Hey-o. Thanks, as always for the feedback - I'm still pumped as always to see people enjoying.

MiJo71 - yes, of course, go for it! Write all the writings however you please. If you were inspired/influenced/etc etc by something I wrote, then I'll just go sit in the corner and be mindlessly flattered :)

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Chapter 18: In Focus

"...good? You good?" the Mandalorian's breathing is hard. Choppy through his modulator.

Hanna nods. She doesn't believe he needs to confirm that.

Also isn't surprised that he does it anyway.

"Hmm...what do you think?" her own breath is still heavy against his helmet where she has tucked her face against it. Fogging up his visor again, likely

"I'm asking..." he rolls his hips forward a last time.

He's soft, now, but of course she can still feel him. Hanna sighs and wraps a hand around the arm planted just next to her head. Gives the muscles of his forearm a squeeze.

"...well, I'm good. I'm perfect..."

"Perfect," he echos her and extracts himself from her, though he remains hovering over her.

"Mmhmm..."

They're both lethargic. Spent. But he holds his weight up on his arms for her comfort. Also so that he can keep a good look at her chest, where he had dislodged her shirt earlier to expose more skin.

Hanna chuckles and tugs at her neckline to right it. She ignores his tut of dismay, but the protest does keep a grin on her face.

Once the view is gone, he settles down onto his elbows. There, he can nuzzle his forehead into hers and scrape his fingers over her scalp.

She rests her eyes lightly.

And it feels good.

.

They have been stealing very late nights or early mornings over the last couple weeks, slipping into one bed or the other. Sometimes just to touch each other. Other times ...for quite a bit more.

They usually try to save sex for the mornings when one of the children have come to whisk the baby away to breakfast. However some times, like today, they go ahead and get carried away. They have to go out of their way to be quiet, but there is something about this that Hanna enjoys. It's a little less serious and a little more rushed, and there's something innocent and silly - almost stupid - in it that makes her feel young. That somehow makes it seem like the Mandalorian doesn't even have a helmet on. The way he chuckles and they shush each other, and when she grins at him she can feel him return it. She doesn't even have to ask.

"And we made it," Hanna grins.

Because the child is the ultimate cock-block. He has managed to interrupt them a couple times with a cluelessness that is so adorable it's almost hard to be annoyed.

Almost.

The Mandalorian snorts and drops his face to her collarbone.

"Yeah..."

Her legs are still looped over his calves, so he's stuck with her a little longer. She takes advantage to stroke across his shoulders and up over the stretch of his neck that's exposed under his helmet.

He doesn't stop her anymore. Leans into it, rather. Squeezes his hands into her long hair. That's as good as him telling her he enjoys it.

But not with words.

Wondering if she can get him to, Hanna curls her fingers into the back of his neck. Not hard enough to leave a mark but with more than enough pressure to feel her short nails. Hanna's only rewarded by a grunt, so she pushes a hand down, scratching toward his shoulder blades. His hands clench tightly into her hair and tug a fraction.

"We don't have time..."

Hanna laughs at his warning but releases him. Melts backwards onto the cot.

"I know. You're just so quiet..."

It's not a complaint, not really.

If at some point she'd imagined the Mandalorian would become a man of many eloquent words once they grew closer, she'd been wrong. But she's not offended. She's used to it and can read him better every day.

"Does that bother you?"

No?

Yes?

From time to time.

Hanna shakes her head. Isn't trying to ask for more than he's giving. She just likes to poke. Prod him from time to time.

"I'm not bothered," she reaches her hands down so they can slip under his shirt. "I just tease..."

To prove it, she tickles over his flank. His only reaction is in the contraction of his abs. Proving himself, too.

"You're stubborn," she pats his side with a smile that's far from upset.

It's a thing she already knows, after all.

"Yes"

Smiling wide, she lifts her head to bonk against his beskar helm, then drops a more traditional kiss where his mouth must be.

.

"Myah! Eh?" Sleepy squeaking joins them from across the barn.

In her mind's eye, Hanna sees the kiddo stretching lazily.

"Kriff..." the Mandalorian sags heavily against her, his weight constricting her chest.

She laughs but he doesn't move right away, apparently thinking very little of her plight.

"I'll get him," she taps-out on his back, and he does sit up, then.

"No. It's alright," he shoves himself out of bed and rights his clothing rather than flop to the side and let her do the work of fetching the baby.

"Not complaining..." Hanna stretches and pulls on the discarded blanket at the foot of his cot to pull over herself.

It's soft and it smells musky and metallic, just like he does.

Not complaining.

"Don't get too comfortable," he ruins this completely after scooping up the giggling child. "We have work to do..."

Right.

They had plans to continue their self defense lessons.

Not as nice as laying in bed together, but it would still be an excuse to have their hands on each other...

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"Well. It's obvious why you asked me for help," Cara smirks over at the Mandalorian from where she is straddling Hanna on the ground.

Cara's been called in as back up for their sparring lesson today. Or, as she's saying, they've finally called-in the big guns.

The master.

The grand chief

The Mandalorian has already told her to shut up more than once.

"I don't need help. I just want to use you as an example..."

"Yeah," Cara's much too happy as she smirks at the man. "Because you wouldn't want the innocent villagers to see you two in a compromising position like this."

She turns her smirk onto Hanna, who's laying on her back, and waggles her eyebrows. Hanna can't say she knows how to to feel about it. Isn't sure whether she should hide her face, tell Cara to buzz off, or maybe she should just laugh out loud...

"Feel free to hit her any time you like," the Mandalorian tilts his head down at Hanna.

He, clearly, has decided how he feels about the teasing.

"Yeah right!" Hanna does laugh, then.

Cara crows triumphantly and pounds her fist against her chest.

"You're both useless," the Mandalorian sounds as though he's very much regretting the entire day's plans.

"Alright, alright," Cara gets with the program, grabs both of Hanna's wrists, and slams them to the ground.

Even though this is scripted and they're here specifically for this - to learn and practice - Hanna feels nervous at once. Cara's look seems to suggest she can tell.

"Yeah ...this is the real stuff," the dominant woman nods.

"That's enough"

"Fuck you. It is," Cara flips her hair to scoff at the Mandalorian and then turns back to looming over Hanna. "Whattcha gonna do, princess?"

That stings for half a moment. Feels condescending. Hanna swiftly reminds herself that Cara doesn't mean anything sour. No, she has jumped at the chance to help out. She'd agreed this was vital for Hanna to practice.

Of course that does mean she and the Mandalorian aren't finding excuses to touch more while in public, but this is important all the same

Cara's right. It's all real, obviously, but the position Cara is in over her is ultimately what women are looking to thwart, right? The very problem Hanna had feared upon relocating to Castillion to live alone in a foreign place.

'A sweet deal...'

Yeah. That had been real stuff. So Hanna steels herself. Runs over the instructions they've already reviewed.

"Yeah," she nods. "Ready?"

"The hell are you asking that for!" the Mandalorian interrupts.

"Huh?" Hanna twists her head toward him. "You said she could face plant..."

"I won't," Cara shrugs.

"And that's her problem. Not yours," the Mandalorians arms are folded tightly where he's leaning lazily against the storage hut.

"Yeah, normally...but since we're-" Hanna pauses when Cara sighs and releases her, sitting back on her hips to wait out the discussion. "We're just practicing, aren't we?"

"Cara can take care of herself"

"I'm aware of that," Hanna props herself up on an elbow to send him a better 'no duh' look.

"Yes, please, keep complimenting me," Cara fans herself in faux-dramatics.

"You need to make sure you're focusing"

He's testy.

Is it Cara? Had he just not slept enough? Is he a little too warm under the helmet? Hanna can't help but wonder if practicing this does disturb him. She remembers the way he'd turned on her in the desert when she had suggested he'd merely spared her from the camp of bandits because she was a bounty to haul in. Perhaps this is one of those honor things. Some Mandalorian boundary of conduct she doesn't know.

Possible.

But, you know, screw him if he thinks she doesn't take it seriously.

Maybe they've been enjoying self defense lessons more than usual this past week - lingering more than necessary. But this isn't like that.

"I know"

"Super!" Cara chirps and dives back in.

She pins Hanna again in one fluid movement. Hanna's weight falls from her elbows so her head knocks back hard enough to jar her. The vulnerable position sends a short bolt of fear down her spine again.

.

Before she can gather herself and perform the move they've been miming - without checking with Cara first since that is apparently sacrilege - the woman rears back up off of her, one arm failing out to the side.

The soldier shouts in surprise and then falls onto her back between Hanna's feet.

"Cara!?" Hanna sits up quickly.

If this is a joke, it's a strange one.

"The fuck!" Cara is panting like she was shoved back hard enough for her breath to be knocked from her.

Or she's a little panicked. Maybe both?

Not a joke, then.

Hanna's hair flies as she flicks her head towards the kid instinctively. The Mandalorian is looking down, too. No longer lounging but standing up straight, arms at his side, and staring down at the kid whose hand is still raised in the air.

When he spots that he has Hanna's attention, he squeals and toddles on rapid feet in her direction.

"Holy kriff..." Hanna scrambles to her knees and scoops him up before he reaches the women.

"Okay," Cara growls. "You know what...!" she shoves herself to her feet, too.

"Cara," Hanna makes sure to cradle the kid in the arm furthest from the soldier.

But she's not charging anyone even if her chest is heaving like she wants to.

"No! I wasn't going to say anything about him -"

"Then don't," the Mandalorian cuts her off with a bite.

The two fighters stare each other down. The kid doesn't do much but watch and blink, but Hanna can't imagine he'll remain so placid if something heated kicks up.

"Alright," she interjects as much calm against the tension as she can. "It's okay. Just ...here. Take him home," she darts over to the Mandalorian and presses the kid into his hands. "Please?"

The man stares down at her for a few seconds but then stomps away.

"He didn't hurt you, right?" Hanna tears her gaze from his retreating form and back to the other woman.

"No," Cara's jaw is still tight while she breathes heavily through her nose.

"Good. It's ...he was just protecting me, I think," Hanna squirms.

Because he's done this before, hasn't he? Not always when she's wanted him to, but he had stepped up before. She has thanked him. Praised him so he knows he did well. How was he supposed to know this wasn't a real threat?

"Lucky you..."

They stare at each other, now. It's not as laced as it had been between Cara and the Mandalorian, but they also aren't as equal a threat to one another. They are safe to be at odds and still know where they stand.

"What?" Hanna sighs. "Just say it..."

They may as well at this point.

"Okay. I will. That," Cara points a finger where the kid had been, "could go bad just as easy as it could go right. You get that?"

As if Hanna's never considered that. Thought about how irrational kids can be and whether he'll ever have a tantrum with those powers. If they're just living on lucky time.

"Look, he's only a kid. He didn't hurt you, so -"

"Do you hear what I'm saying?" the soldier remains insistent.

"... ...yeah."

Of course she does.

"Okay ...I like the little guy, too ...but you need to figure out what the hell to do for him..."

"And what do you suggest?"

Seriously. She's not above alien baby advice.

"Kriff all if I know," Cara snorts. "But did someone teach him that?"

Yes?

No?

Who the kriff are they supposed to ask?

"I have no clue..."

"Well you might wanna find out"

"Yeah...maybe..."

A few awkward moments of silence pass.

"Alright momma bantha ...you want to finish or what?" Cara sighs and throws up her hands lightly.

Hanna glances off at the barn the Mandalorian had disappeared to.

He had told her to focus.

"Sure. We should..."

.

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The Mandalorian is pacing when she finally returns to the barn. Meanwhile, the kid is standing in his crib chewing on the railing while he watches the man with earnest eyes.

"Where have you been?!"

Whoa. Maybe she'd eft him alone too long to stew.

"With Cara. She thinks th-"

Without waiting to hear the whole answer, the Mandalorian lungs at her to snag her arm. He spins her around and pins her back against his chest. Yanks her hair to force her head up.

And not in a sexy way.

"Hey!"

If it's an impromptu lesson, this is bad timing. She had wanted to talk about some things. Needs to talk about some things. To see if he shares Cara's concerns.

"...he's not doing it."

Indeed. The kid is still just standing in the crib watching. He has even abandoned the railing in order to laugh at them.

"So?"

The Mandalorian releases her hair and reaches for his hip.

"Look, don't-"

He tightens his arm around her torso, making her huff out a breath. He gets the blaster free of its holster and shoves it roughly against her side.

Then stares at the kid.

"Merlp!"

Hanna knows the Mandalorian isn't going to shoot her, but she isn't comfortable all the same.

"Let go ... ...I said let go," she shoves at his arm when it slackens, then gives him a push for good measure. To make herself feel a little better. "What's your problem?!"

"Why didn't he stop me?"

Overall, that question feels very loaded. But she's not going to lean in that far.

"I don't know," she focuses on the current issue. "He's a kid ...he's inconsistent, if you hadn't noticed. Besides, why would he stop you doing anything you want? He trusts you."

The Mandalorian snorts.

"What?"

"I shot someone right in front of him," he throws a hand towards the door to emphasize what had happened out there. "He was covered in blood."

Like she needs a damn reminder of that.

"Yeah. You did. To save him."

The Mandalorian scoffs again.

"He couldn't possible understand that"

Excuse him? How many times have they discussed the kid's intuition? She thought they were on the same page with that.

"...you don't know that for sure."

"Come on!"

"What? You feed him and clean him and hold him ... ...you comfort and protect him. Of course he's going to trust you," Hanna holds her hands out in an innocent sort of way. "What do you expect?"

The Mandalorian grunts and for some time just stands and stares at the kid. The little guy gazes back, smiling and attempting to give a few little waves. The gestures aren't reciprocated, however.

.

Finally, he turns to stomp away.

"Where are you going?" Hanna starts when she realizes he's actually going to the door, not just his corner.

He doesn't answer.

By the time she reaches the doorway he's already down off of the porch and trudging past the first pond, cloak billowing behind him.

It all looks a little dramatic.

Maybe it is.

.

.

He's gone for the rest of the day. Hanna tries not to find that alarming, and for most of the time that's easy to do. The weather is fine so there is plenty going on. The kids play while Hanna lingers nearby with Omera. Finally, she's learning some of the weaving business because the new supplies are in.

Omera and the others working with them make the work look simple and mindless since they are so practiced, but it takes a lot of Hanna's focus. Is frustrating to keep starting over, but at least it's time consuming and they are patient with her.

So the afternoon and evening pass quickly even with a nagging in the very back of her mind. She's sure the Mandalorian would tell her not to worry about him - of all people - but he is hyper-confident to the point of reckless so she's a little concerned, anyway.

.

Especially once night has fallen and the kid's asleep. Then there's less to do and Hanna has more space in her head to think about everything.

Everything he'd done - rude, by the way - and said.

He's freaking out.

And not just about the kid's move against Cara. About what he hasn't done. About being trusted by the kid.

At least when he doubts Hanna she can argue him down. Explain herself. The kid ...he's more of an unknown for obvious reasons. The Mandlaorian can project whatever anger or doubt he wants onto the little guy.

She's not sure just what she should do about that. Maybe nothing. Maybe it's something he needs to work out on his own. And maybe that's exactly what he's doing right now.

Panic stabs her for a moment - maybe even two - when she entertains the thought that he's left. As in gone gone. Flown off because the kid and his powers and all of it is too much.

But his things are still here.

It's a comfort to quell the bubbling nausea that had come with the feeling of abandonment.

.

With that small comfort, she is eventually able to drift to sleep.

Slow.

A little fitful.

But cozy curled under her blankets.

.

Right up until the thin mat of the cot sinks behind her.

Her body tilts back enough to rouse her, at which point Hanna also notices pressure on her waist. She inhales sharp and starts to pull herself towards the edge of the bed, but the warm pressure curls around her hip.

"It's me"

She knows the voice... though only barely.

It's the Mandalorian, but his voice is entirely unencumbered. No mask or modulator

Hanna freezes because she no longer needs to flee and also because she's not sure what the kriff to do.

"Are you-!" her voice is higher than it has any need to be, but. Still.

"It's fine"

Uh. Since when?

The Mandalorian curls himself securely around her.

"Just keep facing the wall..."

Yes, she knows that much.

"Okay... ..." Hanna tries to relax.

The way he rubs his wide hand over her hip helps her to do so. Smoothing from her waist down her upper leg and then up again. Back and forth.

"I was in bed, but..."

But what? But he's gone mad instead? Cool, cool, cool.

"He shouldn't trust me," he asserts when he goes on again.

Hanna sighs.

"...like I shouldn't?"

"Maybe"

And yet Hanna has to wonder if he truly believes that. After all, it's not as if he is over here acting like any sort of deterrent.

"Well...I've told you what I think about that," Hanna reminds him and catches his roaming hand to give it a squeeze. "You don't get to decide for me."

The arm around her slips up her waist and tightens. The Mandalorian presses his nose into her hair, inhaling deep.

"The child makes no sense," he argues on stubbornly. "He needs to learn better..."

Hanna hears him just fine, but she's distracted with the job of comparing his voice now that she hears him with no helmet. It's still low. Still raspy. But a little less of both.

"Well, it's not like you can reason with him. He just ...knows."

Hanna may not have many facts on the kid, but she knows that much is true. He's frail and he's strong. He can't talk, but he can make himself known. He might not have a vocabulary, but he understands who and what people are.

One way or another.

"He doesn't know," he Mandalorian insists and traces his fingers over her stomach.

"...he knows enough."

All he does then is grumble.

"And I think you know it, too..."

He goes very still behind her. His hand flattens out on her middle and presses down in a would-be stifling way.

"What?" Hanna forces herself to resist turning to look over her shoulder. "Didn't you say that your people take in kids? I've kind of been thinking that's what drew you to him in the first place..."

He grumbles a little more under his breath and then huffs hard enough to ruffle her hair.

"I stand by what I said"

Eh. Sure. That tracks.

"Yeah, well ...I guess you wouldn't be you if you didn't."

He sighs but doesn't seem to be offended by the words. Just resumes stroking her, rubbing a path over her clothing from ribcage to hip and then back.

.

Hanna could argue more, but she doesn't think she'll actually convince him of anything on the matter. She also doesn't feel as worried now as before. He is back, and he'll figure it out. For now, he keeps himself curled close so he can hide his face behind her. She is curious, naturally, but isn't inclined to turn around. She just cuddles in to get comfortable.

In doing so, she can feel his crotch against her ass. Can tell that he's not entirely unaffected by being squeezed so close against her. Hanna grins into the dark and frees a hand to reach behind her.

The Mandalorian captures her wrist and brings it slowly back in front of her to tuck against her chest.

"I didn't come over here with ulterior motives," his breath swims over her ear and she shudders. Wants to feel that again.

"I didn't say that you did..."

But since when have distractions been unwelcome?

She waits to see if he changes his mind, but he remains where he is pressed up behind her with her hand tucked in his. Part of her finds that to be a let down, but she is grinning fresh anyway.

.

.

When Hanna wakes in the morning it's because her covers are being tugged. Then a familiar, squeaky burble invades her ears.

It's a common way to wake up.

Less familiar is the weight around her and the stiffness in her hips from not moving for hours...

Then she remembers the Mandalorian!

Not that she forgets him -impossible! - but this is not where he generally wakes up.

Hanna's eyes snap open in surprise to see the kid has managed to crawl up near her waist. She frees a hand from her blanket to push his head down so he can't see the man behind her. He squeaks in dismay when he face-plants against the cot.

She feels a little bad for it, to be honest.

Even more so when she hears a chuckle behind her.

"He's fine," the sound of the Mandalorian's voice is filtered in the way she is accustomed to.

In a way it's a disappointment... but at least she doesn't have to worry.

"Very sneaky," she wonders at what point he'd put the helmet back on.

He gives nothing away but begins to trace her waist while she lets the kid up.

The little one pouts and wiggles his claws at her in annoyance once he shuffles back to his feet. Even so, he doesn't run away when she tickles his chin. He just preens happily.

"Good morning," she greets both of her companions.

The kid interprets this to mean him only, and he chirps back at her. The Mandalorian stays quiet but pauses to squeeze her hip before resuming rubbing her side.

The baby watches the progression of his hand up and down Hanna's side and leaps at the fingers when they drift by him. He grabs a digit in each hand and leans against Hanna's stomach to keep hold when the hand keeps moving. The Mandalorian doesn't offer any admonishment, but he does wiggle free of the kid's grasp and shifts carefully onto his back.

Away.

There's a little less room in Hanna's cot than his, but he makes it work.

"So ...should I keep him over here?" Hanna checks when the kid starts attempting to summit her torso to get after the man.

"... ...no," he elects at length.

Once he decides, he reaches over Hannah to pluck the kid up and deposit the squirmy little guy on his own chest. She grins to herself and rests her eyes again wondering if she'll be able to get back to sleep with him occupying the kid.

But then he starts speaking quietly in Mando'a.

She can't help peeking over her shoulder to watch. There, the kid sits splayed-leg on the Mandalorian's ribs, and he's staring with rapt attention like he's being told a harrowing story.

And maybe he is.

Hanna returns to her pillow and listens to the low speech. It's even and low enough to be soothing rather than inhibit her ability to rest.

The quiet noise and the memory of the Mandalorian's breath in her hair is enough to help her drift off.

.

.

Hanna wakes up alone when she next opens her eyes.

That suggests there's no more time for lolly-gagging, so this time she gets out of bed and dresses properly.

Outside, the Mandalorian is sitting on one of the porch chairs watching Winta, Millie, and some boys playing with the kid between two of the closer ponds. His feet are kicked up on a nearby crate, his hands folded in his lap looking languid and peaceful.

"Winta brought you tea," he ticks his head towards the door when she enters the doorway. "It might be cold already..."

She finds the mug by the door and snatches it to take a sip. Finds it palatable; she'll just need to drink it quickly.

"Thanks for letting me sleep"

"Mm," he frees a hand to brush his fingers over the back of her knee when she draws nearer, then tucks it right back where it had come from in his lap.

"Did Millie ask you to play?" Hanna smirks and takes a long drink of the tea.

"No," his answer is even as if he's unbothered. "She did tell me Cara approves of my advice. About the kicking..."

"The validation you wanted, I'm sure"

He snorts behind his mask.

Even despite their conversation, Hanna notes that he hasn't stopped watching the children. Clocking their every move, she's sure.

"...what did you talk to him about? When he was sitting with you?"

He does look away and turn his gaze fully up at her, then.

"I know. I'm nosey. You don't have to s-"

"Rules. Lessons," he shrugs like this is nothing and turns back to his overseeing of the activities out in front of the barn.

.

Hanna studies him and wonders whether this is how Foundlings are treated: allowed to play but monitored and taught all the while. She thinks about what Cara had said about the need to do something formal with the kid.

Has to wonder whether the Mandalorian already is.