AN: Because I felt like it: Three Kisses!

1. His Ordered Mind

"My Lord, I am prepared to administer the requested tonic," Cpt. Quinn reported. He congratulated himself on keeping the quiver completely out of his voice.

Lord Becchino ignored him in her accustomed fashion. She stood tall, arms folded behind her back, eyes on the pyramid's top dominating the poison-green landscape of Yavin IV.

Malavai smiled thinly: "My Lord Wrath, am I dismissed?"

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Lord Becchino said. "My title is not meaningless."

"I certainly hope so, My Lord. And I shall do my uttermost to help you quell any fool who disagrees," Cpt. Quinn nodded. The bruises on his neck hurt when he did it. Well, he refrained from healing it for this very reason. To remind him that Lord Becchino did not strangle him when she should have.

"Thank you, Captain," Lord Becchino looked away from the Emperor's cradle. Looked at him, instead. She squinted, as if she were seeing him for the first time. A man did not have to be a genius military strategist to see that opening. He seized it. The strangest thing, she wasn't taller than him. They were of a height. Their lips were perfectly aligned.

By some reason it appealed to his ordered mind.

2. All Wrong

Ashara did not do nearly enough pacing to calm down when he knew, and came to see her. "The Force willed your pain," he'd said reaching for her in the same inevitable way a weed stretches out towards the sun. "Allow me to soothe the hurt of the vision."

She slapped his hand away: "Not mine. Yours. I saw you suffering. On a horrible planet called Rishi."

"Then it shall come to pass," Ruvvoy responded evenly. "Do not trouble yourself with it any longer."

"Like it came to pass that you sit on the Dark Council, Darth Imperius? Did the Force will that?" Before she'd even finished, she knew it was all pointless.

His answer was predetermined, and always, always, always the same.

"All Chains will be broken, Ashara. The Force will set us free. Through me, or through another. It matters not."

Of course.

How she hated him for that.

"Leave, Darth," she'd ordered. Ruvvoy touched her cheek and obeyed, his heavy robes rustling as he was walking away.

The doors closed, and Ashara leaned against it, touched her fingertip to where he'd just touched her, and kissed it.

Then she grabbed the sabres and slashed at the training dummy: "We'll see about it coming to pass, Force! Don't you think he'd suffered enough?" Another vicious slash. "Back off, back OFF!"

She'd almost heard an incorporeal laughter that sounded suspiciously like Zash's, and hit harder and harder.

How she loved him.

3. An Appetite

The doors closed behind Vette, cutting off the escape route. No light, but the lilac glow of Dromund Kaas out of the window. She stared at Yvolgar's prone form. Armed. Armored. Still.

"My Lord," she said, holding the tray with food before her, "Long time ago, I've promised your mom to spoon-feed you, should you ever miss a meal. Tell you the truth, never thought it would come to that."

Yvolgar opened his eyes, but did not move. Great, a staring contest with a Sith. Just what she needed.

Vette tossed her head, breaking the eye contact: "Malavai was a snitch. So it happens. But the rest of us are loyal to you to the end. My Lord, isn't that enough to… "

to… what? What is Broonmark's loyalty worth? Jaesa's? Pierce's? Hers?

She finished lamely: "…to get your appetite back?"

"Vette," Yvolgar sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "You shot him."

"And I'd shoot him again. This time with no stupid shield generators to save the pale son of a Hutt! Only Jaesa told me you wanted him alive. And that you weren't eating. Or talking. Blazes, Yv… I mean, my Lord… I mean… Just blasted… eat!"

"If Lord Baras put the screws on you, Vette, if he pressed the buttons of that shock collar, and told you to kill me, what would you have done?" Yvolgar asked intently.

"Died," she shrugged matter-of-factly. "Will you eat now?"

Yvolgar lifted a hand, and the tray was ripped out of Vette's hands. It hit the wall splattering the food all over the corner. Hail thee, my all-powerful Force Lord!

Vette threw her now empty hands up in the air: "I did promise your mom! Erm, my Lord."

She started for him, fully intending to kick him.

The Sith sat up: "Another step, and I'll forget all the good reasons why I should not be making love to you."

Vette stopped short and made an effort to snap her mouth shut. After the jaw and the tongue became fully manageable again, she attended to her legs. It took another moment to get that connection re-established. Vette took a very measured step forward, a dancer's step: "Good reasons? Do tell, my Lord."

"You… you were my slave," Yvolgar said uncomfortably, "I freed you. You are understandably grateful and—"

Vette guffawed: "Why, the good looks and largess, and the whole honorable champion thing aside, there is nothing whatsoever going for you. You've always went for gratitude and pity! Uh-huh. A good one, My Lord."

She took another step forward.

"You are my friend. The only friend I've really had since I was a child, since the Force…" Yvolgar blurted lowering his head.

She rolled her eyes and stepped forward again: "Glad to hear that. I was worried you were transferring your whole filial thing to me. That would have been awkward."

"And," Yvolgar paused, and his eyes went up and found hers, "And, I loved Malavai."

She bit her lip and raked her brain. There was nothing there but the Major Hurt bait: "Do you? Still?"

"No," Yvolgar replied with a frightening finality. She felt chilled to the bone. Just like that. He'll always be like that. On or off. A single miss-step, and his heart will be lost to her. But one more step forward, and maybe she'll have it to lose.

She was about to take it, that last tiny step, when Yvolgar leaned forward and pulled her to sit in his lap.

"Stay," he asked thickly. "You won't regret it. I promise."

"Mom's warned me about all men saying that," Vette teased him gently.

"I promise," Yvolgar repeated, his eyes so earnest it hurt.

"Don't need to," she whispered back, and finally, after all that time waiting, and hoping and giving up, her lips grazed his cheek to find his mouth.