Either I'm gonna kill him or I'm beginning to like him.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Everything was bullshit and horrible and the worst. T'yeellaa's ears drooped low in culinary mourning, stepping away aimlessly as she only distantly heard Dage's conciliatory offer of neon nightmare kibble.

And it wasn't just the waste of twenty credits. Well that was bad, certainly. It's not like she could go and kvetch to get her money back. The trouble with live food was that sometimes...it got away. Act of Goddess. And the kind of person who tried to get their money back that way was no better than the the person who went to a restaurant, ate three fourths of a swine hock, then asked for a refund due to it not being fresh. T'yeellaa Meorrrei was thrifty. She wasn't cheap.

Her stomach wailed a loud agonizing dirge, nearly collapsing the defeated Cizerack in misery as she slowly smoothed over her jacket and began the process of buttoning it up once more.

"Put on jyourr coat," she spoke low and stoic, like a defeated soldier who at least had her dignity, "we arre gojing out to eat."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa closed the current entry, reflecting back on that day. He'd made her so mad that she barely ate anything at all, got a headache, and decided to cocoon herself in a blanket for the rest of the night on the bed with Holoflix at full volume.

The next morning she'd woken up to find a cage with two kalloo-walos at the door to her bedroom next to a single serving bottle of Pai Leeha, and a handwritten note that said he'd be back at 20:00 hours, and to make sure she'd tended to the mess. It wasn't an apology, as he never apologized for acts of minor mayhem.

But it was very, very sweet.

T'yeellaa scrolled further down the list of diary entries, sipping at her steamed drink until she found another fitting entry to reflect on.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

They had sleep rituals. There was nothing in writing or otherwise codified, but with Dage's ship sharing a home port out of Jovan for the forseeable future, they could rely on at least a week or two out of each month in which he'd be home. And if his cruiser was docked, then he was staying here.

On most days, she pulled a shift longer than she anticipated holding down, and wanted nothing more than to go straight to bed. On the better days, she went home exactly when she planned to, and had the opportunity to burn up her remaining energy on Samus. I'll be home on time was the coded text message, which meant that ready or not, he had to be ready for the extracurriculars. Sometimes he'd dress up or down for the part, which made her after-work fun a little more so. One time he'd lounged on the couch wearing nothing but knee socks and a gift bow on his nethers. That one was her favorite. She also liked the one where he pretended to be a lost tourist, even going the distance to buy a basic phrase book and speaking in a bad broken accent. No matter what the game was, T'yeellaa rode Dage dirty in just about every part of her quarters that she could manage the leverage to do so. There was a saying amongst Cizeri men. Make sure you know how to clean house, because she will have had her way around every inch of it.

Good thing he had all that free time, waiting up on her.

But no matter how they came about it, every night they were in bed before 01:00, and well-and-truly knackered out. Samus slept on the side of the bed nearest the window, giving T'yeellaa the side closest to the door. His reasoning had less to do with having the starry view, but something about some kind of irrational anxiety about being nearest to the door in the event of a hostile boarding action. That was ridiculous and cute. She'd have to be his protector in the invent of resumption of Imperial hostilities, coming at the first stormtrooper through the door in a flurry of teeth and claws.

So he had his side, and she had hers. He slept in the nude, and she hogged the covers. These were the agreed upon rules without having to say so.

It should have been perfect. It was perfect, until it wasn't.

[Q. Samus Dage]

T'yeellaa was bounding toward him, her arms opening wide. She looked radiant, her slender body and glittering smile. Her wings, silky white as they unfurled into the air around her. They were so beautiful... She looked divine, with her tattered denims and an old shirt that he'd thrown away years ago. It of course was much too large on her frame, but somehow she made the ragged thing work. Faded Aurebesh, for some defunct Myomarian fast-credit express joint from back home; it made his grin only grow from ear to ear. She closed the distance, and with a flourish produced a box. The lid vanished into nothingness as a dozen donuts, each one with a twitching tail, came into glorious view.

She swept up into him, her wings surrounding his body as she held up a donut for him by the tail. He grinned like a madman, and pulling a packet of ketchup from a pocket, tore open one corner before carefully squeezing the condiment along the length of the pink-glazed, multi-colored sprinkled delight.

"Just right," he grinned.

T'yeellaa only smiled her wonderful smile as she lifted the donut high enough that he could slightly stoop, head angled to take a joyous bite.

It crunched once, then melted like a candy floss in his mouth.

Wonderful.

The rest of the tailed donuts was ignored then, as he swept close to her, arms going around her in an embrace that lifted her up. The feather of her wingtips tickled at the base of his back, her hands dropping the tasty donut morsel. It squeaked when it landed, and impossibly skittered across the deck of Jovan's command hub to seek shelter beneath a comm terminal.

Her hands wound past his shoulders to grip along his back.

"Kitten," his whisper was strained.

She paid no mind, instead pressing into him, pushing her body against his as her legs wound around his waist. She mouth-breathed into his ear, her nose damn near touching his brain it seemed, and another sharp grip on his back as her claws found purchase.





"Aaurgh!"

He was on his side, facing the star-filled window when the painful reality of claws in skin wrenched him from sleep. His back arched, reflexes moving once-dormant muscles into action. Samus rolled over in a small amount of desperation to escape, and ended up tumbling over the side of the bed to land in a disoriented pile grogginess and a lingering, very familiar sort of sting that now radiated from his upper back.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Mm?"

T'yeellaa's muss-haired head lifted from the pillow, eyes too stubborn to open from their sleepy rapture as she only half-listened to something Samus had said. Hands that were holding him a moment ago still remained in their places, claws out with fingers massaging the air.

[Q. Samus Dage]

One hand came up to haphazardly grip the edge of the mattress, pulling up the rest of him as his own askew-haired head appeared. Even in the dark, he had no wish to open his eyes, and crawling his way back onto the bed, Samus grumpily shifted the covers so that he had at least a small portion. He sidled his way closer into her personal sleeping space, sleep-addled brain knowing that at least he'd be okay doing that. He pushed her clawed fingertips away.

"hrnnggclawsssh," he groggily managed, brain desperately trying to bring back the delightful ketchup-donut-sexy-time dream he'd been ripped from.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Mmhmm." T'yeellaa droned in noncommittal stupor, never really roused from her sleep. The moment she felt the mattress shift from Samus's weight put upon it, muscle memory took over and she wormed her way closer again. Back in comfort. Back against his familiar body; his heat. T'yeellaa sighed contentedly as she stretched, draping her arms around him once again as she rumbled in a purr.

And once again, her happy fingers began making rhythmic kneading motions against his stomach. First just the fingertips...but then, with claws.

[Q. Samus Dage]

It seemed that the wondrous rapture of his dream was to never trulybe recaptures, as her fingers traveled over his midsection. He tensed on fresh instinct, and when the claws once more made themselves known...

"Kitten," his sleep-addled rebuke held little water. Not that he could command anything beyond a half-garbled response.

"Claws, Kitten," it only seemed to make the kneading worse, and his hands fumbled to grasp at her wrists.

"Claws... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's face scrunched in an unhappy expression. The ear she wasn't laying on flicked in displeasure at the wordless sounds of Samus's voice. His words began to chip away at the foggy armor of sleep surrounding her brain.

"Nooo..." she mumble-whined "...sstop...what arre jyou dojing..."

Claws that had been merely playing before now simply clamped fixed to the spot as T'yeellaa tensed in irritation.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Eyes going wide at her insistence on remaining attached, Samus gasped out a pained breath. His grip on her wrists tightened two-fold, yet he didn't exactly try to continue pulling her hands away as that would only make things... worse. His back already had a score of fresh cuts, including a few that'd been added to his chest from their activities earlier in the evening.

"T'yeellaa," he ground out, "... stop."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Ugh, what arre jyou dojing!"

T'yeellaa woke just enough for an indignant tantrum, kicking at her sheets as she disengaged her claws far enough to roll over in huffy protest to Samus's loud voice.

"jI'm trrjyjing to ssleep..." she grumbled.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Blessed relief!

He exhaled as she rolled away, shifting so that he could now lay on his back. Her brief fit of kicking dislodged her own deathgrip on the sheets enough that he could snag a bit for his own. It wasn't long before sleep took over once more, and Samus fell back into his dreams like a rock sinking into a lake.

All would've been right with the land of slumber... except for the slight, rhythmic sound of breathing that began quietly. It was soft at first, but as the minutes went by it grew in volume. And annoyance. Of course for him, it was an unknown. After all, the last time he'd been told his snoring was enough to wake ancient Sith Lords from their tombs had been when he and General Dan had long ago shared a tent during an offensive on Atravis decades ago.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

ghhhnnnnn...khhh...

ghhhnnnnnnnn...kakhhh...

T'yeellaa grimaced into her pillow, squirming as she clutched on it tighter and tighter. She was finally unable to lie to herself about still being asleep, cracking open a pair of bleary eyes as her raised right ear twitched again.

ghhhrruuuuhhhnnnnn...kahhh..khh..mhh...

The sleep-deprived Meorrrei elbowed her gai'tou in the side, using a little restraint initially. She didn't want to wake him, she just wanted his tonsil-strangling to stop

GHHHNNNNhhhhhhh...

Screw it. She gave him a shot to the ribs.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Gah!"

The shock of her jab was enough to partially rouse him, and Samus jerked to the side, away from her as a hand went to his side, fingers groggily massaging his tenderized ribs.

"Whyyy?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Rrroll overrr!" T'yeellaa growled in frustration, eyes fixed on the ceiling as she was now both wide awake and mad.

"Everrjy tjime jyou ssleep on jyourr back, jI sswearr! jYou'rre gojing to choke on jyourr tongue."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Says the woman that tried to choke me with hers," came the mumbled retort.

But, he at least shifted to his side, facing her as he drifted off once more.

His breathing leveled out into something much more manageable, until...

"nngggg... Kuh. nngggg... Kuuhh."

Silence...

"KUH..."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She tried to sleep, but there was a part in her brain that just knew better. Knew that even this little stop gap wouldn't be enough. Her eyes grew heavy again, but not before she heard his breathing begin to drag through the contours of his mouth. T'yeellaa's eyes were open once more, her face set in a weary sneer. Samus's breathing thickened like treacle until...

click

wheeze

click

Like Nautolan water torture, Samus's stubborn uvula kept time by snapping back and forth with each breath, each iteration driving her that much closer to a winnable justifiable homicide case. With a sigh like the locomotion motivator in an AT-AT, T'yeella carefully reached over to Samus's head, splayed her fingers, and extended her claws.

"Quentjin, turrn on jyourr sstomach orr jI sswearr to Traanjiirra's hellfjirre jyou wjill ssleep outssjide."

[Q. Samus Dage]

As if in a daze, the blonde obeyed. He gave no half-garbled protest or whine. Rather, he simply shifted his body so that he now lay on his stomach.

It was the miracle cure it seemed, as his breathing gave no more terrible protestations. Rather, with his head now turned away from her, his breaths came in shallow pulls, quiet and rhythmic.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

He rolled over without further protest, and T'yeellaa basked in the full minute of bliss that followed, wondering if she'd stumbled upon a Jedi persuasion technique. No fight, no fuss. Just him doing what was told.

She rolled back over, watching him sleep with a contented smile on her face. Shimmying against her partner once more, T'yeellaa draped an arm over his familiar contours as her heavy-lidded eyes closed in restful repose. Her tail looped over him, the tuft lazily marking time as she drifted into slumber.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

On the days Samus stayed with her, he usually slept late, and T'yeellaa performed her morning ritual while trying to be as quiet as possible.

Then, there were joint commands days.

On those days, it meant that not only were the senior staff of Jovan station up with the crowing nuna, but it also meant that every berthed starship was also reporting to Commander Akiena for his report to the Admiralty. That meant the Novgorod. It meant the Miidrrakoa. It meant Khera'va'ssio.

On those days, nobody's commands got to sleep in, and everybody was up early.

It also meant that it was the rare occasion that both T'yeellaa and Samus were awake and attempting to handle their morning routine while using the same sink, the same sonic shower, and the same privy. That required a bit of a dance. She showered, he shaved. She did her hair, he showered. He did his hair, she did her makeup. They brushed their teeth side-by-side.

So it was this morning, with the two officers standing shoulder-to-shoulder against each other, each with a mouth full of sonic toothbrush and foamy paste. It was a rare moment in which both of them weren't saying anything, and the stereo buzzing of sonic brushes brought a weird hypnotic sound as they completed their morning hygiene.

T'yeellaa snuck a glance up at her gai'tou, the toothpaste building at the corner of her mouth as she turned back to the mirror, not quite able to suppress a smile. Her tail moved in a gentle wave behind her. Then, as if the programming changed, it doubled back and low, finding the spot between Dage's legs where there was separation. The tail tuft shot the gap, running along his inner thigh as T'yeella worked her mischievous appendage upwards with a sudden motion.