The moment I stepped out of the antique shop, the weight of the axe-staff strapped to my back felt heavier than it should. Not because it was physically burdensome. No, it was the looming dread of Vasha's reaction that made my spine itch.
She's gonna kill me.
I checked the chrono on my helmet's HUD. Late. Very late. Vasha's meeting with her backchannel client should've wrapped up ages ago. If she'd already gotten home and found me missing, I was in for a lecture. And if she hadn't noticed yet? Well, that was worse, because it meant she was still out, probably doing something reckless, and I wasn't there to watch her back.
I picked up the pace, weaving through the thinning evening crowd. Lothal's sky was bleeding into twilight, painting the streets in gold and shadow. The air smelled like street food and engine grease, familiar and comforting. Almost enough to distract me from the fact that I was about to walk into an interrogation.
Okay, play it cool. Just say you went for a walk. Needed air. Got distracted by a… uh… a really interesting rock. Yeah, she'll buy that.
I turned the corner onto our street, already rehearsing my excuses—
And froze.
There she was.
Vasha, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. And she wasn't alone.
Some guy stood in front of her. Mid-thirties, maybe. Clean look. Expensive enough to say "I have money" but not so loud as to scream "I'm compensating for something." I tried to remember the client list in my head. Nothing. No matches with known ones.
A new client? Then why the hell were they out here? Not in the shop or atleast office. Just... chatting in street like casual friends. Way too comfortably for my obsessive ass.
Suspicion kicked me right in the gut.
I nudged my helmet's audio filters up a notch and angled my approach, still under the cover of my "short alien courier with a suspiciously large package" disguise. Nobody paid attention to couriers. That's the whole point.
"...really impressive what you've built here," the guy was saying, his voice smooth—too smooth. The kind of smooth that makes oil feel insecure. "Not many could turn scrap into success. Especially in this economy."
Okay, first of all, that's a line straight out of the flirty con-man handbook. Page one. Underlined.
Vasha laughed. That soft, awkward one she used when she wasn't sure if she should be flattered or annoyed. "Oh, it's nothing special," she said, waving it off. "Just good mechanics and a bit of luck."
Pfft. Luck, my ass. She's a damn genius with a hydrospanner. She could fix a hyperdrive with chewing gum and spite. And this creep was soaking it up like he invented compliments.
Then he leaned in. Subtle. Just a smidge. But enough to make my alarms go full red.
"I'd call it more than luck," he said, voice dipping lower. I KNOW THAT TONE!!
"Talent like yours is rare. And you've got an eye for detail, most people wouldn't notice the precision in your work."
His gaze dropped - no, lingered- on her lekku.
Oh no. Nope. Absolutely not.
Don't look there, you sleemo. Those are not for you. Those are... decorative. Functional. Definitely not for your kriffing visual appreciation. Mine only!
Vasha's lekku twitched. Her version of a nervous shuffle. A little embarrassed. A little caught off guard. The faintest blush hit her cheeks.
Uh-oh.
"Well, I do try to be thorough," she said, tone tighter now, more restrained. Her arms uncrossed just long enough to recross them. Did she like the compliment? Did she hate it? Should I move closer to get an emotional pulse? No! Bad Ezra! That's a red flag!
"Thoroughness suits you," he purred. Seriously? PURRED? "It's refreshing to meet someone so dedicated. So passionate."
Passionate. Always sounds fine until someone says it like it's an invitation to a hotel room.
"You can see it in how you talk about your shop," he added, stepping closer. Just a bit. Just enough to be noticeable.
Don't you finish that sentence.
"A woman who knows her way around a workshop... that's something special. Rare. Valuable."
I nearly choked on my own tongue.
Look, I get it. She's stunning. Smart. Talented. The kind of woman who could make a battle droid cry with a wrench. But watching some smarmy, probably-married bastard try to flirt his way into her good graces with lines that smelled like pheromone-laced perfume? No. Absolutely not.
Vasha shifted, clearly flustered now. She was looking a bit around, and through my tinted (both literally and metaphorphically) lens, I felt like she was not that comfortable now.,
Maybe she didn't even realize what this guy was doing. Or maybe she did. But what I learned of her in last few years, I would put my balls in bet for the former possibility.
Bless her trusting heart.
She probably thought this was just a client being overly complimentary. She was soaking up the praise like sunshine through a window, completely missing the lecherous storm cloud giving it.
Well, too bad for this guy, because I was already moving. Couldn't keep standing here eavesdropping like a stalker. No, I prefer crashing parties instead.
I strode past, the container box with the axe-staff knocking awkwardly against my back and gave that guy a knock. The guy didn't even glance my way or flinch. Dedicated....just to the fucking wrong cause.
He just kept trying to undress her with his eyes. Which he needs to STOP, by the way. Or I am gonna really start doing bad things...which may or may not include making him my first test subject for using Force to create testicular torsion!
I turned the corner and immediately broke into a jog, ducking into the alley. The moment I was out of sight, I tore off the disguise like it owed me money. Helmet off. Coat flung. Weird padding dumped behind a stack of droid legs.
I sprinted through the workshop, past the half-finished projects, leapt over the toolbox Vasha kept forgetting to close, and exploded out the front door like I hadn't just changed identities in under thirty seconds.
I skidded to a halt on the sidewalk. Smoothed down my hair. Fixed my face.
Cool. Casual. Totally-not-jealous shop partner.
I adopted my best Ezra expression—mild curiosity, maybe a touch of 'oh, what's going on here?'—and looked down the street toward Vasha and Mr. SmoothlikeBanthaShit.
If he so much as breathed the word "valuable" again, I was going to shove his datachip where the suns don't shine.
...
The moment I spotted them again, Thane was doing The Lean™—you know the one. Half a step too close, posture relaxed just enough to scream "I've practiced this in a mirror." His smile was smooth. His tone was smoother. And Vasha?
Her lekku twitched in that way I knew too well - mildly flattered, slightly confused, and completely unaware she was being flirted with by a discount holodrama lead.
Time to ruin someone's day.
I strutted over, not hurrying, but walking with the slow, deliberate confidence of someone who absolutely belonged here. Owned the sidewalk. Paid rent on the atmosphere.
Then I let it rip.
"Mom!"
Vasha jolted like I'd shot her with a stun bolt. Beautiful. I sprinted the last few steps and threw my arms around her waist, mashing my face against her side like I'd just been rescued from an orphanage fire.
"You said you'd be home ages ago!" I wailed. "I got so lonely!"
Then I peeked up at Thane with the biggest, most innocent eyes I could muster and added a sniffle for extra emotional terrorism.
Vasha went stiff. For like a second. Then came the snort. The snort of a woman trying very hard not to laugh in someone's face.
Her hand dropped to my hair, ruffling it with all the affection of someone vigorously trying to erase a bad idea. "What the hell's gotten into you, you little gremlin?"
"Love and abandonment issues," I mumbled into her coat.
Thane, to his credit, tried to recalibrate. His face did that thing where someone's trying not to visibly panic. "Mom?" he said, like the word tasted weird.
Then his eyes swept down to me, very human, very not-Twi'lek, and his brain visibly rebooted.
"Oh. I… see. Adopted?"
His smile rebooted too. A little tighter. A little more strained. Good.
"Nope!" I beamed up at him, still latched onto Vasha like a baby tooka. "All natural. Dad was human. Totally dominated the gene pool. Strong DNA, y'know? Mom says I got his stubbornness too. And his gift for getting into trouble." I leaned further into her, feeling her sides quiver with barely contained laughter.
She pinched my cheek. Hard. "Ow!"
"Cut the bantha-crap, you tiny liar," she muttered, but her eyes were sparkling. Her arm draped over my shoulder like a victory flag. "Ignore the chaos goblin. This is Ezra, my apprentice, business partner, and professional headache distributor."
"Thane," she added, nodding toward the guy, who looked like he was still trying to figure out how his smooth day got sucker-punched by a kid. "He's just asking about some repair work."
Thane exhaled like he'd been holding his breath since I yelled Mom. "Ah. Apprentice. That makes much more sense." He gave me a smile that was about as genuine as a Black Sun peace offering. "Nice to meet you, Ezra. Very... creative imagination you have."
"Thanks!" I chirped, radiating pure, unadulterated mischief. "I practice daily. So, Mr. Thane," I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for both to hear, "what needs fixing? Blaster on the fritz? Speeder acting up? We do good work. Fast, too. Especially if Mom here isn't distracted." I gave Vasha's side a gentle nudge with my elbow. "She gets all dreamy-eyed talking about flux capacitors. It's kinda cute, but bad for business."
Vasha swatted my head. "That's enough out of you, sparkplug."
She turned to Thane, doing her best to reassemble her professional face, even as her mouth twitched. "We can talk tomorrow, if you're serious about the job. Midday. The shop'll be open."
Then she yanked me a little tighter against her. "And I need to feed this one before he starts chewing on exposed wiring."
Thane got the message. He gave one of those 'trying to stay cool but also dying inside' nods. "Of course. Midday." His smile at Vasha lingered a beat too long, but when he glanced at me, it dropped a few degrees. He turned and walked off with just enough stiffness to make my soul sing.
I waited until he turned the corner before I said, "Well, that was fun."
Vasha let out a long, soul-deep sigh, but her arm didn't move from around my shoulders.
"Mom? Really?" she asked. "And dominating genes? Where do you even come up with this stuff?"
"TV dramas and desperation," I said proudly. "Did you see his face? The panic when I called you Mom? Pure art. I should've charged admission."
Vasha rolled her eyes, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. "He was just being polite, Ezra. Clients sometimes act extra-friendly. It's normal."
I tilted my head. "So when he said your 'precision wasn't the only thing that caught the eye,' that was what—customer service?"
Her lekku twitched again. Betrayed by her own body. "Okay, maybe that one was a little... much."
"Uh-huh."
"People sometimes talk like that..," she said, a little too defensively. "Doesn't mean anything."
"If I told a client their astromech was 'rare and valuable' in that voice, you'd have me scrubbing the refresher with a toothbrush."
She flicked my ear. "You are scrubbing the refresher. And you are 10! You shouldn't be talking with anyone in that voice!"
I grinned. "Fair. Still, that guy had some not very good intentions. I could feel it with my powers"
"You're insufferable," she muttered, shaking her head. But I saw the blush creeping up her neck before she rushed into the shop with me following her back.
But striking back a moment later, just as I entered inside, she pinched my ears "And what was that black lies about me going dreamy-eyed!?"
"Ouchie! And I didn't lie! You do get a weird look when you're deep in a circuit board," I pointed out, while wiggling my ears out of her hands, "It's like your brain goes on vacation and leaves your face behind, kinda like slack-jawed."
The moment I did, I slipped ahead of her while wiggling my butt with malevolent teasing intentions.
"You know what else goes slack?" she asked sweetly, then rushed ahead and pinched my butt with a vengeful force, far beyond my force-enhanced reaction speeds (well, the enhancements were 0 but still...)
I yelped and spun, rubbing my butt. "That's abuse, you know! I'm going to file a report with the local authorities."
"Good luck," Vasha said, already halfway to the workbench. "I am the local authority in here."
"And judge, jury, and pinch-happy executioner," I muttered, trudging in after her.
The depot door hissed shut behind us, sealing out the city noise. Just us, the faint whir of idle servos, and the subtle hum of overloaded power couplings we kept meaning to fix. Safe. Home.
Vasha was already peeling off her jacket, tossing it over the back of her chair in that signature way that said, 'I'll hang it properly never.' She stretched, her lekku shifting as she rolled her shoulders. I had to forcibly look away and remind myself that I was in a child's body with no business noticing things like shoulder lines or how her tank top clung just a little when she—
Nope. Abort.
I focused on the bench instead, pretending to be fascinated by a cracked torque wrench.
"Hey," Vasha said after a pause, "thanks for that. Back there."
I glanced up. She wasn't looking at me, just fiddling with the diagnostic pad, but her voice had softened. Just enough to make me freeze for a second.
"He was starting to get a little... much. I mean, not dangerous, just... you know."
"Yeah," I said, hopping onto the nearest stool. I didn't knew what was dangerous, I was just trying to fend off potential competition, but never wrong to agree with the lady. "He gave me discount sleazeball energy. Like a guy who tips well just so he can touch the waitress's hand a little too long. Not good manners I heard"
She snorted, shoulders shaking. "That's... disturbingly accurate."
"Well, I'm disturbingly observant," I said, crossing my arms smugly. "It's part of thepackage."
There was a beat. Just quiet hums and flickering LEDs. The atmosphere was getting too emotional all of a sudden...Then she spoke again, quieter.
"You really don't have to protect me, you know. You not joining academy...to just stay here in this run down workshop, you deserve better..."
The words were casual. Almost offhand. But they hit like a hammer wrapped in a smile.
I looked at her for a long second, trying to read between the lines. She still wasn't facing me, but I could see the tension in her neck. The kind that didn't come from lifting engine parts.
"I know," I said softly. "But I want to."
Because you're all I've got. Because you took me in. Because you're too trusting sometimes, and that scares me. Because even if you don't know what he was angling for, I do.
She turned then, meeting my gaze. Just for a moment. Then she rolled her eyes and reached over to muss my hair. "You're ridiculous."
"You love it," I shot back.
"Eh." She smirked. "Fifty-fifty. Mostly I just keep you around because you're small and fit in vents."
"Rude," I gasped, placing a hand on my chest. "I am so much more than that. I'm also an award-winning saboteur, an excellent liar, and I once made a T-7 protocol droid cry with only six words."
"You probably deserved a medal for that," she muttered, smirking as she turned back to the bench.
I watched her for a second longer. The way she moved when she was finally relaxed. The way the tension bled out of her now that Sleazeball Thane was gone.
Then I pulled a datapad over and flicked it on, pretending to scan the inventory.
But the truth buzzed under my skin like a live wire.
I'd seen the way Thane looked at her. Like she was a shiny new speeder he wanted to test-drive. I didn't like that look. Not because I was worried she'd fall for him—she wasn't that easy. But because for a second, she'd doubted herself. Because someone that charming, that practiced, could make you question if the flattery was real or if maybe, just maybe, you wanted to believe it.
She deserved better than that. (Not saying its me, but for the records, I am better than that)
So yeah. I might've torpedoed a potential client. Might've overplayed the 'Mom' card. Might've burned a few bridges before they even existed.
But for her?
I'd salt the whole damn road.
----_----
A/N : Originally I had written the guy to be less sleazy and Vasha also being not totally off towards him, cuz like she ain't waiting for her knight on horse to reject all other guys as if they were flies.
But I asked myself again if I would like to read something like that? Answer was no, so there you go.
Also, I have decided to add a bit more strict scheduled time for chapter update now that we have gotten a bit famous (Let me cope).
I will update each alternate day on 4 PM UTC which is basically the time when powerstones update. Any bonus chapters will also be updated at around same time if there aren't any chapters that day, and if there are, then 15-30 minutes later.
If you want to support me or read advanced chapters, you can do so at Patreon. I would be highly appreciative of that and it would support me very much in my writing endeavors.
Link: www(dot)patreon(dot)com/Abstracto101