A Lesson in Secrets

[Lúka Jibral]

Just like that it was gone. Broken. Shattered. Just like us.

Lúka sat in stunned silence as Anastasia - or was it back to Doctor Xivelle now? - extracted herself from him, and fled. "Wait," escaped from him again, uttered differently this time, a faint hint of apology, a slight hint of pleading. It stung as he realised how that word must have seemed, must have felt; that wasn't his intention. This wasn't. This was the opposite, in fact. Wait, are you sure about this? That had been how the sentiment was supposed to continue. Wait, what is this? What do you want here? What do you need?

He was on his feet and in pursuit of her, out into the Maelibus corridor. He'd made a mistake, an error, one that he badly needed to be repaired. Why had he even questioned? Why had he interrupted the moment? Those questions could have come later. After. If this was to be something complicated, they could consider it when there was actually something to consider. If this was to be nothing, physical, medicinal, then it wouldn't have been the first time Lúka had provided such a service. That was his function. That was his drive. Understand how people function, and provide them with what they need.

His longer strides closed the Doctor's head start in moments, intercepting her before she reached the ladder that would lead her down and out of the ship. What happens on the Maelibus stays on the Maelibus. Old words in a familiar voice, echoing in the back of his mind. He could have reached out for her, grabbed an arm, grappled her with the Force; but she wasn't some fugitive he was pursuing, she was a person, a friend almost, and Lúka could feel the wound that he had inflicted, radiating back at him like heat.

Carefully, he positioned herself in her path: not enough to block her escape, but enough to draw her attention.

"Ana, wait."

This time, the words came at their softest yet, and through his eyes he tried to convey everything that he had intended. An eternity passed between them, or perhaps just a second. He ventured an iota closer. "I said wait," he uttered, not an instruction this time, but an explanation, and apology all in once. There was a flicker that almost wanted to be a smile on his lips. Powered by instinct, a hand reached out, gently brushing against her cheek. Another half-step closer and his other hand ensnared hers, gently but firmly, a subtle indication that he didn't want her to flee. "I didn't say no."

His head lowered, descending through the few inches that separated their stature. Reluctant to let go of hers, his hand crept behind hers, arm wrapping around her waist as he moved completely into her personal space. Unlike her attempt, her invitation, there was no hesitation this time, and no going back. His thumb brushed gently at her jawline, guiding her chin to tilt upwards before his fingers slid backwards, threading into the hair at the nape of her neck. In the last instants, he flashed her a flicker of a smile, before his eyes closed, and his lips pressed, longingly, against hers.

[Anastasia Xivelle]

A blissful emptying of her mind of the racing thoughts followed that immediate instant his lips met hers; and while the tension and conflict that had been created within her didn't entirely melt, it certainly wavered, yielded to this. Whatever this was. A moment could have been taken to ponder that thought, as a slight gasp escaped from her in the brief moment they separated. Instead Ana found herself not wanting to think. Not now anyway. Instead her hands both raised, a gentle brush against either side of Lúka's jawline before she returned the kiss, not gently or cautiously, but rather in a way that expressed every need she had for the contact, for the shared moment of intimacy with another individual.

One of her hands slid forward, just a bit, enough to be placed behind his neck as the long drawn out kiss was urgently intensified and then finally let go of, it's absence filled with several delicate yet no less desperate touches of her lips to his that left her entirely breathless.

She wanted to speak, to explain, to perhaps even apologize once more, but the words simply wouldn't come. Instead as her eyes opened and met with his again she felt herself shrug off the efforts of whatever mental wards one such as her could place. If this was to be something, anything, then she refused to let herself strain to keep anything at bay. It didn't matter if she needed him, or wanted him, or some combination or neither at all; if he wanted to tell her to stop, she would more than acquiesce, but for now? For now her eyes closed as she pulled herself to him again as their lips were once more locked.

[Lúka Jibral]

Lúka felt it, the thoughts rising and then breaking like bubbles on the surface of her mind. He felt them washed away, disappearing down a stream that wanted to continue flowing. That was a desire that Lúka was more than willing to oblige. Perhaps it was cheating, an unfair advantage he had over other men, to feel some sense of Anastasia's desires without her needing to utter them; but for that injustice he had no care or apology, just the desire to continue until Ana felt the need to stop.

He wasn't sure when they had moved, or even why. He felt it as the bulkhead of the Maelibus made contact with his arm, just in time to provide a buffer for Ana as he pressed her against it. One kiss became several, each one aborted by the urgent desire for the next to start. While the hand at her neck shifted to cradle her cheek, the hand at her waist explored, feeling the supple curves of her hip that teased and taunted him from beneath the fabric of her dress.

A stray thought pressed his lips into retreat, escaping from hers to flee instead along her jawline, leaving an eager trail of kisses down the taut length of her neck. His lips found their way to her shoulder, yet another frontier of exploration denied by her dress, pressing his lips back into a reversed course. Words were snatched between kisses, as his lips advanced their way upwards.

"Just think it, and I'll stop."

[Anastasia Xivelle]

"No," It wasn't a plea, but hardly just a request, either.

If she stopped to really consider the potential results from this, she may have asked him to. There would no doubt be complications of some sort, but as far as even remotely trying to process what they would be, Ana wasn't even making an attempt. A few quickened breaths were stolen and with each one she felt herself drawing ever closer to him, pressing as much towards him as he apparently seemed intent on pinning her between himself and the bulkhead.

The sudden pause was more than enough to allow for her hands to leave where they had cradled his head and instead worked towards the lower hem of his shirt and with one swift motion that she was quite glad to find that he didn't protest against, the piece of clothing was removed and dropped to the floor. Their lips met again as one of her hands splayed across his chest, the other returning to it's former place against his cheek.

"Just, please," the words felt too heavy when they finally managed to escape and as another kiss disrupted them she recalled what he's said - Think it.

Don't stop.

[Lúka Jibral]

Lúka didn't stop, and the mental urging came both as a relief, and a licence for more. His kisses didn't stop, almost a hunger and desperation creeping into them. His hands didn't stop, sliding down her body until they found the lower edge of her dress. They crept beneath, tentatively at first as his fingertips brushed across the band of lace that hid beneath, and then more eagerly as they passed beyond onto the skin of her thigh. What might have been awkward, lopsided even, saught assistance from the Force as the dress was slid upwards, both his hands and the Force straying downwards to hitch her legs upwards, and wrap them around his waist.

A grin crossed his lips as he pressed the two of them more firmly against the wall, a hand rising up to snare both of Ana's arms, and pin them to the wall as well above her head.

"Just please?" he echoed, a teasing tone weaving playfully through his voice. His lips broke free again, a reckless and eager trail across her cheek so that his voice, barely more than a whisper, could be uttered directly into her ear.

"That's exactly what I had in mind."

[Anastasia Xivelle]

It had been far too long since she had felt wanted. On any level, really, but this went far beyond a desire for her pretense or her aptitude. She wouldn't deny having the occasional consideration, not quite daydream, of something similar to this. Long hours working alone with Lúka back in the Black Archives almost insisted that this sort of thing should have happened before this. But for whatever reason, they'd both denied themselves in favor of professionalism. But here in this secretive place, while maybe not entirely private, it felt the edgings of a new beginning; and just as she had said, a chance to prove themselves. Not as far as capability, but merely in the ability to be human.

Whatever the reasons, she couldn't help but find a playful smile tug at the edges of her lips each time they weren't occupied by his and even more so as the whisper brought just the slightest shiver along her spine.

"You said this was your home once," Ana spoke, careful to not edge into any unpleasant memories, merely speaking a truism and throwing full caution to the wind. When she spoke again, it wasn't merely a tease, but rather a full offer and the extent of the meaning was formed fully within thoughts she wishes she could project as clearly as possible. "We should move this to your bunk."

[Lúka Jibral]

* * *

Silence. Not an empty silence, but a full one. Contented, but also reluctant. Not complete, either: from the moment they had emerged from the Maelibus, their air of professionalism had descended once more, two co-conspirators exploring the final vestiges of the secret laboratory they had been directed towards. They had discussed plans, and potential, talking as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. But if the Maelibus ramp had been their threshold, it had been a difficult one to cross. Kisses had chased them all the way to the cargo bay, and more than once they'd almost turned back, undone the already reluctant and almost aborted process of pulling back on their clothes. When the final kiss had come, it had felt like a goodbye, tragic and grateful in equal measure; and then she had taken those few backwards steps down the ramp, set foot on laboratory ground instead of the diplomatic immunity of Lúka's former home, and that had been that.

Part of him wondered why that was. It hadn't been spoken: there had been no conversation about it, and yet both had instinctively understood that their moment - moments, enough to add up to a considerable fraction of their evening, in fact - needed to be set aside as soon as they passed beyond the ship's hull. Perhaps it was an unspoken understanding that Khalid might be watching, monitoring their activities within this space. It certainly seemed like his style, luring them into a concealed location where a false sense of security would make them comfortable, and allow him to more easily observe whatever tasks he set for them. Granted, the same monitoring could have been in place aboard the Maelibus, but that ship had sailed; if Khalid had seen, he had seen, but if he hadn't, there was no point being cavalier about it.

Perhaps there was more to it. Perhaps the threshold of the Maelibus was psychological as much as anything else, a literal compartment within which to compartmentalise whatever had just transpired - mistake, distraction, respite, beginning, or whatever else it transpired to be. That was the problem, the struggle that Lúka wrestled with silently. He was having enough trouble understanding what it had been to him; what it had been to her was a deeper mystery, and yet the unspoken agreement to remain silent prevented him from the easiest line of enquiry.

The laboratory and the motel complex that concealed it were long behind them however, and amid the roar and wind of a speeder soaring through the Coruscant night, any concerns of being overheard had faded. Now, the only concern was in the receipt of answers he did not like.

"So." He winced a little at how sudden, how abrupt, his voice sounded. "We should probably talk."

[Anastasia Xivelle]

As much as her being Ana had ended and Doctor Xivelle had stepped fully forward again the moment they had left the Maelibus, she couldn't deny that something had changed. Maybe it was in the fact she felt calm, far more at ease than she had since... Well, as far back as she could remember, honestly. It was silly to think that it was just the results of their physical activities, though that sort of thing was known fully well to have such effects. It wasn't just sex, though, it'd been something far more beneficial. But just how far that was, she couldn't exactly decide. There had been no sense of regret that came over her as they resumed their normal roles, no lingering embarrassment, but there was still something there.

She had hoped the open night air would billow the last remaining uncertain sentiments away, and in a way they had. Her eyes had closed and leaned back against the headrest in nothing even remotely contemplative so much as peaceful. It was nice, if she was truly honest.

Lord Jibal's voice didn't shatter that sense either, so much as drag her back from whatever meditative trance she had been nearly slipping to. Her eyes opened slowly and her head turned to regard him, knowing he couldn't very well do the same when he was driving - even if more for appearances than actuality, The Force would probably grant him more than enough skill to manage both speaking to her and keeping them from crashing.

"Yes, I suppose we should." It was mere agreement, although not without a certain amount of dread. Trying to decipher exactly what she was feeling or slowly withdrawing from feeling wasn't something she wanted to exactly tackle as it was still a curiosity. However, there were always benefits of comparing... though part of her was unsure of exactly how she wanted the Knight to view their little tryst.

[Lúka Jibral]

Where to start? What to say? All of the concerns that Lúka had felt before came crashing back, except they had morphed and changed. His concerns became about what she thought, what she felt, what she would want, and how she would see things. For Lúka, it was formless. Malleable. He would adapt to suit the circumstances, as he always did; but unlike normal, those circumstances were clouded, hard for him to understand and discern.

The weight of everything came crashing down around him, like flood waters breaching a dam. First it was a slow trickle, and then a cascade. Her ex-fiancé. Her career. Her normal life. Everything washed away, in a tide that had swept her along with it. He'd been alongside her for some of it - more than she realised, in fact, thanks to the Inquisition's desire that she be monitored, and their estimation that Lúka was useful for little else - and he knew enough to guess that perhaps this was a first, a needed milestone to demonstrate that she still could. Though he had never truly felt it - not in a romantic sense, at least - he understood the premise of heartbreak, the feelings it provoked, and the kind of scars it might leave in a person. After relationships such as the one Ana had lost, it was not unusual to seek someone, some sympathetic source of physical comfort, to reassure and rekindle what might have felt like it had been extinguished.

It was the easiest explanation, and one that allowed other factors to fall readily into place. It explained the silence, and the conflict that he felt. It was not an easy conversation to have with a person, he imagined, explaining to them that they had been a curative and nothing more. His grip tightened on the steering controls, determined to spare Ana the unnecessary discomfort. He was Lúka Jibral, after all: he had no heart left to wound.

"I know that this wasn't -"

He trailed off, surprised that his normal way with words had chosen this opportunity to fail him.

"I know that this was just once. It was something you needed, and that I needed, and we're both the better for it, but don't -"

A flicker of a laugh snuck out, mostly absorbed without fanfare into the Coruscanti air.

"You don't need to worry about hurting my feelings, Doc. I don't have any."

[Anastasia Xivelle]

Was that all this was? A relief of stress, a one night stand? It sounded right, and yet it didn't. Yet there was a hint of finality to his words that caught her off guard, the way he phrased it was even more alarming. Not in what he had said precisely, but in the fact she had been considering the exact same sentiment. This is fine, if that's all this was. Don't worry, you can't break my heart, I don't have one anymore.

It should have been more disturbing to hear such an echo come from his mouth, but considering the shared pain they had expressed earlier... These things happened for a reason.

"I suppose that makes two of us." She offered, a slight smile edging the bittersweet words.

It wasn't a lie, not even a veiled one. There was a blunt refusal she felt to allow this to be more than just what it had been. Enjoyable, certainly. Beneficial, of course. Meaningful, however...

Anastasia cast a final sidelong glance towards Lúka. There was a whole lot of possibility within the man, but at the end of the day they were still what they were, tools of the Empire, coworkers, co-conspirators. They may have had their own little secret now, but it was one they both would keep even from themselves. It was better that way, more efficient. And there was nothing the two of them were if not that.