Tentapussy

[Sheldon Esalis]

Glee Anselm

"Mother?"

"Mother?"

"Did you get that message?"

"Come in, Mother?"

Shit, no answer. This was important, too. Alright, back to the interactive language lesson. A holographic Nautolan appeared as I fixed myself a White Kudrau. That I was even resorting to mixing my own cocktail was a sure sign of strange things afoot.

"Do you have room service?

Estera cordunao, mor fien?"

"Estera cordunao, mor fien?"

Perfect inflection. Perfect cocktail. I was pretty perfect. I was going to have to be. On the trail of a Rebel scientist and a hidden weapons laboratory, we were in deep cover, infiltrating the enemy's facilities, cleverly hidden on this goddamn gorgeous tropical paradise holy shit can you believe my luck at picking such a great assignment!

[Una Rakesh]

It was a cosmic joke that was being played. A cruel, mean-spirited cosmic joke. She would've much preferred that she was staying in a completely different resort, but the nature of their mission, and the fact that they were here under the cover of a husband and wife on vacation meant they had to stay together. Which of course meant that they had to share a room.

The night before Una had slept on the small sofa.

Now, as she stepped from the 'fresher, hair damp and feet bare, the redhead did her best to ignore Sheldon Esalis. She didn't care if he was brushing up on his Nautolan. She didn't care if he was having a drink. She probably wouldn't care if she never saw him again.

"Did you get the name of the contact we're supposed to meet today?"

Una also didn't care if she was interrupting his little lesson.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Did you?" I retorted. Wait, hang on.

"Cues tu, jufe?"
(Did you, wife?)

I pointed at her accusingly with my drink in the same hand, then laughed it off, and sipped.

"But in all seriousness, no I didn't. At all."

[Una Rakesh]

She stared at him as though he'd just turned into a Hutt.

"You didn't?! Sheldon that's the only thing you were supposed to do; I handled all of the coordinating that was assigned to me - all you had to do was get a name!"

She fumed, the dark cloud over her steadily growing darker.

"And don't call me wife unless you absolutely have to."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Totally use that anger. Method acting. Makes your cover story more believable, Una. Because you should totally be pissed at me if you find out that I'm banging two models while you're working on your tan which is my roundabout way of saying that you should work on your tan."

I paused, taking a sip.

"You will be pleased to know that I did get those names though. The models, I mean. That I will bang."

[Una Rakesh]

There was a moment that all she could do was stare at him. How?! How could this man in any way be related to the Director? And in that moment Una felt sorry for the other woman.

"You'll do no such thing," she finally got out, turning on her heel to return the damp towel to the 'fresher.

"Try to refrain from telling me how to do my job as well." She came back into the room. "Do you think you can do that?"

Una gave a parting glare to Sheldon before reaching out and pulling her small suitcase across the bed, unclasping the latches and throwing it open all in one motion.

"It's a wonder your mother doesn't throw you out."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Oh, you mean Director Esalis? Because dictatorial harpy though she might be, she knows honest goddamn talent when she sees it."

"Ustue mara chelli bibliada, sur we?"
(Can you give me directions to the library?)

"Besides, ass, we're here to stop an evil weapon scientist. Not exactly the most tradecraft-heavy mission. We look for the palest nerd we can find that isn't you, and we put two in him. Then we relax, toast the sunset, and watch the tightest olive-skinned asses shake so hard it rocks this pontoon boat village. Which, by the way, pontoon boat village, Una. We're on a boat!"

[Una Rakesh]

Una gave him an exasperated look from over the top of her opened luggage. Her eyes narrowed as she ignored the name-calling. Instead, she chose the moment to lift a finger up and point it at him.

"Stop an Alliance scientist, yes. Sleep with any loose whore or whores you can lay your disgusting hands on? Not so much."

She went back to the clothes neatly packed and folded within the confines of her leather suitcase, and rummaging about, pulled a rather sparse outfit out. It was certainly not anything that she would normally be seen wearing, but circumstances being what they were, disguises were dictated by the mission.

[Sheldon Esalis]

I held my hands up in exasperation.

"Now I'm the bad guy, right? Look, I gave it my best shot with the whole married act, Loveseat. So we come to vacation to Glee Anselm to, what, read books by the pool?"

Drink in hand, I gestured to my god-like body.

"What part of 'not convincing cover story' do you not understand? You expect them to believe you're not into this?"

"Jascuera mur lala na bancha, Una."

[Una Rakesh]

"Jascuera mur al tu na bancha," she corrected, her voice a low-ish grumble as she continued to appraise her chosen clothing.

"Nautolan is not a difficult language to learn, you know. The least you could do is get your possessive adjectives correct."

Pausing, she turned a look to him, giving him an appraising look.

"You're giving yourself too much credit," she finally bit out.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"The difference between you and a protocol droid right now is that the droid would be much more into an oil bath."

I paused, giving her the benefit of the doubt that she might actually, yes, be into the concept of an oil bath.

"So which of the six millions forms of vibrator do I need to speak to tell you that you're full of shit?"

Again, I flexed.

"Let's pretend it's the academy and we're in a co-ed dorm."

[Una Rakesh]

With an exasperated grunt, Una turned on her heel and retreated once more to the 'fresher. It was a welcome relief.

Three minutes later and she was back out, having changed into her chosen attire; it was certainly different than what she was used to, but in her line of work the redhead had become used to donning clothing that she'd otherwise never wear. The brightly colored wrap that she had wound around her body would allow her to blend in with the locals, though her skin tone glaringly set her apart.

A frown, and Una wondered if at least a small amount of time spent in the sun could be found during their stay.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Wowwwwww...you almost look like you're glad to be here."

Sarcasm was wasted on her, but I was fond of it.

"Don't forget the sunblock, Miss Hoth Congeniality. Coming to the pool?"

Walking to the dresser, I unlatched my attaché case, peering within at a cornucopia of violence. Dart launchers, pocket blasters, vibrodaggers, and other such small implements of killing.

"My only regret is that there's no way to really conceal any of this in a banana hammock."

Mournfully settling on trunks, I held them up for inspection. Black, of course. Also tailored. Yes that's probably unconventional for swim trunks, but I'd sooner take a harpoon in the chest than wade into water with a bubble tent.

[Una Rakesh]

Una resisted the urge to shudder, doggedly reminding herself that despite his behavior and attitude, Sheldon Esalis was a very good agent. It was maddening in its' own way, that she could simply not drop him. Of course, it wasn't just his talents that helped him in his chosen career - it went a long way when one's mother was the Director.

"Just dress yourself. Since you neglected to get the necessary information that you were supposed to get, we have to do that now."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"So, what, I do a dog & kaadu dance where I ask the barkeep for a lighter, and he says he only uses matches, and then I say because they don't run out of fluid, that kind of thing?"

She was serious. She actually wanted me to do all of this gumshoe tradecraft shit. With a sigh, I took my pre-ordained hotel coaster and spilled my perfect drink over it, allowing the secret contact and the code phrase to appear.

"A Janitor. Really. Sure, that's natural."

So I was supposed to find the one custodian on this floating village that spoke basic (do custodians speak basic) and then...

"Does your disinfectant come in lemon scent?"

With disdain, I tossed the coaster on the bed.

"Why don't I just ask him about his magical vomit sawdust. Una. How. How is this better than my idea?"

[Una Rakesh]

Una rolled her eyes.

"Of course I don't expect you to do some song and dance that people would watch in holos."

She turned around, heading for the door.

[Sheldon Esalis]

So while literally everybody else in the resort was catching a tan, swimming, hitting the bar, gambling, or up to their eyeballs in green thongs, we went looking for a janitor. That meant going down hallways. Here, there, everywhere. And while my 2,000 thread count cabana top kept me cool and relaxed, that was about the only thing helping things at the moment.

"This is stupid. We've been around here five times and there hasn't been a single janitor to be seen. They probably have little mouse droids with scoops or something sweeping trash."

And then somewhere, it all clicked. I tugged Una along.

"Let's go to the bar."

[Una Rakesh]

"Now wait a moment-"

Any protest she had was cut short by Sheldon's insistence, and the redhead grumpily allowed herself to be dragged in his wake. She gave a few exasperated smiles to those they passed by, and her pace quickened so that she didn't seem so unwilling. After all, they did still have to maintain some form of cover as husband and wife (no matter how infuriating).

"I don't think the bar is the best place to look," Una got out from between set teeth, making sure to keep her genial smile as she shifted Sheldon's hold on her arm to something of a more mutual nature. As much as it pained her, she looped her arm through his and kept steady with him.

"We're probably missing a... broom closet or something."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"No way, no broom closets. Too many objects with long handles in the dark. Waiting for you to slip the wrong way and, I heard from a friend, and..."

We're...not talking about the same thing. Oh.

"...oh. You mean literally search a broom closet. For a moment, I thought you finally..."

Frown.

"I'm not searching broom closets. Finding anything good in them only actually happens in porn."

[Una Rakesh]

He was adamant about not truly finishing the search, but Una was also not really in the mood to press the issue. It was getting tedious, after all, and even her own patience reserves were running out. Of course, that fact was largely because of Sheldon himself, but at the moment that fact was neither here nor there.

And, quite frankly, going to the bar sounded agreeable now.

"Cleaning supplies are good," was her only feeble response.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"You know what's really good at cleaning things? Alcohol!"

Well, also really really good at causing messes too. That was what I was planning on.

Finally! Sunshine again! We stepped to the poolside cabana, and sidled up to the bar. I turned to my flame-headed dead weight anchor and spoke low.

"Order some shameful girl drink, I don't care. We're expensing it anyway. Lot of fruit though. Lot of it."

Me? Well, I couldn't be seen with a big set-piece on my hands. You just didn't do that.

"Gascon, a Mandalorian 75, over rocks, no shaved ice, and real sugar, no nectar or syrup or whatever."

The barkeep gave me a bit of a glower.

"You mean a Nebula Fizz?"

No. No. No. No. This wasn't good. What was this, baby's first bartending kit?

"Did I ask for only one shot and garnish of vagina? No. I didn't. Three shots. Mandalorian 75. Old style. I don't know how that other tarted-up alcoslurpee got the name, but that's bullshit."

[Una Rakesh]

The 'tender gave Sheldon a withering glare before finally nodding and looking to her.

Una gave a noncommittal wave of her hand.

"Frozen Hoth with namana."

Another nod - this time more amenable to a drink that the bartender knew, and he turned away to begin making their orders.

Leaning an elbow on the bartop, Una gave a sideways look to her partner.

"Can you be any more abrasive?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Abrasive? This isn't abrasive. You want to talk abrasive, how about your legs, middle of the work week, bloused regulation slacks."

I sipped my drink. Perfect. Despite the hand-holding, the barkeep eventually nailed a good Mando 75.

"Drink your frozen fruit monster."

[Una Rakesh]

Rather than oblige him, Una simply rested her hand around the drink that'd been handed to her as she smiled a taught smile.

"Exercise a small bit of professionalism, please."

And then she did take a sip. It wasn't bad.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Hello, tradecraft? Blending. The only one of us who isn't having a good time right now is you, razorburns."

I knocked the drink out of her hands and watched it fall to the ground, where it made a colossal mess.

"Uh oh butterfingers."

[Una Rakesh]

With a sudden mortified look, Una stared at Sheldon as if he'd just peeled off the skin of his face to reveal a Rodian in disguise.

"Now what in the seven hells did you do that for," she hissed angrily, shoulders squaring back as she resisted the urge to slap him.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Condensation, ha ha, how you make fools of us all. Guess yoouuu...need another drink, fumblerooski."

I stepped around the mess, and made eye contact with the bartender.

"Hey, remember that huge ridiculous alcoholic fruit salad she just ordered? Yeah, gonna need another."

[Una Rakesh]

With an acidic look to him, Una once more turned to the bartender, giving him an apologetic nod. He shrugged and went about preparing another drink. For a brief moment the redhead entertained the notion of knocking Sheldon's own drink from his hands, but the thought was soon squashed. There was no point in lowering herself to his level.

The 'tender slid another Frozen Hoth toward her, and she accepted it with a quiet word of thanks.

"Are you going to let me finish this one this time," she mumbled while taking a sip.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"I dunno, do we have 12 hours to wait?"

I gestured incredulously to the small aquarium she was drinking out of.

"What do they do, just blend an Ithorian herdship into a trough and top that off with mid-tier vodka? You're paying for a crazy straw and an umbrella."

I caught a bit of motion in my peripheral (A spy trains hours on end to sharpen their peripheral vision. Or something. I didn't take that training. It's like at 8 in the morning or some kind of hour that only accountants are up for) and noticed a trout-shouldered prole in a blue shirt pulling a cart along.

"See, ass, I had a plan all along!"

[Una Rakesh]

"Oh, now that's just so mature."

Her grumbled retort was spoken as she shifted on her feet, and feigning a misstep, Una shouldered into her partner with just enough force to knock his own drink from his hands.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Really?!"

One drink was plausible. Two was just hamming it up. It was also kind of a dick move, since I pretty much require a steady flow of alcohol to more or less make magic happen. With an exasperated sigh, I glanced to the barkeep, who was already mixing another.

"Sorry my idea couldn't be stupid and boring, Broom Closet. Just drink your diabetes daiquiri and let me handle this, alright?"

I approached the custodian, and sighed. Ugh.

"Look, uh, yeah. I know the line I'm supposed to say. But it's stupid. And I don't want to. So..."

The custodian's face turned grim, and he began to reach into his little cart, probably for a blaster with which to kill us both.

"...fine! I just want to, you know, be on record. Do I look like I care about disinfectant scent? I mean, maybe I do. But lemon? What, am I putting on the ritz at a Jawa Junk party?"

Still grim faced. Fine. Fine.

"Ahem. Does your disinfectant come in lemon scent?"

The custodian paused, looking to Una, and reached to the top of his cart.

"No sah, no lemon, so sorry. But I do have that scent in moist towelettes. Please help yourself."

I snatched the packets from the custodian just in time to retrieve my fresh drink.

[Una Rakesh]

By the time he'd finished playing wordgames with the Janitor, Una had finished half of her drink - which considering that the glass itself was certainly not small - was an accomplishment in and of itself.

And when Sheldon returned to his 'casual perch' beside her, the redhead had only a smirk to greet him.

"I bet you feel like an idiot right about now... " She sipped from her drink.

"... ass."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Well, yeah. Obviously!"

Irritated, I tore open one of the moist towelette packs. Predictably, a note was tucked inside.

"Because I totally came to Glee Anselm to talk to the help. It's like the lead-in to a porn holo, except that janitor is less tits and ass and more moustache and faintly-oniony body odor."

I glanced at the note, and passed it off to Una as we left the scene of the crime.

"And another thing, how does someone whose job it is to clean shit up end up smelling like that?"

[Una Rakesh]

Drink in one hand and note palmed in the other, Una gave a shrug as she let Sheldon lead the way from the bar.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Another sip, and she gave a seemingly carefree smile to a passing group of Nautolans.

"And besides, my darling husband, we're here for pleasure, remember?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

Oh yeah, pleasure. I checked out the backside of one of the alien babes as I passed.

"Well, the sooner we 86 this evil nerd terrorist, the sooner that we get carted off to the next assignment, which I guarantee you will be a lot less badass than this one. So lets try not to rush past all the foreplay, both figuratively and literally, honey-bun."

Giving a gesture to the paper I passed to her, I headed to the nearby pool.

"That's our way in, anyway. Invitations to a private room, high-stakes Cubet game. The guy hosting it is either the guy we're after, or he's connected close to him. We go in, have a good time, and figure out where to go from there."

Sipping my new drink, I turned the glass about slightly in my hand.

[Una Rakesh]

And in that moment, Una had a flash of worry. She blinked, and sent a look up to Sheldon as they walked. The small slip of paper was crumpled up, but not deposited outright. A quick motion, a feint in adjusting her top, and the small 'ball' was deposited in her top, nestling itself right between the two 'girls'.

"You do know how to play Cubet, right?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Do you not?"

I'd done my research. And by research, I meant watching old holos of classy gangsters on a Naboo parlor enclave island. The kind with people smoking stims out of those long stim holders. Some time before the Clone Wars when people really knew how to dress.

But yeah, Cubet.

"It's like sabacc...except they all speak Twi'leki and move the cards with that little, uh, paddle."

[Una Rakesh]

A groan.

"You only watched old holo's, didn't you."

With that revelation, Una ignored the straw in her drink and simply upended the entire concoction in a single gulp, her throat working in overtime to pass the fruity drink down her gullet and into her stomach. A few moments later, and it was empty.

Coming up for air finally, her eyes clenched shut, teeth baring in the immediate aftermath of her impromptu chug.

"The Malastare Falcon? Ord Largo? Jedi With Dirty Faces?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Well, it's not something they simulcast on SportZone3, Una, so...gotta learn somewhere."

I took a bit of a halting step, pivoting to the side. Something was bugging the hell out of me

"Gambling is literally the one vice that I don't just absolutely smother myself in, and now I'm an asshole??!"

I made a dismissive face.

"Besides, it's all mother's petty credit fund. Lose a little here, lose a little there. She'd burn it all on dermtox treatments anyways."

[Una Rakesh]

Even she couldn't help but give a small snort in laughter.

"I doubt that."

Sheldon Esalis was - at his core - a decent enough agent. Una had no way of knowing what the Director was like in a family environment, but she did suspect that there were nuggets of truth to the exaggerated tales that Sheldon had talked her ear off with. There was even one time she'd fallen asleep during one of his stories. It was something to do with fieldball and a championship, but beyond that there was no memory. Well, there was, but it was a jumbled patchwork of talking ice cream, outrunning a stampede of rainbow-colored banthas, and having a comm unit melt in her hand.

"Your mother doesn't seem like one to do any of that."

A thoughtful moment as the redhead turned her eyes to him.

"Though, if I had a kid like you, I just might."

[Sheldon Esalis]

It was largely my fault that the topic of conversation had turned to mother, and whatever raft of ghastly procedures she may or may not pursue to wrap a bedsheet's worth of saggy skin tight against her hag skeleton like a shrinky dink. Nevertheless, I'd given Una a path to a dark place, and she'd gone there.

It merited no response. I simply stared at her like she was gangrenous. One second. Two. Five.

Only then was it safe to change the subject.

"Okay, so we're flying by the seat of our pants in a high stakes card game and playing with someone else's money. I need an edge. Something to help us know when to hold 'em, and know when to fold 'em."

I glanced slightly off in the distance, a ponderous expression on my face.

"I think I know exactly what that is."

[Una Rakesh]

He had that far off look again, and it always put her on edge. She wasn't a fearful person by nature, but she sure as hell was cautious. Sheldon Esalis was the kind of person that brought those cautions into the light more often than not, and Una felt her brow knit. Her arms crossed over her chest, mindful of the now-empty glass she still held in one hand.

"Sheldon," her voice was low and steady.

"What are you going to do."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Hold this."

I pushed my cocktail into her other hand, and made a step to move with purpose. I paused, thought better of it, and looked back to Una.

"No, wait."

Taking back my Mando'a 75, I promptly downed the drink in one quick go...

"Ugh, (burp). Okay, now hold this."

...returning the glass to my partner, I disappeared around the corner without another word.

[Una Rakesh]

She didn't exactly know where he was going with whatever barely-lucid train of thought that'd lodged itself in his already erratic and questionable mind, but there was a very good chance that it was a terrifying gateway to a frustrating future. And that was what made her follow him without any real thought but to try and curtail... something.

"Hold on, now!"

With both of their glasses, Una rounded the corner he'd disappeared past, catching up to him in almost record time.

"What... are you going to do? Please don't tell me you're gonna pretend to be a Jedi or something."

[Rod Mustafar]

I didn't have a lot of time out of sight, but it turned out to be just enough. She caught up to me with my back turned.

"In robes like that, ugh? Una. It's only one size fits all when you wear a robe the size of a tent."

I turned to face her, coiffing my hair to offset any wind displacement done by running.

"Besides, have you ever seen a card shark Jedi before?"

[Una Rakesh]

Oh gods.

She stared up at him, blinking in disbelief at the mustache.

"You have got to be kidding me," was all she could think to say.

[Rod Mustafar]

The only bad thing about a prosthetic mustache was that it was terrible on the definition of a good smirk. Only told half the story. Of course, where I was going, that couldn't be *all* bad.

"I know, right? I mean who'd even try to bluff?"

Wait, were we talking about the same thing? My eyes narrowed.

"You're talking about a Jedi gambling, right? Or are we still talking about how non-bespoke robes do absolutely nothing for anyone. Now, a Jedi smoking jacket maybe?"

[Una Rakesh]

She rolled her eyes at that. At this point, Una was fairly certain that for as many times as she'd rolled her eyes at Sheldon, they'd be clear across into the Unknown Regions by now.

"Forget it," she intoned, shoving his empty glass into his hands.

"So you have a fake mustache. I'm proud of you."

Depositing her own empty glass on a room service cart, the redhead crossed her arms over her chest.

"I suppose you've got a name for yourself, don't you."

[Rod Mustafar]

"Do you even tradecraft, bro? Una. Really. It's not just a mustache or a name, it's a lifestyle. I have to know everything about my alias, and recall it under duress, torture, a torrent of intoxicants, or all of the above. Where they grew up - New Cov, what they do for work - mergers and acquisitions, what position they played in varsity smashball - wing end, what their favorite position is - the randy hammer...so YES, I have a name. And that name is Rod Mustafar."

I glowered at my partner with exasperation. Sometimes I wondered why I poured so much of myself into my work. With a field agent who questioned my mustache, and yet wore those sandals.

[Una Rakesh]

Rod Mustafar.

She let that sink in for a moment. But only a moment.

Finally she reacted. Eyes closed, head slightly turned. Both hands went up into the air in that universal signal for surrender even as her shoulders sagged in apparent defeat.

"You know what? Fine. I'm proud of you. Good job. I wish you the best of luck bluffing your way through cubet with nothing but the randy hammer to back you up."

Green eyes opened then, and she let out a sigh before starting forward, shoving past him with brusque intent.

[Rod Mustafar]

"I don't think it's that kind of card game, Una."

Frowning, I suddenly got pulled along that mental tangent. In a high stakes game of cubet, and everyone's clothes suddenly fall off - instantly. And I see everything. Hmm...

"But at least you're starting to think like a field agent. I mean, what if there are female bodyguards. Trained to subdue a target with their thighs..."

Hmm...

I stroked my mustache.

Goddamn a mustache is a great thinking prop.

"Anyway, I guess we should go back to the room and put on something formal. Did you pack a black dress that doesn't look like it belongs to a librarian or the kind you wear at a wake?"

[Una Rakesh]

Was there even a point in answering him? It would only feed the monster that was Sheldon Esalis, to be honest, and the less she encouraged him with anything resembling a back and forth conversation, Una felt she would be better for it.

And so she kept her mouth clamped shut, refusing to even think about answering him. It was a futile effort to try and get anything worthwhile out of him, and after long enough, a person just kind of stopped making the attempts. There was only so much she could take.

In that moment she resolved to find a way to have herself assigned a new partner. There was an agent she'd seen every so often, caught glimpses of him in passing. He was tall (though, Sheldon was also, but still), had a good record, and was - most importantly - on the quiet side.

[Rod Mustafar]

"I'm going to take your silence as an attempt to avoid incrimination." I said with a degree of resignation.

"It doesn't have to be couture, just don't look cheap or touristy. And since it's indoors, you can show off your overly white legs and arms without needing an SPF-one million lotion."


I had something else for this, but maybe it was lost in mustache translation. Come on, Sheldon. What Would Rod Do?

"I'm, actually, sorry about that last part. Skin cancer's not a joke."