side that can easily puncture and cut things. Every one of the handmaidens has several of them. They’ve given at least one to every member of the Coruscant guard and try to gift them to any clones they can, it seems less suspicious if they have longer hair.
“That’s also a convenient way for Sabé to be there so she can access how they’re adjusting,” Dormé says. “And she gets to spend some time with Rex.”
Padmé smiles into her tea cup. Dormé considers discussing this further, but she wants to bring up her pregnancy with Padmé in private, and it’s conveniently just the two of them at the moment. She considers the work in front of Padme, it’s clear they’re in for a long night. It might be better to get started on the work, and then take the time to talk later, except the way Padmé is relaxing into her chair means she’s likely taking a much needed break. Dormé sighs, then sits back in her own chair. Padmé raises her eyebrows.
“I wanted to talk to you about something privately, but…” Dormé starts, then trails off..
Padmé sits up and sets her tea down. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong,” Dormé reassures. “I visited the doctor.”
She takes the bottle of prenatal vitamins out of her bag and sets them on the table between them.
“I was going to take my first one now, did you want one?” Dormé offers.
“How far along are you?” Padmé asks as she stares at the bottle.
“About a month and a half, you?”
Padmé wets her lips. “I think two months, but I’m not sure.”
“Have you been to the doctor?”
Padmé shakes her head. “I’ve been so busy and I don’t want to cause a scandal.”
“Your private life should be able to remain private.”
“It doesn’t always and when it gets out that I’m...I’m pregnant, then there will be questions the public will feel they’re entitled to,” Padmé worries.
“Such as?”
“They’ll want to know who the father is and I can’t do that to him,” Padmé explains, shaking her head. She picks up her tea and takes a sip.
“Does he know, the father?” Dormé asks.
Padmé shakes her head again. “I haven’t been able to tell him. We never even discussed children.”
Dormé frowns as she considers this. For a moment she thinks about telling Padmé she knows who the father is, since it’s obvious, but no, if the illusion of privacy is helping Padmé she won’t be the one to take it away from her. So how do they keep appointments discrete and private? Slowly she offers, “What if you accompanied me to my appointments to be 'supportive'? There are some parenting classes I’m looking into as well.”
“Would your doctor let us cram two people into one appointment?” Padmé considers.
“If our appointments are back to back then maybe it could work? It doesn’t hurt to ask and you’re a senator so they might make an exception.”
Padmé nods as she reaches for the vitamins. “Let’s try. Have you told Thire?”
“I just confirmed it,” Dormé tells her as she watches Padmé open the container and pull off the protective cover. “I’m not sure how to tell Thire. He didn’t think he could have children. He didn’t think any of the clones could have children.”
Padmé takes a vitamin, then hands the bottle to Dormé. Dormé spills one into her hand. She takes it as Padmé sits back in her chair cradling her tea cup while she asks, “Do you think it’s just another variation, like how eye or hair color can be different: some clones can have children?”
“I’m more concerned with how Thire will react.”
“I thought both of you wanted children?” Padmé frowns.
“We talked about getting married and adopting if we both made it through the war,” Dormé says. “It was a very big if, still is in some ways. We don’t know what will happen with the clones after the war.”
“We just have to get to the after first,” Padmé sighs. “No, they should already have rights, they at least should be getting paid.”
“They should,” Dormé agrees, “but first food and then making sure they don’t lower the age the army can consider their training finished.”
“I’ll think better after some food,” Padmé nods. “And I can at least take a break until it gets here. I’m glad I’m not going through pregnancy alone.”
“You’re not,” Dormé reassures.
Padmé smiles at her, it’s wan and still full of worry. Dormé lets herself enjoy her tea, giving Padmé time to decide how to voice her concerns. Padmé sits back cradling her cup, looking out at the skyline. “My family will pressure me to take maternity leave on Naboo.”
Dormé is relatively sure Padmé means that her family will expect her to take the traditional two years of maternity leave. Coruscant’s maternity leave is less, depending on employer, but the Senate tends to default to a Senator’s homeworld traditions.
“Two years is a long time,” Dormé comments noncommittally.
“I can’t see taking that much time away,” Padmé stresses. “Not in the middle of a war.”
It would give too much time to her opponents in the Senate to undo all the work she’s been trying to accomplish. It’d also derail and put other work on hold.
“You don’t have to take the full two years,” Dormé reminds. “It’s there if you want it, but you can tailor your leave to your needs and we have time to figure out what that is.”
“My family,” Padmé says, then grimaces.
“It’s your life, not your family’s,” Dormé points out gently.
Padmé sighs. “Intellectually I know that, emotionally not so much.”
“I can understand that,” Dormé agrees.
“What kind of leave would you be interested in?” Padmé asks.
Dormé stills, she hadn’t thought about her maternity leave, she’s only really thought about how she’s going to tell Thire. She sets her tea cup down. “Are the clones even eligible for paternity leave?”
Padmé sits up, setting her own tea cup down. She’s got that look on her face, the one she gets when she has a brilliant idea. “The officers do. The army has rules about paternity leave, but I’m not sure if the rules include or exclude the clones.”
“We could use that,” Dormé says, thinking out loud. “If it includes or excludes the clones we can use either to build on.”
“Exactly,” Padmé grins as she sits up and reaches for a datapad. “Do you think, if we need to, that Thire would allow us to set him up with a lawyer who could help him sue for paternity leave? We might even be able to arrange to do this anonymously to protect his identity.”
“I’d have to talk to Thire first,” Dormé grins. “I think he’d agree, but I don’t want to commit him to anything until I’ve talked to him..”
Padmé nods, grinning. Then she shakes her head at herself. She takes a slow breath. “We’ll figure this out, but food and the finance bill first.”
Dormé agrees
*
When Fox gets to the temple he sends Quinlan a message. Quinlan sends a message back stating he's in the Archives, but can meet him by the entrance soon. Fox tells him to stay where he is. Loitering in one place when he doesn't have a specific job makes him uncomfortable and he hasn't been to the Archives in awhile.
He finds Quinlan at one of the first level work stations transferring a book to his datapad. He looks up and smiles as Fox approaches. Fox’s step almost falters, he hasn't had anyone smile at him like that since Keeli. He reminds himself that Quinlan is a spy, that means he's good at acting. Quinlan’s smile doesn't mean he's actually happy to see Fox. Then Quinlan stands, steps close, and moves in to kiss him. Fox is already half a step back before he registers he doesn't need to flinch away. He glances away, muttering, "Sorry."
"Hey, it's alright." Quinlan soothes in an easy tone. "I should be the one apologizing, I startled you."
Fox fixes Quinlan with an expression of exasperation. He made a mistake by flinching. That can't happen if they want everyone to think they're enamored with each other. Quinlan gives him a laccidasal grin. Fox let's his exasperation move to a sigh before he steps close and kisses Quinlan. It's brief. "I don't think I feel comfortable kissing in the Archives."
It's a poor excuse, but it's what Fox has.
Quinlan's smile moves to a smirk as his voice goes husky, "No to seducing you in the Archives. I can respect that, though we wouldn't be the first Master Nu or her team caught making out in a quiet corner."
"That seems somehow disrespectful to Master Nu."
"This isn't just a temple, it's a home. There are teenagers," Quinlan pauses to shrug. "They have hormones."
Fox snorts. "And you don't?"
"I'm older and wiser. I have more control over my base urges." His words are glib, edging towards self-mocking. Fox fights the urge to laugh. He wants to, but he also won't disturb the peace of the Archives.
Quinlan scoops up his datapad as he holds out his free hand for Fox. He gives a light squeeze after Fox takes his hand. The smile he gives Fox seems genuine.
"How do you know Master Nu?" Quinlan asks as they head out of the Archives.
"She made sure we knew how to use the Archives when we first got here and when the city library didn't understand why they should grant us access she talked them into it."
Quinlan stops walking as he turns to stare at Fox. "The library wasn't going to grant you... they're supposed to give everyone access."
"Not everyone views clones as sentient," Fox points out.
Fox isn't sure how to respond to the indignant look on Quinlan's face. There's a nearby alcove and he tugs Quinlan into it and then for a moment he's not sure what to say. Fox isn't sure he wants to have this conversation or maybe he doesn't want to hear Quinlan put his foot in his mouth. He doesn't have the energy for it and being at the Jedi temple always leaves him feeling on edge.
"Too much truth for you," he challenges.
“No,” Quinlan answers as his eyes dart over Fox’s face. He sighs, shoulder’s slumping. “I think we’re both tired and on edge though.”
“Stone said he thought you had a migraine,” Fox says.
“I got thrown out of a vision,” Quinlan admits. “It was a lot.”
"Should I have noticed?" Fox asks as he lets himself touch Quinlan’s cheek and the back of his neck. Their eyes meet and Fox suddenly wants to tug Quinlan closer or push forward to kiss him. The information that Quinlan might have should be his first priority, not soothing his own guilt for not noticing Quinlan was in distress or giving into lust.
“Hey,” Quinlan says softly. His hand comes up slowly, with plenty of time for Fox to pull away. He cups Fox’s cheek, then slides his hand upwards to run his fingers through Fox’s curls. “We’re both tired and apprehensive.”
Maybe Fox is so used to Stone telling him how he feels that it doesn’t seem strange when Quinlan does it too, maybe it helps that Quinlan is right. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m not sure I’m up to eating in one of the dining halls right now,” Quinlin admits.
Fox shudders at the thought. He really doesn’t want to be surrounded by people right now, especially not ones who can feel how on edge he is.
“Maybe we get our food and head back to my room to talk,” Quinlan suggests. “We can have a date another day, when we’re both feeling up to it.”
“I get a date?” Fox teases.
Quinlan grins. Then his eyes stray to Fox’s lips and his face goes wanting. “You’re worth a lot of dates.”
Fox is suddenly caught between his desire to roll his eyes and his need to tell Quinlan that’s a good line. So instead he challenges, “And what kind of date were you planning?”
“I talked to the range master about times he has available," Quinlan tells him.
"There's a shooting range here? At the temple?" Why didn’t he already know this?
Quinlan nods, then asks, "Ever use a slug thrower?"
"Not since training," Fox admits to keep himself from hauling Quinlan in and kissing him thoroughly.
Quinlan smirks slowly, not moving away. "All weapons make you feel like that or just slug throwers?"
It's pretend. This is fake or it's supposed to be, but how much Fox wants to get his hands on Quinlan is very real and he's absolutely sure Quinlan knows this. “Weren’t you just bragging about being able to control your baser urges?”
Quinlan laughs then kisses his forehead. Fox stills. His eyes close. He's never had anyone kiss his forehead before. It's surprisingly pleasant. Then Quinlan ruins it by saying, "Ohhhh, you liked that."
Fox opens his eyes and cradles Quinlan's head, tilting him so their foreheads rest against each other. "Hush or I'll have to roll my eyes."
"Wouldn't want that," Quinlan teases.
"Food," Fox reminds, as much for Quinlan as himself.
Quinlan sighs, but agrees. They untangle themselves and take each other's hands again.They get trays in the dining hall Quinlan leads him to. Fox hides his smile as he watches Quinlan interact with several of the younglings: answering a few questions and offering encouragement. Quinlan clearly cares about the younglings and they clearly enjoy his company. Eventually they make their way to Quinlan’s room. Fox’s never been to the part of the temple that held personal quarters. It feels private, but that will help him and Quinlan keep up their ruse and plan ahead.
Quinlan’s room is larger than he expected. It’s almost a small apartment. Quinlan has them settle their trays on a table that he clearly uses as a desk. Conveniently it’s got three chairs, all placed around the table so there’s a clear line of sight to the door. There’s a large bed in the far corner of the room with a plethora of pillows and blankets. There’s a nightstand near the bed with a lamp and at the end of the bed is a grey wood bench seat that looks as though it doubles as storage. There's another open door showing Quinlan’s refresher. In the corner across from the bed is a space that must have once been a closet, but is now full of shelves holding various knickknacks. There’s a wardrobe next to it that is made from the same distressed gray wood as the bed and nightstand. In the corner opposite the door is a floor lamp, a comfortable chair with a footstool, and a small table. The windows have blackout curtains that are open. There are two rugs, both look soft. There is a round one under the table, that’s mostly blue with a starburst pattern. There’s a larger rectangular rug that takes up the middle of the room. There’s a bright blue swirl that goes to dark grey, then light grey, then white in what almost looks like waves. There’s a round white chair in the middle of the rug, at least Fox thinks it’s a chair, it doesn’t have a back. There’s one painting on the wall: a beach scene with frothy water as it comes over the sand. The water itself is a bright blue fading into a darker blue. The sky is just starting to turn into hazy purples and pinks as the sun is at the horizon. Fox stares at it quietly for a moment. He grew up in the middle of an ocean, but somehow this beach with sand seems inviting.
Quinlan moves the data pads from his table to a chair, before sitting down. Fox takes the empty chair. He feels more relaxed now that he’s behind a closed door and only needs to interact with Quinlan. The first few times he came to the temple and felt low level anxiety bubbling within him Fox thought it might be because he was certain he’d find out that the Jedi viewed all the clones the same way the public did: as expendable soldiers made to fight this war for them. He knows that’s not true now, but the anxiety he feels when he comes here hasn’t gone away.
Quinlan shifts in his chair. His body is no longer languid and the smile is gone from his face. He looks suddenly tired. Maybe Quinlan did have a migraine earlier? What does getting thrown out of a vision do to a Jedi or a Kiffar? Fox tilts his head. “Did you need to do this another day?”
“No,” Quinlan shakes his head. He sighs, then gets up to get a blanket off his bed and wrap it around himself. He sits back down in his chair and picks up his fork. “I want you to stay. I just probably need to go to bed early.”
Fox nods. They eat in silence for several moments, but it’s a comfortable silence and Fox appreciates that. He finds silences relaxing. He knows not everyone does. Quinlan sets his fork down and grimaces as he sits back in his chair.
Fox frowns. “Are you able to tell me what’s wrong?”
Quinlan shrugs. “I’m just tired. I should be better by tomorrow. I need to eat though or I’ll be worse tomorrow.”
“Should you have gone to the Archives?”
“The book I was reading referenced another book and I wanted to see if I could borrow a copy,” Quinlan explains.
Fox nods.
Quinlan tries a smile. "I'll feel better after eating and getting some sleep. Would you stay the night?"
Fox's mouth suddenly goes dry. He tries to tell himself this isn't any different than when Cody or Wolffe are in the city and they drag him to bed for sex and to make sure he sleeps for multiple consecutive hours. It feels different though. He's going to fall for Quinlan Fox realizes and this is just a mission for Quinlan, an act to achieve an end. Clearly he finds the flirting fun and maybe they'll catch some corrupt Senators, but Fox still knows he's going to be hurt in the end when Quinlan doesn't reciprocate his feelings. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with that though. Maybe he’s not ready to find a relationship like he and Keeli had.
"Just for sleep," Quinlan clarifies. "I'm not up for anything else."
Fox wets his lips. He's not sure how to respond. He wants to stay. He always sleeps better if he's not alone in a berth. It will also help sell the lie that the two of them are actually together. Fox doesn't want to get hurt. He doesn’t want to hurt Quinlan either.
“You can borrow some sleep clothes,” Quinlan offers.
Fox thinks about protesting, about saying he can sleep in his blacks, but he’s also sure Quinlan’s clothes would be more comfortable. “Are your things even going to fit me?
Quinlan tilts his head. “We’ll manage. I already got a spare toothbrush for you.”
“Presumptuous much?”
Quinlan laughs, then explains, “More that I didn’t want to go back out once we got to my room. I knew I wouldn’t feel up to it.”
Fox nods, frowning. “Are you able to tell me what happened?”
“Do you know who Ayo Morota is?” Quinlan asks.
“Yes, she was leading a gang that was assassinating senators,” Fox says. “My men tend to die protecting senators so it was a relief when her gang was destroyed.”
Quinlan smiles at him: it’s wan and sad, then he explains his vision and how he knew Ayo. Fox eats slowly as he listens, occasionally prompting Quinlan to stop and take a bite. They’re finished with their plates before Quinlan finishes his story. Quinlan takes a hotplate and a teapot from his shelf and makes them tea while he continues. By the time he’s handing Fox a cup of tea he’s finished telling Fox what he saw. Fox isn’t sure what he wants to touch on first: how impressed he is that Quinlan took out Ayo’s gang by himself or how they’re going to find evidence against Senator Viento and just who he’s working for. He also wants to know who was guarding the room since the only guards for the Senate are his men or those specifically guarding the Chancellor. He and his men should’ve noticed outside security. The thought leaves him with an unsteady feeling that he’s not ready to touch on yet.
Fox sighs, then muses, "There's got to be a data trail. I'll start looking in the morning."
Quinlan frowns. Fox raises his eyebrows.
"When do you rest?" Quinlan asks.
"I'll rest when I'm dead, hypocrite."
Quinlan laughs and then winces. Clearly, since he's finished eating Quinlan needs that sleep he was talking about earlier.
Fox frowns. "Technically tomorrow is my 'day off' and I was planning to catch-up on paperwork, but I can look into this too. Finish your tea, we can figure the rest out in the morning and you look like you need to be in bed."
"You deserve rest too," Quinlan points out as he cradles his cup.
Fox shrugs. "Where can I put my armor?"
"Anywhere you'd like," Quinlan says, voice suddenly tired. He takes a sip of his tea.
Fox moves his helmet from the table to the chair in the corner before he takes his boots off and leaves them near the entrance. He slowly takes his armor off piece by piece, careful of the many weapons he has hidden within it. The whole time he can feel Quinlan watching him while slowly drinking his tea. He wants Quinlan to get rest, but they’ll both rest better if they both know exactly where he’s put all his weapons.
When he looks, Quinlan's gaze is intense and full of heat. Fox rolls his eyes. Quinlan smirks slowly, "How many weapons do you have?"
"Enough that if someone decides to take them all they'll unwittingly leave me a few."
Quinlan makes a thoughtful noise as he reaches for one of Fox’s vambraces. He turns it over in his hands, then stills. “There’s extra padding in this.”
He glances up at Fox. Fox shrugs.
“You hid something here, do you mind if I find it?” Quinlan asks. Quinlan’s brows are drawn together in concentration as he tilts his head.
Fox wets his lips. Most people don’t notice. Most people wouldn’t realize this means he’s hidden a weapon. Of course most people don't realize he's hiding additional weapons. “I don’t mind.”
Quinlan runs his fingers over the padding carefully, then works out the hair clip, which is actually a multitool. Quinlan holds it carefully, smiling. “I haven’t seen one of these in years.”
Fox stills. He doesn’t have to explain. He once again suddenly, desperately, wants to kiss Quinlan. Quinlan’s smile goes soft as he carefully slips the hair clip back into its hiding place. Quinlan sets the vambrace down and stands slowly. Fox frowns, there’s a stiffness to his movements, as though he’s holding himself carefully. Quinlan takes a slow, deep breath, before explaining in an even tone, “I just need to brush my teeth, put up my hair, and get some sleep.”
“You overextended yourself.” Fox knows he can’t really fault Quinlan for that, considering he’s constantly doing the same thing.
Quinlan shrugs, then brushes a kiss against Fox’s temple as he steps close. “The first drawer has sleep pants. Thanks for spending the night. I do better when I’m not alone.”
“I sleep better with someone else too,” Fox admits.
Quinlan nods. “Do you want the inside or the outside?”
Fox hesitates.
Quinlan takes his hands and squeezes them in reassurance. “I’m good with either, what’s your preference?”
Neither of them are wearing their usual gloves or gauntlets and the rareness of feeling bare skin while holding hands catches at Fox’s attention. Quinlan’s hands are different from a vods, his fingers longer and more tapered. It makes him want to learn all the groves and calluses of Quinlan’s hands. Fox blinks as he stares down at their joined fingers, letting himself enjoy the feel of them for a moment longer, before he gives himself a mental shake and comes back to the question Quinlan just asked him. “Inside.”
Quinlan squeezes his hands again. “If you start having a nightmare do you want me to wake you or mentally nudge you towards something better?”
Fox stills. “Please don’t go in my head.”
He’s not sure why that thought unsettles him so much, but he’s suddenly nauseous.
Quinlan frowns at him, letting go of his hands abruptly. “I’ll wake you up then.”
As he watches Quinlan head towards the bathroom Fox worries he accidentally hurt him. He thought Kiffars had to touch objects to get a read on them, but that it didn’t work by touching people. Is it different for Quinlan? They’ll need to have a discussion on how exactly his psychomentry works.
Chapters: [1] [2][3][4]
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Quinlan/Fox, Stone/Feemor, Dormé/Thire
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Quinlan Vos is tasked with finding the Sith that's hiding in the Senate. Fox agrees to pretend to date him to get Quinlan access to the Senate building.
A/N: Thanks to
thesecondbatgirl and MapleOwl18 for all the encourage. Also thank you to MapleOwl18 for the beta.A/N2: Dormé and Padmé are pregnant in this fic, but their pregnancies will not be the focus. The topic will get brought up and discussed, but there will be no pregnancy drama unless you count Thire suing the Republic for paternity leave.
Chapter 3:
Dormé isn’t sure what to do with how shocked she feels as she heads back to Padmé’s apartment. She knew what the doctor was going to tell her, she merely made the appointment to confirm what the medical scan she’d performed on herself told her. She expected the exam, the vitamins, and the future appointments, but somehow hearing it from her doctor solidifies things in a way she hadn't expected. She’s just not sure how to tell Thire that she’s pregnant. The two of them didn’t discuss pregnancy as an option for having children in the future since Thire still believes he is infertile. It makes her wonder how many other clones think they can’t have children, but can.
She picks up when Teckla comms her asking when she’ll get back. Teckla explains, “I’d like to leave soon to pick up dinner.”
“Did you want me to pick it up?” Dormé offers.
“I’m meeting my family at the restaurant,” Teckla says. “I was going to visit briefly and then send some food home with them.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Dormé reassures her. They try to make sure any extra food gets sent home with Teckla or they tend to order extra food they know her children like. “I’m almost back.”
When Dormé gets in the door Teckla grabs her purse and informs her. “She’s working on the terrace. I just freshened her tea.”
“Thank you Teckla. Enjoy your time with your family,” Dormé smiles at her.
“Thank you,” Teckla smiles back as she heads out the door.
Dormé stops in the kitchen to fix her own cup of tea, then picks up her bag and joins Padmé on the terrace. Padmé is reading the datapad in her hand, but she has several spread out on the table, the one she’s taking notes on is in the center. Dormé takes a sip of her tea, then asks, “Anything good?"
Padmé lowers the datapad and sits back in her chair. There’s frustration on her face. “Senator Viento added a clause to our latest finance bill that lowers the acceptable age for the clones to join the army.”
Dormé sets her tea down. “Buried it in the bill you mean. Didn’t they just lower the age?”
“To sixteen, in accelerated years,” Padmé says. She sighs and picks up her tea. She cradles the cup as she frowns. “Anakin says he got two: Tup and Dogma.”
Dormé grimaces then stares down at her hands. “That’s hard to think about.”
“It is,” Padmé agrees. She sits back in her chair. “Anakin mentioned Tup has long hair and Sabé was already in the area so she’s going to stop by and give him a hair clip.”
The hair clips are actually multitools: both ends can be used as a screwdriver, the large part of the clip is designed in a way to also make it a wrench, there’s also a side that can easily puncture and cut things. Every one of the handmaidens has several of them. They’ve given at least one to every member of the Coruscant guard and try to gift them to any clones they can, it seems less suspicious if they have longer hair.
“That’s also a convenient way for Sabé to be there so she can access how they’re adjusting,” Dormé says. “And she gets to spend some time with Rex.”
Padmé smiles into her tea cup. Dormé considers discussing this further, but she wants to bring up her pregnancy with Padmé in private, and it’s conveniently just the two of them at the moment. She considers the work in front of Padme, it’s clear they’re in for a long night. It might be better to get started on the work, and then take the time to talk later, except the way Padmé is relaxing into her chair means she’s likely taking a much needed break. Dormé sighs, then sits back in her own chair. Padmé raises her eyebrows.
“I wanted to talk to you about something privately, but…” Dormé starts, then trails off..
Padmé sits up and sets her tea down. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong,” Dormé reassures. “I visited the doctor.”
She takes the bottle of prenatal vitamins out of her bag and sets them on the table between them.
“I was going to take my first one now, did you want one?” Dormé offers.
“How far along are you?” Padmé asks as she stares at the bottle.
“About a month and a half, you?”
Padmé wets her lips. “I think two months, but I’m not sure.”
“Have you been to the doctor?”
Padmé shakes her head. “I’ve been so busy and I don’t want to cause a scandal.”
“Your private life should be able to remain private.”
“It doesn’t always and when it gets out that I’m...I’m pregnant, then there will be questions the public will feel they’re entitled to,” Padmé worries.
“Such as?”
“They’ll want to know who the father is and I can’t do that to him,” Padmé explains, shaking her head. She picks up her tea and takes a sip.
“Does he know, the father?” Dormé asks.
Padmé shakes her head again. “I haven’t been able to tell him. We never even discussed children.”
Dormé frowns as she considers this. For a moment she thinks about telling Padmé she knows who the father is, since it’s obvious, but no, if the illusion of privacy is helping Padmé she won’t be the one to take it away from her. So how do they keep appointments discrete and private? Slowly she offers, “What if you accompanied me to my appointments to be 'supportive'? There are some parenting classes I’m looking into as well.”
“Would your doctor let us cram two people into one appointment?” Padmé considers.
“If our appointments are back to back then maybe it could work? It doesn’t hurt to ask and you’re a senator so they might make an exception.”
Padmé nods as she reaches for the vitamins. “Let’s try. Have you told Thire?”
“I just confirmed it,” Dormé tells her as she watches Padmé open the container and pull off the protective cover. “I’m not sure how to tell Thire. He didn’t think he could have children. He didn’t think any of the clones could have children.”
Padmé takes a vitamin, then hands the bottle to Dormé. Dormé spills one into her hand. She takes it as Padmé sits back in her chair cradling her tea cup while she asks, “Do you think it’s just another variation, like how eye or hair color can be different: some clones can have children?”
“I’m more concerned with how Thire will react.”
“I thought both of you wanted children?” Padmé frowns.
“We talked about getting married and adopting if we both made it through the war,” Dormé says. “It was a very big if, still is in some ways. We don’t know what will happen with the clones after the war.”
“We just have to get to the after first,” Padmé sighs. “No, they should already have rights, they at least should be getting paid.”
“They should,” Dormé agrees, “but first food and then making sure they don’t lower the age the army can consider their training finished.”
“I’ll think better after some food,” Padmé nods. “And I can at least take a break until it gets here. I’m glad I’m not going through pregnancy alone.”
“You’re not,” Dormé reassures.
Padmé smiles at her, it’s wan and still full of worry. Dormé lets herself enjoy her tea, giving Padmé time to decide how to voice her concerns. Padmé sits back cradling her cup, looking out at the skyline. “My family will pressure me to take maternity leave on Naboo.”
Dormé is relatively sure Padmé means that her family will expect her to take the traditional two years of maternity leave. Coruscant’s maternity leave is less, depending on employer, but the Senate tends to default to a Senator’s homeworld traditions.
“Two years is a long time,” Dormé comments noncommittally.
“I can’t see taking that much time away,” Padmé stresses. “Not in the middle of a war.”
It would give too much time to her opponents in the Senate to undo all the work she’s been trying to accomplish. It’d also derail and put other work on hold.
“You don’t have to take the full two years,” Dormé reminds. “It’s there if you want it, but you can tailor your leave to your needs and we have time to figure out what that is.”
“My family,” Padmé says, then grimaces.
“It’s your life, not your family’s,” Dormé points out gently.
Padmé sighs. “Intellectually I know that, emotionally not so much.”
“I can understand that,” Dormé agrees.
“What kind of leave would you be interested in?” Padmé asks.
Dormé stills, she hadn’t thought about her maternity leave, she’s only really thought about how she’s going to tell Thire. She sets her tea cup down. “Are the clones even eligible for paternity leave?”
Padmé sits up, setting her own tea cup down. She’s got that look on her face, the one she gets when she has a brilliant idea. “The officers do. The army has rules about paternity leave, but I’m not sure if the rules include or exclude the clones.”
“We could use that,” Dormé says, thinking out loud. “If it includes or excludes the clones we can use either to build on.”
“Exactly,” Padmé grins as she sits up and reaches for a datapad. “Do you think, if we need to, that Thire would allow us to set him up with a lawyer who could help him sue for paternity leave? We might even be able to arrange to do this anonymously to protect his identity.”
“I’d have to talk to Thire first,” Dormé grins. “I think he’d agree, but I don’t want to commit him to anything until I’ve talked to him..”
Padmé nods, grinning. Then she shakes her head at herself. She takes a slow breath. “We’ll figure this out, but food and the finance bill first.”
Dormé agrees
*
When Fox gets to the temple he sends Quinlan a message. Quinlan sends a message back stating he's in the Archives, but can meet him by the entrance soon. Fox tells him to stay where he is. Loitering in one place when he doesn't have a specific job makes him uncomfortable and he hasn't been to the Archives in awhile.
He finds Quinlan at one of the first level work stations transferring a book to his datapad. He looks up and smiles as Fox approaches. Fox’s step almost falters, he hasn't had anyone smile at him like that since Keeli. He reminds himself that Quinlan is a spy, that means he's good at acting. Quinlan’s smile doesn't mean he's actually happy to see Fox. Then Quinlan stands, steps close, and moves in to kiss him. Fox is already half a step back before he registers he doesn't need to flinch away. He glances away, muttering, "Sorry."
"Hey, it's alright." Quinlan soothes in an easy tone. "I should be the one apologizing, I startled you."
Fox fixes Quinlan with an expression of exasperation. He made a mistake by flinching. That can't happen if they want everyone to think they're enamored with each other. Quinlan gives him a laccidasal grin. Fox let's his exasperation move to a sigh before he steps close and kisses Quinlan. It's brief. "I don't think I feel comfortable kissing in the Archives."
It's a poor excuse, but it's what Fox has.
Quinlan's smile moves to a smirk as his voice goes husky, "No to seducing you in the Archives. I can respect that, though we wouldn't be the first Master Nu or her team caught making out in a quiet corner."
"That seems somehow disrespectful to Master Nu."
"This isn't just a temple, it's a home. There are teenagers," Quinlan pauses to shrug. "They have hormones."
Fox snorts. "And you don't?"
"I'm older and wiser. I have more control over my base urges." His words are glib, edging towards self-mocking. Fox fights the urge to laugh. He wants to, but he also won't disturb the peace of the Archives.
Quinlan scoops up his datapad as he holds out his free hand for Fox. He gives a light squeeze after Fox takes his hand. The smile he gives Fox seems genuine.
"How do you know Master Nu?" Quinlan asks as they head out of the Archives.
"She made sure we knew how to use the Archives when we first got here and when the city library didn't understand why they should grant us access she talked them into it."
Quinlan stops walking as he turns to stare at Fox. "The library wasn't going to grant you... they're supposed to give everyone access."
"Not everyone views clones as sentient," Fox points out.
Fox isn't sure how to respond to the indignant look on Quinlan's face. There's a nearby alcove and he tugs Quinlan into it and then for a moment he's not sure what to say. Fox isn't sure he wants to have this conversation or maybe he doesn't want to hear Quinlan put his foot in his mouth. He doesn't have the energy for it and being at the Jedi temple always leaves him feeling on edge.
"Too much truth for you," he challenges.
“No,” Quinlan answers as his eyes dart over Fox’s face. He sighs, shoulder’s slumping. “I think we’re both tired and on edge though.”
“Stone said he thought you had a migraine,” Fox says.
“I got thrown out of a vision,” Quinlan admits. “It was a lot.”
"Should I have noticed?" Fox asks as he lets himself touch Quinlan’s cheek and the back of his neck. Their eyes meet and Fox suddenly wants to tug Quinlan closer or push forward to kiss him. The information that Quinlan might have should be his first priority, not soothing his own guilt for not noticing Quinlan was in distress or giving into lust.
“Hey,” Quinlan says softly. His hand comes up slowly, with plenty of time for Fox to pull away. He cups Fox’s cheek, then slides his hand upwards to run his fingers through Fox’s curls. “We’re both tired and apprehensive.”
Maybe Fox is so used to Stone telling him how he feels that it doesn’t seem strange when Quinlan does it too, maybe it helps that Quinlan is right. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m not sure I’m up to eating in one of the dining halls right now,” Quinlin admits.
Fox shudders at the thought. He really doesn’t want to be surrounded by people right now, especially not ones who can feel how on edge he is.
“Maybe we get our food and head back to my room to talk,” Quinlan suggests. “We can have a date another day, when we’re both feeling up to it.”
“I get a date?” Fox teases.
Quinlan grins. Then his eyes stray to Fox’s lips and his face goes wanting. “You’re worth a lot of dates.”
Fox is suddenly caught between his desire to roll his eyes and his need to tell Quinlan that’s a good line. So instead he challenges, “And what kind of date were you planning?”
“I talked to the range master about times he has available," Quinlan tells him.
"There's a shooting range here? At the temple?" Why didn’t he already know this?
Quinlan nods, then asks, "Ever use a slug thrower?"
"Not since training," Fox admits to keep himself from hauling Quinlan in and kissing him thoroughly.
Quinlan smirks slowly, not moving away. "All weapons make you feel like that or just slug throwers?"
It's pretend. This is fake or it's supposed to be, but how much Fox wants to get his hands on Quinlan is very real and he's absolutely sure Quinlan knows this. “Weren’t you just bragging about being able to control your baser urges?”
Quinlan laughs then kisses his forehead. Fox stills. His eyes close. He's never had anyone kiss his forehead before. It's surprisingly pleasant. Then Quinlan ruins it by saying, "Ohhhh, you liked that."
Fox opens his eyes and cradles Quinlan's head, tilting him so their foreheads rest against each other. "Hush or I'll have to roll my eyes."
"Wouldn't want that," Quinlan teases.
"Food," Fox reminds, as much for Quinlan as himself.
Quinlan sighs, but agrees. They untangle themselves and take each other's hands again.They get trays in the dining hall Quinlan leads him to. Fox hides his smile as he watches Quinlan interact with several of the younglings: answering a few questions and offering encouragement. Quinlan clearly cares about the younglings and they clearly enjoy his company. Eventually they make their way to Quinlan’s room. Fox’s never been to the part of the temple that held personal quarters. It feels private, but that will help him and Quinlan keep up their ruse and plan ahead.
Quinlan’s room is larger than he expected. It’s almost a small apartment. Quinlan has them settle their trays on a table that he clearly uses as a desk. Conveniently it’s got three chairs, all placed around the table so there’s a clear line of sight to the door. There’s a large bed in the far corner of the room with a plethora of pillows and blankets. There’s a nightstand near the bed with a lamp and at the end of the bed is a grey wood bench seat that looks as though it doubles as storage. There's another open door showing Quinlan’s refresher. In the corner across from the bed is a space that must have once been a closet, but is now full of shelves holding various knickknacks. There’s a wardrobe next to it that is made from the same distressed gray wood as the bed and nightstand. In the corner opposite the door is a floor lamp, a comfortable chair with a footstool, and a small table. The windows have blackout curtains that are open. There are two rugs, both look soft. There is a round one under the table, that’s mostly blue with a starburst pattern. There’s a larger rectangular rug that takes up the middle of the room. There’s a bright blue swirl that goes to dark grey, then light grey, then white in what almost looks like waves. There’s a round white chair in the middle of the rug, at least Fox thinks it’s a chair, it doesn’t have a back. There’s one painting on the wall: a beach scene with frothy water as it comes over the sand. The water itself is a bright blue fading into a darker blue. The sky is just starting to turn into hazy purples and pinks as the sun is at the horizon. Fox stares at it quietly for a moment. He grew up in the middle of an ocean, but somehow this beach with sand seems inviting.
Quinlan moves the data pads from his table to a chair, before sitting down. Fox takes the empty chair. He feels more relaxed now that he’s behind a closed door and only needs to interact with Quinlan. The first few times he came to the temple and felt low level anxiety bubbling within him Fox thought it might be because he was certain he’d find out that the Jedi viewed all the clones the same way the public did: as expendable soldiers made to fight this war for them. He knows that’s not true now, but the anxiety he feels when he comes here hasn’t gone away.
Quinlan shifts in his chair. His body is no longer languid and the smile is gone from his face. He looks suddenly tired. Maybe Quinlan did have a migraine earlier? What does getting thrown out of a vision do to a Jedi or a Kiffar? Fox tilts his head. “Did you need to do this another day?”
“No,” Quinlan shakes his head. He sighs, then gets up to get a blanket off his bed and wrap it around himself. He sits back down in his chair and picks up his fork. “I want you to stay. I just probably need to go to bed early.”
Fox nods. They eat in silence for several moments, but it’s a comfortable silence and Fox appreciates that. He finds silences relaxing. He knows not everyone does. Quinlan sets his fork down and grimaces as he sits back in his chair.
Fox frowns. “Are you able to tell me what’s wrong?”
Quinlan shrugs. “I’m just tired. I should be better by tomorrow. I need to eat though or I’ll be worse tomorrow.”
“Should you have gone to the Archives?”
“The book I was reading referenced another book and I wanted to see if I could borrow a copy,” Quinlan explains.
Fox nods.
Quinlan tries a smile. "I'll feel better after eating and getting some sleep. Would you stay the night?"
Fox's mouth suddenly goes dry. He tries to tell himself this isn't any different than when Cody or Wolffe are in the city and they drag him to bed for sex and to make sure he sleeps for multiple consecutive hours. It feels different though. He's going to fall for Quinlan Fox realizes and this is just a mission for Quinlan, an act to achieve an end. Clearly he finds the flirting fun and maybe they'll catch some corrupt Senators, but Fox still knows he's going to be hurt in the end when Quinlan doesn't reciprocate his feelings. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with that though. Maybe he’s not ready to find a relationship like he and Keeli had.
"Just for sleep," Quinlan clarifies. "I'm not up for anything else."
Fox wets his lips. He's not sure how to respond. He wants to stay. He always sleeps better if he's not alone in a berth. It will also help sell the lie that the two of them are actually together. Fox doesn't want to get hurt. He doesn’t want to hurt Quinlan either.
“You can borrow some sleep clothes,” Quinlan offers.
Fox thinks about protesting, about saying he can sleep in his blacks, but he’s also sure Quinlan’s clothes would be more comfortable. “Are your things even going to fit me?
Quinlan tilts his head. “We’ll manage. I already got a spare toothbrush for you.”
“Presumptuous much?”
Quinlan laughs, then explains, “More that I didn’t want to go back out once we got to my room. I knew I wouldn’t feel up to it.”
Fox nods, frowning. “Are you able to tell me what happened?”
“Do you know who Ayo Morota is?” Quinlan asks.
“Yes, she was leading a gang that was assassinating senators,” Fox says. “My men tend to die protecting senators so it was a relief when her gang was destroyed.”
Quinlan smiles at him: it’s wan and sad, then he explains his vision and how he knew Ayo. Fox eats slowly as he listens, occasionally prompting Quinlan to stop and take a bite. They’re finished with their plates before Quinlan finishes his story. Quinlan takes a hotplate and a teapot from his shelf and makes them tea while he continues. By the time he’s handing Fox a cup of tea he’s finished telling Fox what he saw. Fox isn’t sure what he wants to touch on first: how impressed he is that Quinlan took out Ayo’s gang by himself or how they’re going to find evidence against Senator Viento and just who he’s working for. He also wants to know who was guarding the room since the only guards for the Senate are his men or those specifically guarding the Chancellor. He and his men should’ve noticed outside security. The thought leaves him with an unsteady feeling that he’s not ready to touch on yet.
Fox sighs, then muses, "There's got to be a data trail. I'll start looking in the morning."
Quinlan frowns. Fox raises his eyebrows.
"When do you rest?" Quinlan asks.
"I'll rest when I'm dead, hypocrite."
Quinlan laughs and then winces. Clearly, since he's finished eating Quinlan needs that sleep he was talking about earlier.
Fox frowns. "Technically tomorrow is my 'day off' and I was planning to catch-up on paperwork, but I can look into this too. Finish your tea, we can figure the rest out in the morning and you look like you need to be in bed."
"You deserve rest too," Quinlan points out as he cradles his cup.
Fox shrugs. "Where can I put my armor?"
"Anywhere you'd like," Quinlan says, voice suddenly tired. He takes a sip of his tea.
Fox moves his helmet from the table to the chair in the corner before he takes his boots off and leaves them near the entrance. He slowly takes his armor off piece by piece, careful of the many weapons he has hidden within it. The whole time he can feel Quinlan watching him while slowly drinking his tea. He wants Quinlan to get rest, but they’ll both rest better if they both know exactly where he’s put all his weapons.
When he looks, Quinlan's gaze is intense and full of heat. Fox rolls his eyes. Quinlan smirks slowly, "How many weapons do you have?"
"Enough that if someone decides to take them all they'll unwittingly leave me a few."
Quinlan makes a thoughtful noise as he reaches for one of Fox’s vambraces. He turns it over in his hands, then stills. “There’s extra padding in this.”
He glances up at Fox. Fox shrugs.
“You hid something here, do you mind if I find it?” Quinlan asks. Quinlan’s brows are drawn together in concentration as he tilts his head.
Fox wets his lips. Most people don’t notice. Most people wouldn’t realize this means he’s hidden a weapon. Of course most people don't realize he's hiding additional weapons. “I don’t mind.”
Quinlan runs his fingers over the padding carefully, then works out the hair clip, which is actually a multitool. Quinlan holds it carefully, smiling. “I haven’t seen one of these in years.”
Fox stills. He doesn’t have to explain. He once again suddenly, desperately, wants to kiss Quinlan. Quinlan’s smile goes soft as he carefully slips the hair clip back into its hiding place. Quinlan sets the vambrace down and stands slowly. Fox frowns, there’s a stiffness to his movements, as though he’s holding himself carefully. Quinlan takes a slow, deep breath, before explaining in an even tone, “I just need to brush my teeth, put up my hair, and get some sleep.”
“You overextended yourself.” Fox knows he can’t really fault Quinlan for that, considering he’s constantly doing the same thing.
Quinlan shrugs, then brushes a kiss against Fox’s temple as he steps close. “The first drawer has sleep pants. Thanks for spending the night. I do better when I’m not alone.”
“I sleep better with someone else too,” Fox admits.
Quinlan nods. “Do you want the inside or the outside?”
Fox hesitates.
Quinlan takes his hands and squeezes them in reassurance. “I’m good with either, what’s your preference?”
Neither of them are wearing their usual gloves or gauntlets and the rareness of feeling bare skin while holding hands catches at Fox’s attention. Quinlan’s hands are different from a vods, his fingers longer and more tapered. It makes him want to learn all the groves and calluses of Quinlan’s hands. Fox blinks as he stares down at their joined fingers, letting himself enjoy the feel of them for a moment longer, before he gives himself a mental shake and comes back to the question Quinlan just asked him. “Inside.”
Quinlan squeezes his hands again. “If you start having a nightmare do you want me to wake you or mentally nudge you towards something better?”
Fox stills. “Please don’t go in my head.”
He’s not sure why that thought unsettles him so much, but he’s suddenly nauseous.
Quinlan frowns at him, letting go of his hands abruptly. “I’ll wake you up then.”
As he watches Quinlan head towards the bathroom Fox worries he accidentally hurt him. He thought Kiffars had to touch objects to get a read on them, but that it didn’t work by touching people. Is it different for Quinlan? They’ll need to have a discussion on how exactly his psychomentry works.
Chapters: [1] [2][3][4]