#I have many headcanons about this household of spies and jedis and I'd love to just write more about them just existing together

[haledamage]

“We can share the bed. If that’s not weird.” For your choice, bc it’s good for too many of them

Marii and Theron ended up claiming this one 😁 before Rishi but after the Forged Alliances stuff, during the nebulous “looking for more information” portion in between. Marii desperately wanted to have some proper Spy Jedi shenanigans, so what should have been a thousand words of awkward pre-ship yearning instead became a whole Thing

---

Theron Shan was not a Jedi.

This was an indisputable fact, one that had in many ways defined the man he’d become. It had shaped the trajectory of his life, for good or ill.

That didn’t stop him from driving like one.

Marii had been told several times that she, and most other Jedi, drove like they took the “there is no death” line from the Code as a personal challenge. Theron drove the same way, heedless of both the speed and the danger, as if he could sense trouble coming before it arrived and had the reflexes to avoid it, if only narrowly. He barely even watched where he was going, attention split between the traffic they were weaving through, his wrist comm, and shooting back at their pursuers.

He took a sharp right, his speeder drifting around the corner hard enough to make the stabilizers whine in protest and missing the side of a building by millimeters before they shot off in their new direction. Marii barely reacted beyond steadying herself on the back of the seat she was kneeling in; her focus was on the four speeders chasing them, redirecting the steady hail of blaster bolts directed at them to keep them from hitting their mark - or hitting any of the nearby commuters.

“This would be a lot easier if you knew how to use a blaster,” Theron yelled to be heard over the wind rushing past them.

“I told you to let me drive!” It would be a hot day on Hoth before he let anyone else drive his speeder, no matter how much more sense it would’ve made; it was one of the first things Marii had learned about him, and also something she and Kira teased him about endlessly. “How do you want to do this?”

“Quiet didn’t work.” He aimed his blaster over his shoulder, firing blindly. There was a crack of shattering glass as the bolt hit the windshield of one of the speeders chasing them. It swerved wildly, nearly taking out the one next to it before righting itself. “Let’s go loud.”

That’s exactly what she’d been hoping he would say, and her wild grin told him as much. “Get me an empty lane. I can’t do anything with so many people around us.”

“Might want to hold on to something.” That was the only warning Theron gave before they dropped out of the sky.

Marii grabbed the edge of the seat, trying to ignore the thrill of temporary weightlessness and keep an eye on their pursuers.

They’d miscounted. There were six, not four. Two speeder bikes joined the others as they followed their descent at a little more sedate pace.

“Theron.”

“I see them.” He hit a few buttons on the dashboard, and they somehow picked up even more speed.

It still wasn’t enough to outrun blaster bolts. One slipped past her guard and grazed the driver’s side mirror, sending a shower of sparks at Theron.

“Marii!”

“On it.”

As soon as they leveled out, Marii climbed out of her seat, trusting in the Force - and Theron’s driving - to keep her feet planted to the back of the speeder as she drew her lightsabers. They activated with a hiss, the twin white blades making her a very obvious target in the neon-lit dusk of Nar Shaddaa. Predictably, the incoming blasterfire all started targeting her exclusively; none of it could get past her blades.

Now that they didn't have to worry about hurting civilians, their job was a lot easier. The first speeder was neatly bisected by a thrown lightsaber. With Marii there to shield him, Theron could take a few extra seconds to aim, and a well-placed shot sent one bike careening into the other, taking them both out. The fourth took a turn too wide and ended up embedded in an office building. The fifth one…

"Is that a rocket launcher?"

Theron dropped his blaster to the passenger-side floorboards and grabbed Marii’s ankle instead, keeping her from losing her balance as she deflected the first rocket that headed their way. She managed to knock the second one away too, barely; it exploded close enough to send the speeder veering off course. 

A third rocket didn’t come immediately, but it was probably only a matter of time. They wouldn’t be able to dodge them forever, no matter how good of a pilot he was.

On some unspoken signal, Theron released her ankle and slammed on the brakes, letting the remaining pursuers close the gap. As soon as they were close enough, Marii leapt toward the speeder with the rocket launcher. She landed hard on the hood, making it drop a couple meters before it righted itself. Three people stared back at her with identical expressions of confused shock at her sudden arrival.

The last remaining speeder zipped past them, heading straight for Theron, and Marii had to push away the worry that shivered up her spine. He was a grown man, and one who’d been doing this even longer than she had. He didn’t need a Jedi playing righteous defender; he could protect himself. She trusted him to do so, and kept her eyes on the rocket man.

He lifted the launcher, intending to blow her up at point blank range. Stupid for many reasons, but most of all because he was well within range of her lightsabers. She cut the launcher in half, the pieces of it - and the live and whole rockets inside them - falling into the back seat. Rocket Man swore and reached for the blaster at his hip.

One of the other two passengers grabbed Marii’s arm, attempting to either throw her off the side or grapple her long enough for Rocket Man to shoot her. A flourish of her blade removed the offending grip, as well as the offending hand, and a quick push with the Force knocked both her attacker and his partner out of the speeder. She turned back to Rocket Man and dispatched him with an almost careless swing of her sword.

And then there was only her, in a pilotless vehicle full of rockets.

Marii leapt from the wayward speeder as it careened toward an intersection, dragging one saber through the fuel tank as she fell past it. Better to blow it up now than let it wander off and injure someone. 

She scanned the buildings on either side as she descended, looking for a place to land. She’d probably survive a fall all the way to the planet’s surface - she’d survived worse, certainly, and the Force had always been her ally in this way specifically - but it would still hurt like hell.

She was saved the trouble as a familiar speeder swooped up underneath her and scooped her out of the air. She landed with an oof, half in Theron’s lap and half in the seat next to him. Her saber hilts joined his blaster on the floor as she slumped against him in relief.

Theron looked unbearably smug, but he deserved to be. “Need a lift?”

She let out a breathless laugh and pressed her face to his shoulder in silent gratitude. Thank the stars that she’d found the only spy in SIS as stupidly reckless as she was. “Well, that’s one way to pick up women.”

“It may not be subtle, but it has a hundred percent success rate.” He wound his arm around her waist, sort of a hug and sort of just making sure she stayed in place while he drove around a corner into a labyrinth of narrow alleyways. “You okay?”

She nodded. “A little banged up, but nothing serious, thanks to you. How’re you?”

“Just bruises,” he shrugged. “That could’ve gone a lot worse. Did we get what we needed?”

Marii activated her earpiece while she scrambled back into her seat. “Kira, what’s your status?”

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Kira kept talking without waiting for an answer. “Good news is, your distraction worked. Teeseven got your bug planted and it’s already transmitting. Bad news, your nest of Revanites is on high alert, and they’re on the lookout for two people who look a lot like you and spy boy.”

“Of course they are,” Marii said dryly.

“Still glad you took this job, boss?”

She glanced over at Theron, only to find he was already looking her way. He gave her a lopsided smile, the one he used when he was trying to look disarming. It didn't really work, but she still found it distractingly attractive, even with a split lip and rapidly darkening black eye - gifts from his fight with the last speeder, presumably. "Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to," she muttered to her former padawan.

“You two might wanna lay low for a little while and let this blow over,” Kira continued like Marii hadn’t said anything, but she could hear the smirk in her voice. “Take the rest of the night off, order in, maybe watch a movie. Find somewhere safe until morning and we’ll meet up then.”

"Kira…" It wouldn’t be the first time Kira had tried some convoluted scheme to get Marii and Theron to spend some time together outside of work, though a high-speed chase across Nar Shaddaa was a little much even for her. 

"What? No ulterior motives this time, I swear," she replied, as sweetly as she could. "See you at breakfast."

The call ended and Marii sighed.

“Let me guess.” They emerged from the alleyway and back into busy streets, merging into the flow of traffic and slowing to match the speed of everyone around them. “Our favorite cultists are sending more people our way?”

“More or less.”

He was quiet for a few minutes while he thought, before finally announcing, “We should probably find a hotel for the night or something. Wouldn't want to lead them back to the safehouse if they manage to track us down.”

By the stars, Marii hated when Kira was right. She could almost feel her gloating from across the city. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead. I’m a little out of my depth.”

“You’re doing great,” he told her sincerely. “Really.”

It was a struggle to stifle the proud grin that his casual praise brought about, and she wasn’t entirely successful. Something about the offhand compliments Theron liked to give her made her feel the same thrill that racing across the city at top speed had, the same kind of weightless joy.

The city flew past in a stream of gold and neon. It wasn’t an area Marii was familiar with from her admittedly limited experiences on Nar Shaddaa, but Theron seemed as confident as ever, so she let herself sit back and enjoy the ride. Now that the fight was over, pain and exhaustion started to settle in, and the idea of a bed - even an unfamiliar one in some cheap hotel - was sounding better every minute.

She stayed quiet as Theron gave the receptionist a fake name, an even faker story, and a charming enough smile and large enough pile of credits that they wouldn’t ask questions. They took the lift in companionable silence.

They both stopped in the doorway of their room and stared. The room was so gaudy it would make a Hutt palace look understated. It looked like a fabric store had exploded, but only the velvet and silk departments had landed here. It looked like someone had tried to build a circus tent out of burgundy velvet and was storing it here for the winter. The bed was massive and completely circular, directly in the middle of the room, and off to one corner was something that looked an awful lot like a jacuzzi tub.

Marii regretted not listening closer when Theron was booking the room. What cover had he given that had landed them in the honeymoon suite?

Oh well. At least it was clean, and big enough for two people as tall as they were to move around comfortably. She shrugged and stepped inside, heading to the bathroom. She considered the giant clawfoot tub, wondering how much he’d judge her for taking advantage of the circumstances, but ultimately decided to just hop into the refresher to wash off the worst of the soot and dirt from their day.

When she came back out, Theron was on his datapad, sitting on an ostentatious, overstuffed loveseat in front of the holo-fireplace. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest; in the months they’d been working together like this, she’d gotten used to his work habits. She was fairly certain at least one of his implants was so he could keep working while he slept--but he slept so rarely that she couldn’t say for sure.

Force help her, she thought it was cute. Frustrating on occasion, but cute.

She sat down next to him and carefully touched the bruise over his eye, making sure nothing was broken underneath it. His eyes drifted closed at her touch, work temporarily forgotten. “How’s your head?”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed with some painkillers and a good night’s sleep.” He winced when she touched a sensitive spot and she pulled her hand away. “Too bad we won’t find either of those here.”

“I don’t think this room is meant for… sleep.” She cringed, but it just made him laugh. “You should take the bed. A bad night’s sleep is better than none at all.”

“No way,” he said immediately. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“I’m a Jedi. I’ll meditate or something.” It still wouldn’t be the worst sleep she’d ever gotten, but she didn’t say as much. “It’ll be fine.”

“Or… we could share the bed. If that wouldn’t be weird.” He stood up from the loveseat and paced across the room, as if he couldn’t look at her while making the suggestion. “It would be weird, wouldn’t it? Forget I said anything. Next time I’ll make sure to get a double room.”

“Maybe we should work on our cover,” she teased, kneeling on the loveseat so she could turn around and watch him pace. “Find one that doesn't land us in the honeymoon suite. Or at least in a better honeymoon suite.”

“Sorry, I panicked.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her that crooked boyish grin again. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat. “I’m still not used to this whole teamwork thing.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she assured. “The cover story or sharing the bed.”

“Oh.” That got him to stop pacing, at least. He finally came back over to the loveseat, propping a hip against the back of it so they were relatively close to eye-to-eye. “Okay. Good.”

“Just… do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Theron vowed without hesitation.

Oh. Oh. Marii had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a ridiculous smile off her face. “Don't tell Kira. I'll never hear the end of it.”

He scoffed a laugh. “Trust me, I’m already learning that the less she knows the better.”

Getting ready for bed was somehow both more and less awkward than Marii would have expected. She was very aware of Theron’s presence in the room, but that wasn’t altogether new. They’d been spending a lot of time together, early mornings and late nights and hours at a console sharing a pot of caf and speaking in half-formed thoughts. Familiarity had only made her more conscious of him.

But at the safehouse, they all had their own rooms (except Teeseven and Teethree, who chose to be roommates), and the knowledge that they were sharing this room made even the act of removing her gloves and boots feel salacious. Watching Theron remove his jacket felt even moreso, though she couldn’t put a finger on why; she’d seen him without it plenty of times.

Marii laid down on her back, as far away from Theron as the weird circular bed allowed. Her own face stared down at her from the ceiling, where a gilded-framed mirror hung. It must’ve been concealed by all the draped fabric, because she hadn’t noticed it until she was directly under it.

“This is karking ridiculous,” Theron grumbled. “What the hell kind of people stay in a room like this deliberately?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t plan this, Agent Shan?” She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice, but she tried to keep a straight face. “I’m disappointed.”

“Hey.” He managed to sound genuinely offended, but the corner of his mouth twitched with the effort to conceal a smile. “Give me a little credit.”

When she met his eyes in his reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t hold back anymore and dissolved into giggles. She had to roll over to muffle her laughter in her pillow, on the off chance that the walls were thin enough that her amusement would wake the rest of the hotel. But then Theron joined her and she stopped caring; she could draw the wrath of everyone in the building and it would be worth it.

When they’d finally calmed down, Marii’s sides and cheeks ached in the best way, and the air was clear of the awkwardness that had tried so hard to settle over them. Theron laid much closer now, only a handful of centimeters of ludicrous red silk sheets between them, his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at her with amusement still dancing in his eyes.

“Anything I should know?” he asked in a loud whisper, like they were at risk of being caught up past curfew. “Do you snore? Talk in your sleep?”

“I’ve never had any complaints.” Granted, the only sources she would’ve had were her bunkmates as a youngling and Kira in the early days on the Wayfaring Stranger when the ship felt too empty with just them and Teeseven. Semantics. “You?”

“I hog the blankets.”

She poked him lightly in the chest, pushing just enough to make him lean slightly on his one-armed perch. “I’d like to see you try, spy boy.”

He rocked back toward her, a tiny bit closer than before, and all the humor abruptly drained from his face. Her first instinct was that she'd accidentally hurt him, or that he simply didn't want to be touched. She started to apologize, but the words died on her lips at the look he gave her as soon as she opened her mouth.

It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at her like that, quiet and intense with something akin to hunger darkening his eyes. No doubt her expression was similar. It didn’t happen often enough that she’d gotten up the nerve to address it, but often enough that it was clearly more than incidental. That it meant something.

Normally this was when Kira would call, or an urgent message from Lana or Major Jorgan would arrive. But they weren’t here now to interrupt.

And, it turned out, they didn’t have to be. Among Theron’s many talents, one of them was apparently self-sabotage. Marii could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, then he forced a smile and leaned back to put a little distance between them. It didn’t really help. “We should, uh, we should probably get some sleep. Before the next disaster arrives.”

We don’t have to. The words wouldn’t make it past the lump in her throat. There was a line there, the width of a lightsaber and shaped suspiciously like his family name, that she wasn’t ready to cross. Yet. Instead, she said, “I guess so.” She was thankful her disappointment wasn’t audible in her voice. “Good night, Theron.”

“Good night, Marii.”

The bed was still too big and too soft, the silk sheets clinging to her clothes, but Marii felt safe here, somehow. That, combined with the exhaustion of the day, dragged her into unconsciousness faster than she would’ve normally expected. She slept deep and dreamless, and awoke the next morning a few minutes before their alarm went off.

Theron hadn’t stolen the blankets in the night, but he had stolen half of her pillow, sprawled carelessly across the bed while somehow managing not to crowd her. His hair was a mess, spiked up at odd angles, and in the morning light (such as it was on Nar Shaddaa) the bruise over his eye was the same burgundy as the sheets.

Her stomach did a funny little flip at the sight. He was without a doubt the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, even like this. Maybe especially like this.

A shrill beep from Theron’s datapad signaled that it was time to get up. He groaned and fumbled with his wrist comm until the noise stopped, then buried his face in the pillow. Marii watched with undisguised amusement as it slowly dawned on him where he was and that he wasn’t alone.

He finally rolled over enough to look her way, squinting as if the bit of light they had was still too bright. He gave her a lazy grin. “Hey.”

“Good morning.”

He groaned again and rolled over onto his back. “How’s my hair?” he asked, as if there wasn’t a mirror directly overhead that he could consult about it.

“Never better.” She brushed her hand over the remnants of his mohawk, attempting to either flatten it the rest of the way or tidy it up. It refused to do either. “No, really. It’s cute.”

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll take it.”

As quickly as possible, they got dressed and snuck out of the hotel. They didn’t talk much on the drive back, keeping a wary eye out for anyone following them. It looked like they’d managed to escape reinforcements, at least for now.

They parted ways as soon as they stepped into the familiar confines of the safehouse, Theron heading for the workstation to check on their Revanite trackers and Marii heading to the kitchen to scrounge up something for breakfast. 

She started the caf pot with a wave of her hand, then dug through the fridge to find something she could eat. Doc must’ve stopped by and dropped off groceries - a passive-aggressive effort to make them all stop only eating junk food and takeout - so she grabbed the carton of eggs and an armful of vegetables that wouldn’t require too much chopping and took them over to the counter.

Kira leaned against the cabinets next to her, a knowing smirk on her face as she watched her muddle her way through cooking. “How was the honeymoon suite, boss?” 

Marii tried to stifle her reaction, but she knew it was futile; her partner would be able to feel her alarm through their bond. She chose not to say anything and just scowled at her half-cooked omelet.

Kira’s face lit with a delighted grin. “Are you serious? That’s a smoother move than I would’ve expected from him. Good on you, spy boy.” Theron was thankfully both too far away and too distracted by work to hear her.

Marii glanced over her shoulder anyway, just in case he’d moved into the kitchen and she hadn’t noticed. “Nothing happened,” she muttered.

“His loss.” Kira stared toward the living room where Theron was having a conversation with the droids - or possibly being yelled at by them, if the indignant beeping was any indication. “Want me to get some more Revanites to chase you around town? Maybe second time’s the charm.”

“I feel like there’s got to be an easier way.” Like talking to him about it, but thankfully that wasn’t the kind of suggestion Kira would make. Too obvious, and she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to eavesdrop. “But thanks for the support.”

She shrugged. “What’re friends for?” 

Kira didn’t say anything else as Marii finished cooking, but she could tell she wanted to. Only when the omelets were done (a little brown in places, but serviceable) and plated did she grab her by the elbow and pull her down closer to her height so she could talk quietly. “As a fellow Jedi, I’m required to remind you that romantic attachment is against the rules. But as your friend…” she glanced over Marii’s shoulder pointedly, and there was no doubt who she was looking at, “don’t let him get away, Mar.”

Theron stepped into the kitchen before she could reply, closing a holocall on his wrist comm as he approached them.

“Hey.” He looked like he was about to say more, but he stopped, glancing back and forth between the two Jedi suspiciously. “What’d I miss?”

Kira just laughed and walked away with her breakfast.

Marii handed him a cup of caf and an omelet. She nudged his shoulder with hers as she walked past him to the dining table. “I’ll tell you later.”