that time they were undercover married

[notallofus]

So imagine there's a woman. You love her, and you want her, and you're partners in everything, and there's very little you hide anymore, and it's good that way, the greatest, but you're not . . . You're not together. Like that.

Now imagine that there's a mission, and it involves a sudden opening in someone's social calendar, and this opening involves a fancy party for married couples where lips are guaranteed to be loose, wine and spice flow like rain, and some very valuable materials and information will be less guarded for six hours than they ever will be again.

Imagine that the person who provided the opening is a Twi'lek, and she has a husband, and it's their slots that someone has to be prepared to take at this shindig.

"I think whoever made these pants cut them a little too tight."

Uh.

"My dear."

Comments

[for_everyone]

The Moff looks back to Kanan, and smiles, a sudden sharp movement that cuts across his face.

"Of that you can be rest assured."

Before another word is spoke, there's a commotion near the doors. A very elaborately dressed couple, who must be a king and queen of some planet or other, have entered the party. Their tall silver costumes, weaving around them like cocoons, glitter under the party lights, and many other attendees begin to head in their direction.

Including, apparently, Moff Laval. He lifts his glass to Hera and Kanan. "Until later."

Hera watches him as he leaves, leaning back into Kanan's arm. "That's someone to drop by later."

Maybe after he's had a few more drinks, at least.

[notallofus]

Kanan nods, watching the Moff go for a moment, then turning to look at other party guests.

"Yeah, he seems like the kind of guy with something to say."

He shifts a little, resting his free hand on top of hers for a second.

"You'll tell me if I come on too -- if I'm too defensive, right?"

The way these Imps treat Twi'leks is already wearing on his nerves and they've been here less than an hour. He doesn't want to break their cover. (Break some faces, yes, maybe. But not their cover.)

[for_everyone]

"Just keep playing the trophy husband, dear," she says, reaching up to playfully flick his beard.

"You're doing fine."

[notallofus]

Kanan only wishes his sudden blush were acting.

Ah, well.

"Right. I can do that. Yes."

[for_everyone]

"In the meantime..."

Hera's eyes flicker once around the room, before she looks down again, lifting her glass. She's still leaning into Kanan's shoulder.

"The ISB agent by the holosculpture? More art you can criticize."

[notallofus]

"Oh good. My favorite pastime."

His voice is only a little dry.

"You ready?"

He's trying to muster his own gumption just now.

"I think I'm going to go with color criticism this time. Such a monotone palette."

[for_everyone]

Hera finally lifts herself from his shoulder, smiling up at him for a moment. And then she starts leading the way toward the slowly rotating sculpture. It's indeed a monotone gray, a rough-hewn figure of a human man, a minuscule spiral of stars glittering between his hands.

"That's Imperial taste for you," she agrees.

[notallofus]

Kanan grimaces, only a little theatrically.

"Quick, let's do this before I lose the two sips of drink I've had."

[for_everyone]

"Maybe we can find a real plant."

Or some other way to surreptitiously dumping their drinks. Hera has no interest in more than a couple sips of wine while in a room full of Imperials.

Still, she smiles at him again, eyes lingering for a few seconds. But then she blinks a few times, and glances away again, back to their ISB agent.

[notallofus]

"I'm also not letting myself be seduced. Just so you know."

Because of all those people having affairs with ISB agents. Or rumored to be, anyway.

"Right. Here we go."

[for_everyone]

Hera can't shove him for that now. She'll have to do it later.

As it is, she puts on a vapid smile, and flickers her eyes from the agent, to the sculpture, and the stars in its hands.