#mistflyer fanfiction

[mistflyer1102]

support

A/N: For Day 2 of @flufftober. I'll get Day 1 posted soon.

Prompt: Family, friends and loved ones.

Warnings: Brief discussion of family losses.

Pairing: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers

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Sharon felt a hell of a lot better after her nap and the late lunch that followed.

She leaned her head against Steve’s shoulder as they walked through the tourist crowds in Boston that surrounded the neighboring aquarium. In hindsight, she was glad that she brought her sunglasses with her on the trip, given that they were on the coast and the sun was still blazing directly from above. As she closed her eyes, she could hear cars and buses honking at each other, the dreaded duck quackers going off somewhere nearby — she was sorely tempted to buy one just for prank purposes now — and the general murmur of other tourists and visitors. “I knew it was going to be crowded here since it it’s July, but damn, I seriously miscalculated how many of our fellow tourists we’d be jostling for space with here,” she said, leaning her head further against Steve’s shoulder as a salt-tinged breeze blew in from the ocean.

Steve said “At least we didn’t come up for the Fourth of July. I bet the crowds are worse then,” as he playfully nudged her with a hip. “And crowds are always part of the experience when vacationing. Natasha was right, you don’t get out often enough,” he said, laughing when she elbowed him gently in the side.

“Hey, we had a ton of fun on the Fourth of July and I wouldn’t trade that for anything else in the world. As for the vacations thing, you can thank Fury for that. When I first started as a full field agent, I remember being excited at their generous vacation policy. Then I found out it’s because they send you onto the field for months at a time,” she said, looking up at Steve, who glanced down at her. “Dad was patient and understanding when I told him. Mom…not so much when she found out. She didn’t want me to be constantly in danger, she could never agree with my dad about that. He wanted me to follow my dreams, she wanted me to be safe. To be fair, I can see both their sides, but I really wanted to join SHIELD. She and I ended up agreeing to disagree and just never talked about it when we saw each other,” she admitted, frowning as she looked ahead. She could see a parent redirecting their child from the slushie van that was parked along a nearby curb.

“I’m sorry if this brings up a painful memory, but are they still around?”

She shakes her head. “No. She passed away when I was MIA for over a year, Dad not long after. Never had a reason to take a vacation after that. I’d been roommates with Natasha for about a year when I finally met you, and she was a different class of agent then.”

Steve rubbed her back. “I’m sorry to hear that about your parents. My mom was a nurse and a single parent until she got hit with tuberculosis. After that, it was me and Bucky watching out for each other until the war started.” He looked at her. “And, well, you know what happened next. And here we are.”

She smiled back at him. “And here we are. You’ve got a support network now, yeah?”

He smiled back at her. “And that network includes my family. You, Bucky, Nat, and Sam.”

She grinned at him. "It can include whomever you want to include. Me, Bucky, Nat, Sam. Your teammates. Clint, Carol, Thor…” here she smirked and said, “Tony.”

She laughed at his grimace. “Okay, okay, I was teasing you, I know the two of you are butting heads again about the level of authority and reach the Avengers should have for an international group working for a domestic organization,” she said as she turned to face him. “The point is that your network includes whomever you want, even if they’re all the way in another dimension.”

He said “Tony is in the network, as much as he pisses me off every other day over things that even I’ll admit are dumb at the end of the day. At least for some topics, I still think the Avengers need to strictly define their reach for diplomacy purposes at the very least.” He gave her a rueful smile. “He and I are both stubborn, I think that’s part of the problem. But if we need to, we can call a truce and work together without letting personal issues get in the way."

Sharon tilted her head. “Is that what we’re calling the kerfuffle over the sparklers during the Fourth of July party? A ‘compromise’? I honestly thought you guys were going to stab each other with them."

“One, no one got hurt. Two, we were both sober when we did that, three, the sparklers weren’t lit yet, and four, we both admitted to removing the sparkler box from Bucky’s fireworks stash before we even realized he had a stash,” Steve said, holding up a finger for each point. He then asked “Did you see the size of that stash before the party started?”

Sharon shook her head, making a face. “No, it was already half gone when I even realized there was a stash to begin with. I’m jealous you saw it,” she said, tugging on his arm. “C’mon, the slushie van is calling my name.”

He followed, but she sensed he was letting her pull him along. “For what it’s worth, it was absolutely worth Bucky’s annoyance to have a sparkler duel with Tony. I can see if Bucky has pictures of the overall stash, but if he’s smart, he won’t. New York has strict laws about it, which is why I’m almost certain Bucky never said a word to anyone else about it. I also think that’s why he hosted the party at the harbor,” he said, taking longer strides to catch up to her again. He wrapped his arm around hers and took her hand. “Who is in your support network?”

She glanced at him, mulling it over as she looked back the slushie van they were approaching. The parent from earlier was now herding the bawling child away from the van and back to what she presumed was the rest of the family. She felt a tiny pang of something, but pushed it back down: she’d made it this far on her own, before Steve came along. “You, Nat, Bucky, Sam, Bobbi, I gotta include Tony because while he’s a pain in the ass sometimes, his dad and Aunt Peggy stayed in touch for years after the war and it became a ‘friend I see over every summer whether we like it or not’ situation. Clint, because we trained together before we got split up as part of special-agent training.” She paused, and then said, “I think that’s it for me.”

He squeezed her hand gently, and she squeezed it back as she slowed down to look back at him. He then lifted their hands to kiss the back of hers. “I’m not going anywhere, promise,” he said, and she couldn’t help but smile at the earnestness in his voice.

“Thanks. I’m not going anywhere either,” she whispered.

He didn’t let go of her hand as they resumed walking to the van. She didn’t let go of his either.

[mistflyer1102]

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers

WIP: Flufftober ficlet

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"Hey, is your back still bothering you?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Nothing a little ibuprofen can't help," she whispered back.

He said "Here, scoot closer to me."

She gave him a small smile before she obeyed, scooting forward and tucking her head underneath his chin. He carefully tucked her against his body in an embrace, and then began to rub her back with the heel of his hand. "Tell me where the knots are," he whispered. "I've got you, it's okay," he added when she began to make soft yet firm noises in her throat that he knew preceded the 'I'll be fine' protests.

[mistflyer1102]

lesson

Summary: While waiting for Q, Bond teaches the techs a thing or two about improvisation.

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“You ask him.”

“No, you ask him! You’ve been here longer!”

“Which is why I’m smart enough not to take that bet.”

Bond tilted his head as he calmly walked up to one group of huddled techs smack dab in the middle of Technical Services in Q-Branch. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet -- Marcela even looked up and waved when she saw him -- but none of the other techs seemed to notice, intently focused on something in the middle of the table. He slowed down though, when Marcela detached herself from the group and walked over, smiling cheerfully. Not an emergency then, given that it’s actually quiet and calm for once, he mused to himself as he stopped in front of Marcela. “Good morning, am I interrupting something? Q left something at home, thought I would drop it off for him,” he said gesturing to the knot of techs that were now all standing stiff.

“Nope, they’re just figuring out whether to make bets on one of the double-ohs,” she said, smiling as she shrugged her shoulders. As third-in-command of the branch, Bond knew she had seen and heard all in Q-Branch. Betting on Double-Os did not faze her very much anymore. “Anyway, Q is in a meeting right now with the R&D guys, do you want me to take whatever it is he forgot and hold onto it?” she offered, extending a hand.

Bond shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m not in a rush. And I’m intrigued by this bet. Which agent are they betting on and about what?” he asked, glancing over at the knot of techs. He could see that one or two were already trying to discreetly, casually, shuffle away from the group.

Marcela arched a brow at him.

Oh.

Bond inclined his head at her before moving towards the group. Some of them had to be new, the veterans knew he wouldn’t actually do anything to them. Well, nothing to warrant a stern reprimand from Q, which was just about anything and everything. Only Q could get away with giving Bond shit, which he did more often than his techs actually knew. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” Bond said, leaning in between the techs closet to him. There were numerous squeaks of surprise and murmured hellos as they shifted slightly in place to give him room. “So, enlighten me. What are we talking about? Something that the benevolent overlord shall not hear about?” he asked, grinning when a few techs blinked at him in surprise. They had to be new, all of Q’s staff knew that Bond knew the in-house nickname for Q.

For a moment, no one spoke. Bond could almost see them silently debating who was going to deal with the Double-O at their table. “Um, no, I guess not? It’s, uh, really not that important, or work-related, anyway,” one of the techs -- definitely a newcomer, Bond didn’t recognize him -- said finally, gesturing to the tabletop. Bond looked down to see a few innocuous items, including a pencil, a sheet of paper, a ceramic saucer, a rubber band, and a set of car keys. The tech shifted uncomfortably when Bond looked back up at him. “Well, Max and I are new to the Technical Services Station, we just started last week, and a bunch of the others are saying that double-ohs can weaponize anything you give them. I, er, we don’t quite know what to think, or believe,” the tech admitted, scratching the back of his neck as Bond hummed thoughtfully.

“And you’re betting that I can or can’t weaponize everything on this table?” Bond asked, picking up the keys to study them. He was mildly annoyed to find that the car manufacturer was not emblazoned on the main key as it usually was.

Another tech said, “Well, we can kind of guess on the pencil, I’m Max by the way, that’s Eddie. Anyway, we can guess that the pencil, you can just throw it like a dart at someone,” Max said, gesturing to the first tech before leaning on the table. “But...yeah, the Quartermaster complains every now and then that he can’t give you guys anything because it ends up wrecked somehow, and I didn’t think that it was possible to do that with every little thing in existence. So we pooled these items as examples.”

Bond nodded. “Well, you can also stick the pencil into a space where it doesn’t belong, mechanical gears are the usual place since it jams everything up. Did that to an alarm clock once, that was also the one and only time Q ever overslept to date as an MI6 employee,” he said, setting the pencil down. “But imagine doing that to a car, or some overly large weapon.”

The techs nodded, one of them grimacing.

“Keys...keys are useful as weapons on their own, and for the cars they usually work for,” he said, turning to Marcela, who was tapping something out on her tablet. “Where did you get these? Is Q hiding a new prototype from me?”

“No, they are replacement keys for my car, and I was the only one in the group who had their keys with them. Please don’t wreck my car, I really like it,” Marcela said, not looking up from her work.

Bond set the keys back down on the table next to the pencil. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to touch your car. Promise,” he said, crossing his heart with a finger as Marcela glanced up at him. “Employee cars are off-limits.”

She blinked.”Really? I actually didn’t know that.”

Bond nodded. “The only employee car I’m allowed to drive is Q’s, and that’s in emergencies only,” he said, picking up the saucer. He held it up for the techs to see. “Useful for either causing distractions, or for buttering Q up if you want something from him. He normally drinks his tea in that Scrabble mug of his, but if you really want to up the ante a bit, bring it to him in a teacup and saucer when he’s sitting down for a meeting with the other department heads. Almost works every time.”

Eddie frowned. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘almost’?” he asked, resting his hands on the table.

Bond said, “Q got even more irritated with me once when I did that because it was more of an apology than a bribe.” He set the saucer down, and then reached for the rubber band. “I don’t think I need to go into the applications of all this, but it’s good for keeping doors closed enough that no one can immediately crash in when you’re working, but should only be used as a last resort. It’s also good for securing the plastic wrap around the laundry detergent to lessen the mess when one of the cats knocks the container down off the machine,” he said, turning the rubber band over in his hands.

“Don’t you have a cap to the container, sir?”

Bond said, “We had a cap, it disappeared one day. When small items disappear in our flat with two cats around, you have to accept the fact that you’re never going to see it again.” He set the rubber band back down, and he didn’t miss the sense of anticipation suddenly heightening as he picked up the sheet of paper. “This… this you can just straight up set on fire and go from there,” he said, grinning as the techs blinked, and began to mutter amongst themselves. Bond glanced over his shoulder, and then grinned when he saw who was approaching them.

Eddie raised his hands. “Yeah, yeah, I should have thought of that,” he admitted, taking a step back as Bond handed him the piece of paper. “Okay, Max, you win, you win,” he said, grinning as he handed a few quid over to Max, who cackled as he pocketed the money.

“What is going on over here?”

Abrupt silence fell over the group as Q appeared, still looking a little grumpy from the meeting. Only Bond and Marcela didn't react, Bond grinning at Q as Marcela continued tapping away at her tablet. Q stared at the items on the table, and then turned to Bond. “Please...I do not know what you are doing here, but I want this branch to be standing by the end of the day.”

“And it will, we were just settling a bet,” Bond replied. “Nothing is getting destroyed today, promise. I just came by to drop off your tea tin, the one you brought home last night to refill,” he said, offering the tin to Q. “Nothing is broken, and the cats are fine.”

Q studied him suspiciously, and then glanced at his techs, who discreetly dispersed back to their work stations. Then he nodded. “Thank you, James, for bringing me this. I need it, especially since I’m about to go into a budget meeting with M and the Treasury. If you decide to stay here, please stay out of the techs’ way, let them do their job, and do not make a nuisance of yourself,” he said, smiling at Bond before his attention strayed back to his phone.

Bond swept a mock bow as Q turned to leave. “Of course, my Quartermaster.”

He laughed when Q flipped him off over his shoulder.

[mistflyer1102]

visit

A/N: AU in that Etain told Darman about the pregnancy sooner.

Summary: Darman visits his infant son while on Coruscant.

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It was almost midnight when Darman and Atin arrived at the little apartment above the Kuggerat.

Laseema’s face lit up when she opened the door. “Darman, Atin, it’s good to see both of you,” she whispered as she stepped back to let them enter. “Kad’s asleep right now, and Etain isn’t home,” she added as the two of them walked into the apartment. Darman glanced around the room before his attention was drawn towards where he knew his son slept; Etain had mentioned that Kad’s room was towards the end of the hall. Darman pulled his jacket off, and gently shook his head when Laseema offered to take it. She nodded, and then turned to the two of them. “Kal and Sergeant Vau have been gone all day, Besany and I are taking bets as to whether I’m going to get a call from Captain Obrim,” she said as Darman hung his jacket up on the hook.

“Probably not, I can see Captain Obrim bailing anyone out if ever got to that point. We did see Etain briefly, she was supposed to come home with us,” Atin said as he pulled his jacket off. Darman didn’t miss the way Atin’s jaw twitched at the mention of Sergeant Vau.

“She got redirected, she’s got a mission to the Outer Rim with Captain Maze. Something hush - hush involving another legion,” Darman said, grinning when Atin snorted. “Maze meanwhile is probably just happy to get out of the office for a change.”

“You mean like Niner? I know Corr is familiar with Mereel’s idea of a night on the town, but I think Niner is going to be in for a surprise,” Atin said, grinning. Darman snorted at the memory. Mereel had dropped into the squad’s barracks - literally - after they had finished with showers, and somehow managed to coax Niner into joining him and Corr. Darman could still recall the look of wariness on Niner’s face as Corr helped build Mereel’s case. Darman meanwhile had refused the invite, hoping to see Kad, and Atin joined him. Atin later admitted, as they walked towards the Kuggerat, that he’d been figuring out how to sneak off to see Laseema while they were still on Coruscant.

“Well, I’m hoping Niner may just have a chance to relax,” Darman said finally. “He’s definitely earned it.” He glanced at Laseema. “I was kind of hoping to see Kad… should I wait if he’s asleep?”

Laseema shook her head. “No, you can go in there now. He may wake up, but that’s normal for babies his age,” she said, smiling softly.

Darman nodded, and then headed down the short hall to his son’s bedroom.

He could hear Kad whimpering from the crib as he eased the door open. The room was mostly dark except for a soft gold light emanating from a fish-shaped night light in the corner of the room. Darman let out a slow exhale before he approached the crib, where the cries were getting louder. “Hey there,” he whispered as he looked down at his son. Kad was wearing a small outfit that had little animal prints all over it, and his face was scrunched up into a tiny scowl. He was a bit bigger than Darman remembered, less fragile-looking, but Darman still hesitated to pick him up. He still remembered how to do it from the night Kal first brought Kad to the apartment. The same night Etain told him everything.

I’ve handled all sorts of fragile things before. I can do this.

Not to mention, Kad was getting louder. Darman knew how much Atin missed Laseema, and he didn’t want to bother either of them.

He leaned forward, and slid one hand gently under Kad, careful to keep Kad’s head supported. Kad’s cries tapered off into soft whimpers when Darman reached in with his other hand. Kad then blinked in confusion as Darman slowly finished getting him into the position that Kal had shown Darman the last time Darman held the baby. Kad let out a few more whimpers as Darman carefully lifted him out of the crib, and then began to cry again as Darman adjusted his position once more. Then Darman carefully sat in the rocking chair, he’d read somewhere that babies generally liked gentle rocking movements. He settled Kad into the crook of his harm as he began to rock the chair slowly.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this,” he said finally, tilting his head as Kad hiccuped through another round of sobs. “But I’m going to be on Coruscant for a few days, and I’ll try to visit when I can,” he whispered as he continued to rock the chair. He’d have to be careful, with General Zey still on Coruscant even if Maze was off-planet. He’d still try to visit though. Etain had explained that the Order could not recruit Kad without parental or guardian consent, and Mustafar would freeze over long before that happened, but Darman didn’t want to tempt fate. He looked back down at Kad, who was still hiccuping. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and your mom will come here soon,” he said, grinning with a conviction he didn’t feel. He had no idea when she would return, if at all. Her comm frequency had been disconnected the last time he tried, and Ordo hadn’t known she was on assignment at all when Darman asked him about it.

Ordo said he would look into it, but so far… no news.

Darman looked down again to see Kad was still making faces through tears, but he was quieting down now. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this, he thought as he continued to gently rock the chair.

He had a standard week on Coruscant, barring any emergency. Plenty of time.

[mistflyer1102]

bugs

A/N: ImpComm era, AU in which Etain survives Order 66.

Summary: A short conversation between Etain and Kad about bugs while heading inside for the day.

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As soon as she could see the clouds, Etain knew it was almost time to go back inside.

“Kad? Kad, we need to go back inside before it starts snowing,” she called, scanning the clumps of frost-coated grasses. She could barely make out the ground in the early evening light, and given that it was off the beaten path, she knew the grass was also tall. She could hear her son’s soft giggles nearby, and could sense him a few feet ahead of her. However, she could also tell that by hiding, he had no intentions of going back inside anytime soon. Snowfall or not, he planned to stay outside as long as he could. She had only meant to let him loose for a couple hours - the sun had actually come out that morning - to burn off some energy, but they ended up staying outside all day. She never planned to wander far from the family home on Mandalore, though, and could still see it if she turned around and looked back.

Etain took a step back when the patch of grass in front of her abruptly shook as Kad pushed them aside. “But Mama, you haven’t seen my hiding spot yet. It’s around here somewhere,” he said, pulling himself to his feet. Etain knelt slightly to brush off the dirt from his head, arms, shoulders, and torso. “Mird helped me find it,” he said while looking up at her with a grin, before he wrinkled his nose and grudgingly turned around at her encouragement.

“Really? What else did Mird show you?” she asked as she brushed the rest of the dirt off of his back. She took his hand in hers as he twisted around to face her again, and winced at how cold his fingers felt against hers. “Where are your gloves?” she asked as she leaned over his head to check his other hand.

He stuffed his hand into his coat pocket before she could see. “I don’t know. Mird was helping me look for bugs when we found a hole that we could crawl into. We could only go in one at a time, but it had roots and a lot of bugs,” he said, hunching his shoulders as he and Etain began to walk back to their house. Etain could see that more lights were on than earlier when she had last looked back. Even after four years on Mandalore, Etain still easily lost track of time. She and Darman had moved out of the main Skirata household about a year after she’d recovered from Order 66, but remained close by.

Etain couldn’t help wrinkling her nose at the mention of bugs. Well, that explains the beetles in the nightstand drawer last week. “Well, maybe we don’t bring the bugs to bed with you next time?” she suggested as she guided Kad back to the house. She gently squeezed Kad’s shoulder as a thought occurred to her. “Maybe if you ask Buir nicely, he can help you build something to put the bugs in next time you go collecting with Mird,” she suggested as they walked.

Kad glanced up at her. “Can I keep it in my room?”

Etain said, “If it’s secure enough that the bugs don’t get out, then yes, you may keep it in your room.”

“Can Mird help?”

Etain hummed. “Ask Uncle Walon when he comes to visit, okay?” she said, wrapping a gentle arm around Kad’s shoulders.

Kad was quiet. “And no bugs in the baby’s room, right?”

Ah. Ruusan had warned Etain that this might happen, when Etain and Darman had started planning for a second child last year. Having grown up in the Temple crèche there had been no competition for attention that she could recall, not as a child herself or when she visited the crèche as a Padawan to assist the crèche masters. Darman had grown up with his original squadmates. He’d once told her that while he hadn’t experienced much competition with his squadmates, there had definitely been competition among the squads. Ruusan Skirata, despite being the youngest of three, had heard from her siblings about what it was like having a new sibling in the house. Especially when Ruusan’s older brother, Tor, had had several kids of his own. Illippi may have been alone raising the three of them, but Ruusan said Illippi did her best to keep things fair among the three siblings.

Etain technically wasn’t showing yet, she and Darman planned to keep it a secret for now. But they’d told Kad, and Etain hoped to slowly get him used to the idea of a sibling before the baby was born. But she didn’t push, she wanted Kad to adjust to the idea at his pace. She’d reassured him that despite the changes, she and Darman would still love him as much as they do now.

She finally said, “Well, no, maybe not right away. We don’t know yet what kind of bugs your brother or sister will like, or if they like bugs at all. We should probably wait to see what happens, okay?”

Kad looked up at her, and she gave him an encouraging smile as they came to a stop a few meters from the entrance. “Buir is still gonna help me make that thing to keep the bugs in, right?”

Etain nodded. “I’m sure he will if you ask nicely.”

Kad chirped, “Okay!” before making a dash across the yard to the door. Etain winced as some mud splashed up in his wake. She sighed, and smiled faintly to herself as she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself before following Kad into the house.

She still checked Kad's bedroom that night, while Kad was in his bath, for any loose bugs.

[mistflyer1102]

Well, I just found around 12-20 00Q ficlets from my Tumblr, on my laptop, that I meant to post on AO3. Years ago. My bad, I’ll start posting those tomorrow for a mini Throwback Thursday.

[mistflyer1102]

sunday six

Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.

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“Hey, I’ll be right back, I need to talk to Sergeant Vau about something really quick,” Etain whispered to Darman.

Darman nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right here,” he whispered, gently squeezing her fingers back.

She smiled at him as she stood, and then murmured “Excuse me,” as she slipped past the small group. Her fingers slid from Darman’s, and she glanced back at him for just a moment before walking towards Vau sat.

Vau was either a light sleeper, or he had just been dozing. Either way, as Etain approached him, he straightened in his seat while keeping Mird more or less in the same position on his lap.

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From Chapter 5 of Divergent Path.

[mistflyer1102]

hallucinate

A/N: AU in that Etain told Darman about the pregnancy sooner. Also, warnings for near-death experience.

Summary: His presence is a comfort.

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Whoever said your life flashes before your eyes, before you die, was wrong.

The thought passed briefly through Etain Tur-Mukan’s mind as she attempted to nudge herself a few centimeters to the left without falling over completely. Somehow, despite the fact that her body had gone numb and stiff from the cold of the Telosian nights and wintery days long ago, she was still feeling a little bit of pain from the metal fragment, part of the downed larty’s door she’d taken refuge in, digging into her shoulder blades. She had long stopped moving if she could help it, sharp pain lancing through her body every time she moved, and had stopped using the Force to scan for threats long ago. She also had no idea if the Redeemer was still in orbit or not, she had lost contact with the Redeemer days ago, when the attempted invasion of the Separatist-held city went very, very wrong in the matter of seconds. She didn’t even know how many standard days ago the resulting devastation had been, she had drifted in and out of consciousness since then.

I know Intel screws up, Dar, but really? Do they screw up this badly?

General Grievous. No one had warned her, nor the Jedi Knight accompanying her and the troops, that Grievous would be here as well. He’d made quick work of the Knight accompanying them, and she had a few precious hours to draw him away from the troops before he caught up to her. She’d given parting orders to the commander in charge -- continue the campaign without me and alert the Redeemer. Do not come after me -- and began to draw Grievous away from the troops. And her plan worked. Grievous followed her to the crash site where the Separatists had shot down two larties earlier that week. Where she knew there would be no men for Grievous to hurt. 

But he nearly killed her in the process. Even days later -- she couldn’t quite remember the number of sunrises she’d counted anymore -- she was mildly surprised that she had woken up at all after Grievous finally threw her into the air, in the direction of the crashed larty that she now lay against. Her lightsabers were long gone, her wounds from Grievous still untreated and undoubtedly infected by now, there was a dull throb in the back of her skull, her face and hands numbed from the cold, skin tight with barely healed injuries, but she was still breathing. Somehow. In another life, she may have seen it as a sign from the Force, but now, after having lost her faith and trust in the only life she had ever known on Qiilura...she wasn’t so sure.

Force, I miss you, Darman. I know we have our duties, but I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you one last time.

Etain closed her eyes, shifting her thoughts back to Darman and Kad. Darman… she couldn’t tell where he was at the moment, just that he was alert and his attention was narrowed and focused -- on a mission then. She withdrew her awareness, not wanting to disturb him. She could still feel Kad in the Force, through the bond that she’d had with him since his birth. Kad was content, and she hoped he still remembered her and Darman despite the little time the two got with him. Telling Darman that night about her pregnancy, when Kal introduced the baby to Omega Squad, had been absolutely terrifying, and it had taken a few more days for the two to reconcile afterwards. During the reconciliation, she had mentioned leaving the Jedi Order, once the war was over, so they could be a family. Darman had started imagining a future there, for the three of them.

I’m sorry, Dar, that we won’t be able to get that particular future now.

Etain let out a slow exhale, blinking when she slowly realized that the blurred gray-blue line she’d been staring at, for what felt like hours now, was actually the craggy tree line as the sun rose yet again. Another morning. She’d lived through another night. She closed her eyes, a twinge of despair fluttering in her stomach as she slowly realized she had already lost feeling in her fingers and limbs, and could not recall how long it had been like that. Not long now. She let out another slow exhale, watching the white puff of air dissipate into the skies. Her ribs were aching with each breath, she could still feel that. She closed her eyes, slowing her breaths to lessen the dulling pain.

Dar. She could sense him again, still focused and alert on his task at hand. She tried not to distract him in those moments, but she also took a modicum of comfort in sensing his familiar presence. She then tried to withdraw, to let him work undisturbed, but his presence lingered, a calm and steady reassurance that she leaned against for the briefest of seconds before withdrawing her awareness further. But her concentration failed a few seconds later, she felt worn down from fatigue and injury. 

He felt close enough now, actually, that she could almost imagine that he was there, on Telos Six, with his squad. He’d move carefully and purposefully through the trees, unhindered and not slowed down by bothersome Jedi trying to keep up with him. Maybe, he was listening to Fi’s wisecracks in the background comm chatter. Fi, who would be trying to spark a reaction from Atin while also providing a running commentary of any gleaned intelligence. Niner, she knew, would be reminding them to stay focused on the objective that Master Zey had given them prior to their deployment. 

A spike of alertness from Darman brought her wandering thoughts back to reality. He’d spotted something. Etain tried to withdraw her awareness again, as to not distract him. He’d told her once, that he could sense when she was near him. She let a small exhale when her concentration slipped again, and she remained still, unable to summon the focus necessary for a complete withdrawal. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to once again pull back her awareness, as to not distract him. The resulting darkness was more...alluring, than she ever suspected, pulling her into its depths even as she clung to the threads of her bonds. Those she could not let go just yet. 

There is no death, there is the Force.

Alertness shifted to determination, and his presence grew stronger. She wasn’t sure if she imagined the sound of soft crunching of dirt, twigs and leaves that was slowly coming close to her. She heard a soft clicking, one she’d heard many times as the men removed or sealed their helmets, but her eyelids felt too heavy for her to check. She tried to send a little reassurance to both Darman and Kad even as she felt her consciousness ebb from her grasp.

The last thing she thought she heard was her name in a familiar whisper.

A whisper that did not stop.

[mistflyer1102]

parade

A/N: ImpComm era, AU in which Etain survives Order 66.

Summary: A family trip to Keldabe takes an unexpected turn.

-----------------------

It didn’t take long for the Empire to reach Mandalore.

Etain sat in an alcove next to a shop, one of a few that lined the central roads in Keldabe, with Darman at her side and Kad in her arms. A’den, who had accompanied them on this trip, was hanging out at a nearby stall, for all intents and purposes watching the unofficial parade of Imperial stormtroopers making their way to the recently-completed garrison. Bad timing really, Jaing even said before the three of them left that if there was a timetable for construction, it was a mystery given how well hidden it was. Etain watched the stormtroopers pass, unable to stop wondering if she knew them. Darman pretended to read a datapad, and was somewhat crowding her and Kad out of sight. Etain pretended she was fussing with Kad’s jacket, sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye. She hoped that her own appearance, with her hair bound and tucked underneath her coat, didn’t stick out as much as she feared she did.

Okay, this may have been a bad idea after all.

A’den waited until the last few stormtroopers had passed before lazily walking over to the three of them. “It looks like we have new neighbors,” he remarked as he sat down on Darman's other side. “Kal’buir is probably going to insist on armor next time we head out,” he commented quietly as he watched the garrison gates close, leaving two stormtroopers outside on guard duty. “If Delta’s intel is correct, we all have bounties on our heads.”

Etain glanced at A’den as Darman hummed in agreement. She had always figured she would have a bounty, being a former Jedi knight, but the fact that Kal Skirata and Walon Van had bounties since before the Empire... well, she felt like she shouldn’t be surprised, but she still was when Scorch mentioned it weeks ago, when Delta finally arrived to Kyrimorut.

Darman seemed to be thinking the same thing. “What do they want Kal for? General Zey always turned a blind eye to his activities,” he said, glancing at A’den.

A’den leaned over and muttered, “Officially, espionage. Unofficially, Ordo thinks Palpatine suspects Kal got involved and interfered with the search for Ko Sai. Zey submitted the report and evidence that Delta gave him, but we always knew Palpatine had eyes and ears everywhere.”

Darman nodded, his grip tightening slightly around Etain’s waist. She still remembered that conversation, about her few months on Mandalore when she was still pregnant with Kad. She could still recall the soft whispers in the dark as they lay facing each other, the bedsheets still smelling of the antiseptic Mij used to treat her blaster wounds. It had been the first of many conversations since she woke up at Kyrimorut, weeks after Order 66, and she had told him her entire recollection of her time with Ko Sai.

Darman’s voice brought her out of her musings. “And Vau? Scorch said Vau was pulled in to do something at Zey’s request.”

A’den snorted. “Guilty by association, I’m guessing. Not that Vau cares, they both say we are the safest here. Aside from a few notable exceptions, no one here is going to turn another Mandalorian in,” he said, nudging Darman with an elbow. “That being said, let’s not tempt fate. Kal’buir will want to know about this,” he added, standing up.

Etain whispered, “We can always try again, but at Enceri instead,” to Darman as she began to collect Kad’s things, carefully keeping Kad balanced with her other arm. “We didn’t know this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I had known.”

Darman gave her a rueful smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have agreed to come if I knew this was going to happen,” he said, leaning down to pick up Kad’s fallen jacket.

“You and me both.” Etain set a wiggling Kad down, and then reached back up to fix her hair, tucking it back underneath the hood of her coat. “Kad, Kad, sweetie, listen to me,” she said, kneeling to Kad’s level. She smiled when he looked at her. “I know you were looking forward to this trip, but we need to go home since it’s not safe here.”

It looked like for a moment Kad was going to protest, his eyebrows knitting as he scrunched his face up. Etain didn’t blame him, they had planning this trip for almost a month. Then his shoulders sank, his body deflated, and he looked down as he stuck out his lower lip.

Etain pulled him into a hug. “I know you were excited about this trip, I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear. “We'll do something fun when we get home.”

Kad nodded before wrapping his arms around her neck. She scooped him up, shifting his weight so that she had a better grip on him. She then began walking to rejoin Aiden and Darman, who were waiting ahead of her. Kad finally leaned his head against Etain’s neck, and she tried to think about the next few hours ahead—specifically the logistics of returning home—to keep her own panic down. She quietly feared for Kad’s safety, both for now, and in the unknown future.

Darman wrapped an arm around her waist, and the four of them quietly disappeared into the hubbub of Keldabe.

[mistflyer1102]

comfort

A/N: For Day 2 of @flufftober fluff challenge. Read on AO3 here.

Summary: Mara isn't feeling well, and Luke does his best to offer comfort.

---------------------------------------

“Here, Mara, this might help you feel better.”

Mara grunted, and then stuck her head out from her cocoon of blankets to give her husband a bleary stink-eye as he knelt beside where she was wrapped on the couch, right near her head. The doctor, upon diagnosing a seasonal flu— since when did Coruscant ever have severe enough seasonal changes to cause the flu? Who is in charge of the weather right now? I want to have words with them —had advised bed rest and fluids, and to avoid interstellar travel until she’d recovered. But at least it was Coruscant, which meant that not only was family near in case help was needed, but it also meant that Luke wouldn’t be gone for extended periods of time as he went to get whatever supplies they needed. For which...she was quietly grateful. 

Luke offered the still-steaming bowl of broth, and Mara resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the smell. It wasn’t quite bland… but there was something there she couldn’t identify. “There’s no flavor to that, is there?” she asked, voice hoarse and scratchy. “If there’s no flavor, I don’t want it,” she said, already wiggling back down so she could bury her head in the blankets and under the pillow again.

“Oh, there’s flavor, I cleared my nose out when I was tasting it earlier. It’ll definitely help your throat feel better,” Luke said. She heard him moving around, and then the slight weight against her side as he leaned his head back. She then felt him turning his head so that he was facing where her head was buried. “And I made it all by myself without adult supervision,” he added, and she could just see the shit-eating grin on his face in her mind. She knew that tone so well. 

Force. Before, and when she just met him, she used to think that as a starfighter pilot, his cooking would be halfway decent with him having to learn to improvise on the spot with whatever ingredients he had available to him. What she apparently failed to take into account was that his upbringing on Tatooine meant that he wasn’t a picky eater, and if it was edible, it was good to go as food. She knew what was safe and what was not in the event she needed to improvise, but Luke didn’t seem to care as long as it was edible for humans. As she got to know him, she found that he favored simple, light meals if given the option, but he was open to trying new things. Once married, they had been learning different recipes together since returning from their honeymoon almost five months ago. She found out then that while he picked up concepts and recipes quickly, he also liked to experiment in the kitchen...which always ended with mixed results.

And she knew he’d been tasting the soup he offered her now, she could hear the Huttese expletives all the way from the kitchen for the past three hours. 

She cautiously poked her head out from the cocoon. “No bugs?”

Luke snorted. “That was once, and on a dare. I don’t think Captain Rex thought I was going to actually do it,” he said, offering the still-steaming bowl. “Just a few bites, then you can rest some more,” he said, setting the bowl on the floor so he could stand up.

Mara grumbled under her breath but, despite the headache pounding behind her eyes, she slowly began to wiggle her cocoon and inch her way up the back of the sofa. Luke hovered for a few moments, and then slid right into the first open spot he found, gently reaching around her to help her maneuver herself into a sitting position. She looked up to see Artoo warbling cheerfully in the doorway as Luke leaned forward and used the Force to bring the bowl closer to himself so he could pick it up. “I’m gonna burn my mouth, aren’t I?” she asked, gingerly moving her hands through the blanket folds so she could take the bowl from him. It was warm to the touch, but not as hot as she privately feared.

“Nope. Well, you shouldn’t,” Luke said, brow furrowing  as Artoo gave a warning trill. “If you do, I’ll get water for you.” 

Mara smiled despite herself. “Thank you,” she said as she carefully took the bowl from him. He gently rubbed her back as she sniffed the broth-- okay, not as bland as I thought --before she took a spoonful for a few cautious sips. “Okay...this is actually pretty good,” she admitted, leaning her head on Luke’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

He nuzzled her hair. “Of course, you’re welcome,” he murmured, as he continued to rub her back.

[mistflyer1102]

sunday six

Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.

------------------------

She knew the two Mandalorians could very easily look in any direction without giving it away through the use of HUDs. She could sense the tension emanating from them in the Force, and could see it from the way both remained in a slightly coiled position with hands near their blasters. She turned back to Fi as he said, "They're both definitely grumpy, but only Sull bites."

Darman nudged her with an elbow. "That, I can tell you about from experience," he muttered, one of his hands flexing unconsciously in his lap. "Oh, and just so you know, Kad is with Besany," he added, turning to Etain.

Etain glanced over to see Kad sitting on the deck floor with Besany, focused on something Besany was showing him that Etain couldn't see.

------------------------

From Chapter 5 of Divergent Path.

[mistflyer1102]

Silver Bells (15/25)

Read on AO3 here.

Summary: In which bad decisions are made.

----------------------

It all started when Q decided to take a shortcut through Hyde Park on their way home.

On a day when they were babysitting.

Q had Willy Fairbanks’s little hand wrapped carefully in his as Bond followed with the Fairbanks twins, Mary and Chelsea, on either side of him. Their father, Will Fairbanks, 002 to his colleagues, had had to duck out to help his elderly parents with something that afternoon, and Q volunteered to watch the three Fairbanks children for the day. Bond had long since tuned Willy out, the boy had been chattering and meandering among topics for over a little over an hour now. Long enough for Bond to perform his usual assessments of the area before resorting to counting which birds he could see. Unlike their younger brother, Mary and Chelsea were walking quietly beside Bond.

“CHELSEA! STOP!”

Or not.

Bond looked down in time to see Willy yanking his hand free of Q’s and darting to the nearest snowbank. Chelsea let out a squeal and broke free of Bond’s grip when she saw Willy bend over to grab a clump of snow and start molding into a lumpy snowball. Mary yelped and tried to run in the opposite direction, but Bond was faster. “No, I don’t want us to split up,” he said as he gently held Mary’s hand tight enough so that she could not break free.

Then Mary ducked behind him to go after her sister, still clutching his hand.

Damn technicality.

Bond let himself be pulled along, pausing long enough to check that Q was all right — break or not, Bond was never off the clock if a high-ranked MI6 employee was nearby unless another agent was keeping an eye on them — before crouching beside Mary as she tried to make an impromptu snowball with one hand. He had to give her props for trying, even if the result was a tiny lump that would most likely miss its target than actually hit anything.

FWOMPF!

Bond froze as cold exploded against the back of his head.

He turned around in time to see Q kneeling beside a shocked Willy, not caring about the little chunks of ice falling between his shirt and coat. “Willy, we do not throw snow at people’s heads!” Q scolded as Bond released Mary’s hand so he could shake the ice chunks out of his jacket.

“But he was in my way! I was trying to get Chelsea!” Willy whined as his gaze darted between Q and Bond.

“If you really need to throw a snowball at someone, aim for the shoulders or below,” Bond said as he pulled his jacket off to shake it out.

“Okay!” both Willy and Mary said at the same time.

Bond looked down in time to see Mary grab a handful of snow. He started to reach for her, but she danced out of his reach. “Willy started it, so I’m ending it!” she announced before she threw it in Willy’s general direction. “Score!” she cheered as the snowball missed its target and hit Q in the stomach instead.

Bond hesitated for the briefest of seconds. Q had banned any type of activity involving snow for the Double-O agents since the first snowfall, as he did every year since the winter of 2013 because he was still mad about having to dig his car out from the one time he parked on the street in front of MI6. Granted, Bond was the only Double-O present, and Alec would never forgive him for pouncing on an opportunity like this without him, but chances like this were rare to the point of not existing…

Q seemed to catch on to what he was thinking, eyes, narrowing even as he stepped away from Willy. “James Andrew Bond, don’t even think about it,” he warned as Willy began to throw handfuls of snow at his sisters.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Bond reached for his own handful of snow, winking as Q puffed up in silent indignation. “Love you too, Alex,” he replied cheerfully before unleashing his first snowball of the afternoon.

He learned quickly that Q fought dirty. The impromptu fight was still worth having a handful of snow shoved down the front of his shirt.

[mistflyer1102]

Summary: Reunions, and more truths.

[mistflyer1102]

moments

Summary: A quick moment before they have to part ways.

-----------------------------------

He almost missed the sound of her light footsteps approaching him.

Darman looked up from the makeshift table where he had spread out the pieces of the disassembled DC-17 to figure out where the rifle was jammed before they arrived to their next destination. It had given out on the last mission due to flying debris, and he was still annoyed from the resulting close call. He straightened though, when he saw Etain Tur-Mukan, her traditional Jedi robes wrapped tightly around herself like blankets, come to a stop in front of where he sat at the worktable. She looked as tired as Darman felt. “There's an empty stool over there,” he said quietly, nodding towards where the nearest stool sat by another workstation. “Couldn't sleep?” he asked as Etain moved to collect the stool and dragged it so she could sit across from him.

She mouthed ‘May I?’ as she gestured to the security camera in the corner. He nodded, and then watched as she used the Force to disable the camera. She then sighed, her shoulders slouching a bit. “Got new orders from Master Zey, I won’t be going with you guys to Thyferra after all. I’ve already messaged Niner,” she said quietly, readjusting her cloak around herself. “I'm scheduled to leave in a standard hour, I didn't think there was a point in trying to go back to sleep,” she said, studying the pieces of the rifle in front of her. She was quiet for a moment, and then said, “I wanted to say goodbye, before I left.”

Darman nodded, frowning at the dark circles under her eyes. “Where are you headed? Or is it classified?” he asked, setting down the pieces he had been holding.

“I actually don't know yet, it’s wherever the 337th is stationed. Master Krell is their commanding officer. Something spooked Master Zey and Captain Maze badly. I’m supposed to be discreet, I’ll receive further information when I get there,” she admitted, brows knitting together in confusion. She looked at Darman. “It was something that they couldn’t commit to comms, I’ll be meeting Captain Maze there. As long as I can remember, he has never left Master Zey’s side. Why now?”

Darman frowned, leaning back in his seat. “I think the only time I haven’t seen Captain Maze by General Zey’s side was the briefing before Qiilura,” he said, already thinking back to Omega Squad’s debrief earlier that evening. Maze hadn’t been visible in the holo, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been nearby on Zey’s end. “Does anyone else know?” he asked, already prepared to bet that one of the Nulls knew.

She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, Master Zey emphasized that no one else knows about this trip, which is another reason that I need to leave soon,” she said, looking down at her hands. She had folded them on her edge of the table, and Darman could see her knuckles were white.

Darman reached across the table and grasped one of her hands in his. “Hey, we’ll see each other when you get back,” he said, grinning. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he added, “Just try to be quick about it though, or we’re going to have all the fun without you.”

She laughed then, quickly lowering her voice a heartbeat later. “You always have plenty of fun without me, probably more so without annoying COs hanging over your shoulder.”

“Well, there’s always Niner.” Darman easily blocked her half-hearted swipe at his shoulder. He leaned forward then, squeezing her hand again gently. “Be careful, then. Even if it’s just busy work,” he said in a softer voice.

She nodded, turning her hand around to clasp his hand and squeeze it gently. He then leaned forward, and she pressed her forehead against his. “You be careful too,” she whispered back before he released her hand. It may have been late in the night cycle, but the armory still saw foot traffic regardless if the cameras were out or not. She gave him one last smile before standing up, and then moving the stool back to its original position. Then she left the armory.

Darman watched her leave, and then went back to work on the DC-17.

Perhaps one day, we won't have to keep saying goodbye like this.

[mistflyer1102]

Silver Bells (9/25)

Read on AO3 here.

Summary: Bond and Q wear Christmas jumpers to work.

--------------

Q had no qualms about going to work in one of his favorite Christmas jumpers.

If Bond did have issues with wearing his own jumper, a gift from Q’s mother from the year before, at MI6, he kept them to himself. The Double-O agent was sitting in a swivel chair near Q’s desk in the Technical Services bullpen, fiddling with small paperweights and loose pens to take his attention off from needling or otherwise distracting Q’s already-frazzled staff (in-house accidents, especially in R&D, had a tendency to increase around this time of year). Q meanwhile was still neck-deep in a pile of debriefing reports and commission requests that he planned to have mostly done by Christmas so he could take the day off and not feel completely guilty about ignoring his inbox.

Actually, now that Q thought about it, Bond was more quiet about it than Q guessed he would, especially since he was known for his more refined tastes in clothes. And he was sitting in a tank of sharks that were likely to use the footage against Bond later. And Bond had to know that, so was he waiting for an opportunity to strike?

Damn.

Q had hoped to get some work done today.

He grabbed his now cold mug of tea and wandered out of his office, resisting the urge to burrow into his jumper. It was made of thick blue wool, and the front of the jumper had an image of the TARDIS decorated in tiny, colorful lights with the door partially open. The bullpen was colder than his office, which meant the heater was broken again--usually the problem was the other way around--and the chances of having to evacuate R&D for the fifth time in a month had increased by ten percent. Since there were no alarms.

“Do you want me to heat that for you?”

Q looked down at Bond, who was handing a pen back to Marcela. “Oh, thank you,” he said, letting the agent take his mug. “Looking to show off Artoo-Detoo?” he asked, smirking slightly as Bond placed a protective hand over the droid knitted on the front of his jumper.

“If I wanted to show off Artoo-Detoo, I would be hanging out with the field agents in the upstairs lounge, not down here in the bullpen and getting grilled on every little crumb of Star Wars trivia,” Bond shot back, arching a brow towards the back of the room. Q followed his line of sight in time to catch a few sheepish techs disappearing behind their computers. “Or I would be outside, parading around as a bright red target for any sniper who decided to take their chances this close to my home,” he added as he looked back down at Q.

“It’s not that bright of a red,” Q said, scanning over the red and white jumper that had Artoo-Detoo wearing a knit cap, the tail of which ended in a white pompom. “Okay, maybe it is that bright…”

“I’m still surprised that you even showed up here in that jumper,” Marcela cut in, glancing between the two of them. “I mean, since when does the great Double-oh Seven wear a Christmas jumper?”

“When he gets dragged out of bed before the sun is even up and is in such a rush out the door that he grabs a garment out of the hall closet that doesn’t belong to him. Of course, I forgot that this was the one that got doused in the washing machine by accident and was left to hang to dry,” Bond said before Q could answer, the lie slipping past Marcela with ease. He glanced at Q and said, “Mallory’s already seen it. I told him that if he didn’t like it, then maybe he shouldn’t have called you in so early.”

Q didn’t dare look at Marcela to see if she bought the lie. Q was the only other inhabitant in the flat, and he wore a smaller size than Bond. And they were both smart about taking proper care of clothes. Bond didn’t have to tell Q the real reason he had grabbed the jumper. They both knew that the jumper was warm and Bond loved it.

And that was the important thing.

[mistflyer1102]

sunday six

Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.

------------------------

Etain then gingerly slid off the seat as Darman got off as well, and then she stepped back as Darman moved the speeder away from where she could sense Ordo waiting for them up ahead. As she stopped to catch her breath, she looked back at the city she once called home.

The orange glow from the Temple was almost gone. At some point, the traffic lanes had been cleared, giving her an unobstructed view of the skyline. She knew her path lay before her now; Coruscant had ceased to be home once the war began, and she had her son and husband to go home with. She still felt a buried grief though, for friends lost as she recalled their faces.

------------------------

From Divergent Path, Chapter 4.