Chapter Text
You hadn’t expected the night to go this way. You really hadn’t even planned to be here in the first place. Your boyfriend had managed to drag you to one of the local clubs even after weeks of shutting him down. He knew you didn’t like clubs. You could never really get used to the idea of partying with complete strangers, all mostly drunk off of their asses. And you didn’t even want to get started on the state of the popular location he had taken you to. It was a mix between a cantina and a club, making it the perfect spot to meet others who just wanted some fun. Not ideally the place for someone who was already in a committed relationship. No matter how much you had tried to prove that to him, he hadn’t budged and told you he couldn’t abandon his guys.
So instead, he abandoned you, leaving you stranded at the bar, sitting alone nursing on your hour-old spotchka. You watched him from the sidelines as he danced along with a large group of people, letting himself hang loose as if you weren’t even there. He laughed and joked with a couple of his ‘guys’ and eventually spared you a passing glance, not an ounce of remorse behind his eyes. It made you sick to your stomach. It made your insides churn, and your blood boil. You wanted to just walk out of the door, but he was your only ride home, even if you’d be the one driving the speeder home tonight.
He wasn’t always like this . Months ago, you had found yourself falling in love with the very man that was acting as if you weren’t even in the room. He had made himself so comfortable and open as he strayed further toward the group of bodies out on the dance floor. You didn’t even know why you were still with him. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, you were scared to leave him. You were scared of being alone. Yeah, his presence was irritating most times ever since he started to change, but you would rather be with him than be alone. You had been alone since you could remember, and, quite frankly, having someone other than your pet tooka in your life felt kinda nice. In the rare moments when he did pay you some sort of attention, you felt your nerves melt away and your stress pop like bubbles.
But..thinking about it now, the last time you had felt that way had been about two months prior when he had gotten a promotion and wanted to celebrate. You remember dancing with him in the kitchen of your apartment while you cooked dinner. He had been so caring that night, generous and attentive as he had told you he would be more busy following his promotion.
The following week, he had stumbled into your apartment using his emergency key, the smell of musk and alcohol trailing from him, and if you were being honest, the scent of another woman’s perfume that was way too potent to be your own. You hadn’t said anything to him about it, helping his drunk self off to get clean and into bed. Night after night, you lay awake in bed thinking about the situation, and slowly but surely, he drifted. He went out more with his buddies and canceled plans with you.
Which led you to be stuck in this cramped excuse for a club.
Shoving your thoughts down, you turned back to face away from the dance floor and took a swig to finish off your spotchka. Setting the glass down, you raised your hand to motion the bartender for another. You stared down at your reflection in the empty glass, brushing a small strand of hair away from your face. You tried to look good tonight. You wanted to make your boyfriend fall back in love with you.
So, you wore one of your best outfits out to this dinghy club hoping you could maybe change his mind. Hoping he’d actually stay with you throughout the night. Though, your plan didn’t work as expected. The black blouse and silver shifting pencil skirt you picked out specifically for this night didn’t seem to catch his fancy, even with your most ‘attractive’ areas on full display. The outfit had only managed to keep his attention for the first 15 minutes of the night before he wandered off and left you to your own devices, sitting alone at the bar.
The bartender had long since slid you your renewed glass and as you went to take a swig, your throat tightened on instinct as you heard all too familiar footsteps make their way toward you, staggering and sloppy.
“Baaabbeee—“ Your boyfriend’s voice trailed behind you sending a shiver down your spine as he tried to gussy you up with the nickname and the disgustingly fake sweetness in his voice. You didn’t say a word, just tilting your head a bit and raising your eyebrows to tell him you were listening to what he had to say.
“Order me a drink, will ya? I’ll pay ya back, promise,” He said, though not yet slurring his words, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You let out a tight sigh and paid for whatever he told the bartender he wanted. You were too frustrated to listen as you slapped down the credits to cover his ridiculously expensive drink. “When can we lea-”
“Mmm- thanks”, He barely let out, cutting you off as he gripped your right thigh with a scary strength, pinning you in place as he looked at you for a beat, then decided to walk back toward the crowd.
‘Yeah, sure, you’ll pay me back.’ Your thoughts rang through your head.
After getting bored of twiddling your thumbs, you eventually pulled out your holopad and just scrolled through whatever article you could find to distract yourself. From planet descriptions to mechanic guides, you read whatever you could while nursing your second drink of the night, not wanting to even think about how many your boyfriend had downed. You would bet your entire pouch of credits that he was off flirting with another woman while his buddies cheered him on. Three months ago, you would’ve scoped this whole place to find him and make sure he wasn’t. But now? You were just tired. You wanted to go home, or, stars, anywhere else but this place. You felt like the entire room of people had it out for you, yet, at the same time, like everyone in the room couldn’t care if you were shot dead on the spot.
Little to your knowledge, you had a secret admirer watching you from the dark corner.
Glued to your holopad, you scrolled through another article about older ships and the differences in hyperdrives compared to more modern-class shuttles. You figured now would be a better time than never to do some little research. That’s when he approached, and you had heard the admirer before anything else.
“You a mechanic?”
The voice sounded to your right, rich and deep like molasses— yet slightly muffled as if being covered by something. You jumped a bit as you whipped your head around to find the source of the sound, only to find a tall man clad in chrome beskar armor. Eyes darting to the signature ‘T’ visor, your mind immediately went to recognize this being as a bounty hunter. Your body went cold at the thought, suddenly seeming to bring up old memories that might’ve gotten you into trouble— hence why this Mandalorian would be standing in front of you. The files of memory in your brain went blank as you tried to think of something, anything, that would’ve gotten you in such deep bantha shit to have a kriffing Mandalorian walk up to you.
His helm tilted down toward you, waiting, and as if on cue, you realized you were staring and glanced back to your holopad, then back to him. “Oh! Right- uh no, I uh-“ You fumbled over your words, feeling puny under his gaze, even though he had said not another word after his initial question. You paced yourself for a moment before continuing. “I fiddle on the side— but I’m a medic mainstream.” You cleared your throat and turned just the slightest bit toward the bar.
The Mandalorian nodded before taking the open seat to your right as if your response was an invitation to further conversation. You were tense, for fair reasons, though. You had no idea if this guy was hunting you down for a bounty or actually trying to be friendly. Trying to appear more relaxed, you forced your shoulders down and threw up a tight smile. “Are you any good?“ He questioned, his helm never leaving your form. You squirmed under his gaze and cleared your throat.
“Being a medic or mechanic-?” You asked, almost afraid at first, not wanting to seem ignorant.
“Both.”
The response was so simple to your question, yet it was hard to answer. As the music in the background was drowned out from your ears, your attention drew back to your holopad, unable to hold the bounty hunter’s eyesight without squirming nervously.
“I mean- I’d like to say I’m good at both, but I just chose to be a medic over everything else.” You answered honestly and missed the way the Mandalorian’s helmet tilted towards your frame at your answer.
Taking another drink of your spotchka, you kept your eyes averted towards your holopad, sneaking small glances toward the man who sat right next to you as if you hadn’t just met. You would almost feel as if you were being interrogated if he wasn't sitting next to you asking you the most ordinary, boring conversation starter questions. He seemed relaxed yet alert as you watched the tension rise in his shoulders every time someone moved past him or the bartender across from both of you moved too quickly. Although one hand was leaning against the bar, the other always seemed to linger close toward whatever weapon lay near his hip. ‘ Prepared’ was the only word that came to mind.
“So what brings a medic to a place like this?” His question had caught you off guard, your fingers stilling around your drink before you released it and pulled both hands into your lap. Your eyes darted to his visor, almost trying to find his own set of eyes under the dark film. After a spell, you turned back to look at the crowd, searching for someone .
“My uh- my boyfriend brought me here.”
“And he’s not with you?”
The Mandalorian once again caught you off guard. He was so quick with his responses, but the faster he asked the more sense they made to you. You weren’t sure what to reply with other than a shrug of your shoulders.
“He’s having his fun. And so am I.” You replied with a soft sigh, turning back to look at your holopad as you scrolled a bit to emphasize your idea of ‘fun.’ At least for this particular occasion, it was.
The Mandalorian hummed in response, his helm tilting once more to take in your appearance and how your eyes glossed over in almost a sense of regret when you spoke about your boyfriend. Your body slacked, and your skin paled in comparison to when he first saw you across the club. When he spotted you earlier that night, your eyes were darting around the room, almost as if you were searching for a distraction. He found himself captivated by you even if he knew you had to be here with someone, but whenever you ended up all alone, he took his chance to step in and let his curiosity get the better of him. Because to him, no woman as beautiful as you are would dress the way you have dressed tonight to come to the club, sit at the bar, and read.
“I don’t mean to sound offensive, but do you usually dress up to come and read here?” He said with a slight tone of humor in his voice, hoping to crack whatever tension was built between the two of you. His shoulders relaxed for a spell when the corner of your mouth quirked up, and you let out a breathy giggle.
“No, no, I don’t. I guess I just wanted to look nice tonight.” You responded, turning your eyes away from your holopad and back to the man sitting next to you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him even the slightest bit attractive, even all clad in his gear and his entire form wholly covered. There was something to respect there, wanting to be friendly even when people fear just looking at you.
“Why aren’t you out on the dance floor with your boyfriend?”
Again. Another question to throw you off track. This man really did have a special way with words, didn’t he? You cleared your throat and adjusted yourself in your seat, your smile now long gone. Glossy eyes drifted over the crowd as you spotted him dancing with his buddies and another woman as if you weren’t just across the club. The Mandalorian’s gaze followed your’s and his body tensed just the slightest bit.
“I see.” Was all he said before turning back to you. His head tilted again, reaching out for the first time, letting his knuckle tap twice on your clothed knee, pulling his touch away once he regained your attention.
“I uh- I never caught your name.” You blurted out, wanting to change the subject. As if to push the idea across, you gave him your name, earning a slight head nod in response.
“Just call me Mando.”
“Okay, Mando. Well…I answered your questions. How about you answer some of mine?” You said with a soft smile, some form of confidence returning as you pulled your gaze toward him, then back to the bar ever so often as nerves bundled underneath your skin.
You heard a soft chuckle come from him before he answered, “What questions do you have for me, Mesh’la ?”