Private Bracing For A Hard Landing

[Sergeant Omen]

Sipping his coffee in the kitchen, Omen let out a relaxed sigh, still recovering from the Korda's visit. His energy certainly could drain a person. He was just happy that the Destroyer hadn't broken the guest bed. Those creaking sounds that he heard from the guest bedroom throughout the night made it sound like the entire bedframe was going to give out.

Aren would find him outside, doing his usual morning rountine of watering his planters inside. "If only she would let my till out the entire small backyard we have... Think of all the plants we could grow" passed through his mind as she silently closed the door. It was the perfect ambush... If there was a time to have their talk, it would be now.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren slipped outside quietly and paused just behind him for a moment, watching the way he moved between the planters with the watering can, unhurried and focused in that particular way he always adopted when he needed space to think. There was a steadiness to him in those moments, a kind of inward concentration that she had come to recognize as easily as her own breath.

"You are up early," she said lightly, her voice carrying a gentle warmth. "I am guessing that was not because the guest bed suddenly sounded stable."

She stepped closer and leaned against the doorframe beside him, settling into the space with the ease of someone who had long since stopped pretending she did not care.

"About last night," Aren continued after a small pause, her tone softening into something quieter and more deliberate. "When he said the word clone. I saw the way you shut down."

Her words held no accusation, only honesty shaped with care.

"You did not make it a problem. You just went and did the dishes instead."

Her gaze stayed on him, steady and unflinching, as if she wanted him to understand that she had noticed more than he realized.

"That is something you always do," she added, her voice gentle rather than critical.

She reached out without thinking and brushed a bit of damp soil from his wrist, the touch light and familiar, a small gesture that said she was here and paying attention.

"You do not have to carry that kind of weight quietly," she said, her voice low and sincere. "Not with me. Not when you are standing in my home."

A small pause followed, not awkward but intentional, giving the words room to settle.

"You are here because I want you here," Aren finished simply, her tone steady and certain. "Not because you are useful, and not because you owe me anything."

She let the silence stretch for a moment, not to pressure him, but to make sure he heard every part of what she meant.

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Even though he didn't say anything, Omen noticed Aren's presence as soon as he walked out the double doors onto the balcony. Maybe it was the Force telling him where the most precious thing in his life was. His half smile as she spoke told her she wasn't far off. "Nobody needs to have a heartache trying to appease my feelings. I'll keep reactions like that as fuel to overcome them. Besides, we didn't need a wrestling match to wreck the whole dining room." Looking out onto the city, his face showed contentment before he turned to her and held her cheeks, giving her a soft kiss. "Besides, how can you drag me back to bed for loving making when I'm already in it?"

Omen's grin became even wider as he heard her admission. "Could you say that again? I need to get the force-resistant record so I can replay that sentience over and over." Sliding his hand onto her on the balcony railing, his admiring gaze was on her, never seeming to come off as he continued. "Part of the reason I didn't freak out is that I knew you would comfort me later." And wasn't that the truth.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren let out a quiet breath that was half a laugh as he spoke, her hands resting lightly over his wrists when he cupped her face, leaning into the kiss without hesitation. She lingered there for a moment longer than strictly necessary, forehead resting against his when they parted, her eyes warm and steady.

"You're very good at reframing things," she murmured. "I'm not sure whether that's resilience or stubborn optimism, but it works."

She shifted slightly, turning so her shoulder brushed his chest as she leaned back against the railing beside him, still close enough that neither of them had to reach.

"And for the record," Aren continued calmly, "using discomfort as motivation is fine. Pretending it doesn't exist is not. There's a difference."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, thoughtful rather than critical.

"You didn't freak out because you trusted the situation," she said. "And because you trusted me."

That mattered.

At his teasing about recording her words, one corner of her mouth lifted.

"Absolutely not," she replied dryly. "There will be no archival evidence of emotional vulnerability."

She rested her hand over his on the railing, fingers threading lightly through his.

"You already replay things in your head enough as it is," she added.

When he admitted he had known she would comfort him later, her expression softened, something quieter and more intimate settling there.

"I'm glad you know that," Aren said simply. "Because it's true."

She leaned in again, brushing a brief kiss against his cheek this time.

"You don't have to carry things alone first and share them later," she added gently. "You're allowed to come to me while they're happening."

Then, with faint amusement in her eyes:

"And if you're already in bed," she finished, "dragging you back becomes significantly easier."

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen dryly chuckled as he replied. "Oh no, that's resilience. It's from trying to break through your monotone all these months. * The Clone never pretended that weight doesn't exist, he just... distanced himself from it. The same way most people distanced themselves from their problems.

He had to admit Aren wasn't wrong. Replaying things and regret were a lot of his issues. That and probably not getting out enough. Still the kiss on the cheek and her embrace told him that was in the right place to help. Beaming a smile back at her as he focused on her face in the sunlight, he embraces his body against her side. "I will next time. I can't exactly let you know in the moment, but we can discuss our troubles after next time." His own amusement soaked into his voice as he replied. "If you want me to drag me back to bed, I'll never say no." And Aren knew Omen would never stop her from dragging him back to their little love nest.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren's lips curved despite herself when he accused her monotone of being the source of his resilience, and she gave him a look that was almost offended, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her.

"My monotone," she repeated calmly, "is a carefully calibrated instrument. If you managed to survive it, that says more about your adaptability than my delivery."

She let herself settle against him when he drew closer, her body fitting easily into the space at his side as though it had always belonged there. The morning light caught along the edge of his jaw, and for a moment she simply studied him the way he studied her, taking in the steadiness behind the humor.

"I know you don't pretend it's not there," Aren said more quietly. "You just put it on a shelf and decide you'll deal with it later. Which works, until later keeps stacking."

Her hand slid from the railing to rest lightly against his chest, fingers spreading just enough to feel the warmth beneath his shirt.

"I'm not asking you to announce things in the middle of someone else's kitchen," she added. "I'm just saying you don't have to wait until it calcifies."

When he promised they could talk after next time, her expression softened, approval flickering there. "That's all I want," she said simply. "After is fine. As long as it happens."

At his last comment, the one about dragging him back to bed, the corner of her mouth lifted again, slower this time, more deliberate.

"Careful," Aren murmured. "You're setting a precedent." Her thumb brushed lightly against his side before she leaned in just enough that her voice lowered. "And I rarely ignore an open invitation."

She held his gaze for a beat longer, then added with quiet certainty, "Finish your coffee. Then we'll see how committed you are to that statement."

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Ones, Aren was something else... Omen could only shake his head and chuckle at her explanation. "I guess so. I have to try to keep up with you and your awesomeness." Smiling as he held her against him, he let her study him all he wanted. Atleast Aren was better looking than the Kamionians who studied him while he was in the tube growing. The act still earned his classic snarkey response though. "You might want to stop looking at me like that. You are going to make me think you still love me or something." It would bad to give him some false hope.

The tone of the coversation got just alittle bit more serious when Aren got back on topic, though Omen was abit distacted by where she was touching to fully pay attention. "Umm... Yeah... I'll do that... You know, you really are distracting..." Just that touch was enough for all of his troubles to fade away. "If you keep touching me like that, I might not be able to remember anything soon. My brain will turn to mush."

Resisting the urge to just fling the mug off the balocny and throwing her over his shoulder, he patiently nodded as he trying to keep himself from going beserk. "Says the person who is only a robe right now. You are the open invitation." Maybe that wasn't the best wording but she could see what he meant. Aren was a snack in every way possible and he couldn't wait to take a bite.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren watched his expression shift from teasing to distracted with the sort of quiet amusement that only deepened the longer he tried to keep his composure. The comment about her "awesomeness" earned a slight arch of her brow, though the warmth in her eyes made it clear she was not actually taking the praise seriously.

"You've managed to keep up so far," she said evenly. "That already puts you ahead of most people."

When he warned her about looking at him like that, her gaze did not move away. If anything, she studied him a little more deliberately, head tilted slightly as if evaluating the claim.

"Still?" Aren repeated, the corner of her mouth lifting faintly. "That would imply it stopped at some point."

Her hand remained where it was against his chest, though the subtle tightening of his shoulders made it very obvious he was having trouble focusing on anything else she was saying. She noticed immediately, of course. She always did.

"You're the one who insisted we talk," she said calmly, though there was a quiet thread of amusement in her voice. "If your brain is turning to mush, that suggests the conversation is not the primary thing holding your attention."

At his comment about her robe, her eyes flicked down briefly, then back up to meet his with an expression that was equal parts dry and knowing.

"It's morning," Aren replied. "Comfortable clothing is allowed."

She let that hang for half a second before continuing, her tone lowering just slightly.

"Besides, if you're this distracted already, throwing you back into bed immediately would defeat the entire purpose of you learning to talk about things instead of avoiding them."

Her thumb brushed lightly against his side again, the smallest deliberate motion.

"Finish your coffee," she said quietly. "Then we'll revisit the open invitation you think I made."

The faintest hint of a smile followed.

"And for the record," Aren added, "you're the one who suggested dragging you back to bed. I'm simply considering whether you deserve it."

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen had faced a hundred battlefields and faced down thousands of foes, but this woman... this woman was going to put him in his grave via a heart attack. Trying his best to regulate his breathing, he managed to gulp down his beating heart as it seemed to want to come up to see what the matter was. "Yeah, given how beautiful you look most people would have fainted by now." The comeback was probably the only thing preventing him from completely falling all over her. The Clone had to keep some dignity.

Shaking his head, he did his best to avoid her critical gaze, pretending that it would make him melt. His eyes were solidly planted on the flowerbeds in his planters as he replied. "Good to know. I love your boob window... I mean I love you too Aren." Ones, he was hopeless. Letting out a groan with his hands over his face as he leaned over the balcony, he tried to regain his composure but knew he would fail every time he looked into her brown eyes.

Looking mock annoyed as he glanced at his partner, Omen couldn't help but shake his head. "Mhm, sure... That's just comfortable and nothing else. And the view in front of me is hard to avoid..." Not be able to hold back any longer, the Clone pulled Aren closer, their bodies up against each other before letting her pull away while he had a smirk of his own gracing his face. "You are half making me think you are wanting my company. Not that I would ever mind spending time with you and these lovely lips that I could kiss forever." Just to prove his point, his hands gripped her waist as he pulled her in for a long tender kiss, only pulling away when they both were out of breath. "Hopefully... that was enough for you to decide." And with that Omen parted with her, offering her bum a slap as he walked past before heading inside, sipping his coffee like nothing had ever happened.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren had just enough time to register the look on his face before the words started tumbling out of him in that wonderfully disastrous way that only Omen seemed capable of when she had thoroughly knocked his composure off balance.

Her brow lifted slightly when he tried to correct himself, though the corner of her mouth betrayed the amusement she was trying to keep contained. She let him finish, let him bury his face in his hands, and watched the entire performance with the quiet patience of someone who had seen this exact collapse before.

"You are doing remarkably well," Aren said calmly, though the warmth in her voice made it clear she did not entirely mean the compliment in the way it sounded. "Only one catastrophic sentence so far this morning."

When he commented on her robe, her eyes briefly dropped to it, then returned to him with the same composed expression.

"It is comfortable," she replied evenly. "The fact that you find it distracting is not a design flaw."

Before she could say anything else, he pulled her in, and the sudden closeness made her breath catch just slightly, though she returned the kiss without hesitation. When he finally pulled back, leaving both of them short of air, she studied him with a quiet, assessing look as if she were mentally reviewing the situation.

"That was a convincing argument," Aren said at last, her voice softer now.

Then he walked away.

The slap earned him a sharp inhale of surprise more than actual offense, and she turned just in time to watch him disappear inside with that infuriatingly casual sip of coffee. For a moment, she simply stood there. Then she followed him in.

By the time she stepped through the door again, her composure had returned completely. "Omen." Her voice carried just enough authority to stop him mid-step.

She closed the distance between them in a few quiet strides, reached up, and took the mug from his hand before he could protest. "You started something on the balcony," Aren said evenly. Her gaze held his. "You do not get to retreat into the kitchen as if nothing happened." She set the mug aside on the counter, then stepped closer until there was barely any space left between them. "If you are going to make dramatic gestures," she added quietly, "you should be prepared for the consequences."

And this time, when she kissed him, she made absolutely certain he understood that walking away had been a mistake.

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen knew it was a convincing argument, just as being there was a convincing one for him to be near her. If Aren had seen the smug smile on his face when he went inside, she probably would have done more than kiss him. Her voice told him that she was already peeved off enough to put him on the couch for a very long time.

Thankfully, though, she wasn't about to kick him to the curb yet, and he kissed back with all the passion and love he could muster. When they stopped wrestling in bed, he looked at the ceiling and then at her, thinking he was so lucky to be alive.

Aren D'Shade