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Bounty Hunter x Gault Rennow: Out of the Air Lock


EverSteam

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Female Bounty Hunter: Drama, romance, angst, Gault, one-shot

No spoilers.

Disclaimer: I don't own the game, characters, etc.

A different take on the Gault x Bounty Hunter relationship.

 

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'Take as long as you need.'

 

I take my time in going to him.

 

He strolled out of the room, a limp of pride and egotism in his swaggering stride. 'Just one more thing...' I pull him back with my grappling hook. His lips are firm. 'Don't cross me. Or you will regret it.'

 

'I'll be back before you know it.'

 

When he came back, I stayed in the cockpit. I liked to make him wait.

 

And I was a little surprised. I didn't except to see him back. Not that I let him know that. Whether it was from someone recognizing him, or too much credits and too much to drink, I thought it would keep him gone. I needed time to hide my surprise. I didn't want him to know I care.

 

Because that's not how this is.

 

I'm not supposed to care.

 

I remember when I allowed him to join our team. It wasn't professional. But I still let it happen.

 

I want to hate myself for it. But I can't.

Professionals should not make mistakes. Only credits.

 

'I'll leave you and "Gault" to get better acquainted. I'll meet you back on the ship.' Mako walked away purposefully for such a tiny, killik of a girl.

 

And we did get acquainted.

 

I don't know how it happened. But it did.

 

We had finished up on Tatooine. Bantering with each other for one corner of the Dune Sea and back. And back again. It was cool in the Cantina. Well, cooler than outside. Lokai was buying me a drink. A toast to our new partnership.

 

A sand storm came. We stayed in a cantina room together. We slept together.

 

A once off thing. A regular once off thing.

 

'Hey you're back -- and Tyresius is still alive. Guess you two were bonding huh?'

 

'The names Gault remember? Gault Rennow. And yes, we're getting along famously.' A smug smile moves the dark shadows on his face.

 

'Is that so?' Mako's well shaped eyebrows move into mountains of surprise. He casual glance at me is penetrating.

 

'For once he's telling the truth...'

 

'We'll see how long that lasts.' She smiles. The corners twitch into a smirk. I feel like the innocent girl is a mirage, and sometimes I want to see what I'm really looking at.

 

'Though I am thinking of pushing him out the air lock tomorrow.'

 

He was lounging, backward, on the bed downstairs. The door frame was cold steel, supporting my weight as I leant on it. My loose under shirt allows the reassuring cold to seep into me.

 

He sits up, complaints spilling from his mouth already. He was like that when we arrived.

 

But the chairs are never going to get upholstery. No matter how much he shakes his head, and mutters torrents of complaints. The windows will never have frilly curtains. And the bed will always be smooth, slippery still with a few blankets thrown on to make it look like there's a mattress. It won't change.

 

Yet here he is. Still 'slumming it'.

 

I won't change.

 

I shake my head. I know I should shoot his.

 

'What? No parade? Not even a cake. Not even a "good to see you" for the guy that's holding your share of the credits?'

 

'Sorry to disappoint. How about a drink instead?' I go to the bar across the way and start making a drink. He follows. Leaning against the door frame like I had.

 

'I suppose just this once.' It's amazing, how often something that happens only 'once' repeats. Again. And again. And again. And again.

 

The glass is cold and perspiring in my hands. I hold it out to him. He's quick to shoot an arm and try to take it. I'm quicker.

 

'First, 'grand master mind', where. are. my. credits?'

 

He reluctantly reaches into his pockets and pulls out some credits. I sneer at them and raise the glass to my lips.

 

His grimace shifts the red wrinkles that line his face. He reaches into his jacket. More come out. I take the credits and give him the drink. My hand is left wet and cold.

 

'Pretty good considering the expenses.' He moves to the couch. 'They just couldn't wait to get Tyresius Lokai off our hands.' He reclines on the couch. Red against a faded old green. I sit on the bar stool.

 

'I wish someone would come and get Gault off my hands.' I sneer at him.

 

His face twitches into false sadness. 'But my dear, I thought you liked me being in your hands.'

 

I snort and throw the bottle to him. My cup is empty again. I don't remember drinking it.

 

'So who wanted you so bad? Can't imagine your body would be worth that much without the inflated ego to keep it walking and talking.' I lightly mock him. He'd been gone for a while.

 

'It was a rouge's gallery. Lots of familiar faces. Brought back a lot of memories. Let me tell you.'

 

I let him talk. I grab bottles from the steel shelves and pour myself drink after drink. Gault drinks twice as much. I suddenly found myself on the couch. His body is icy and chills my skin. Mako returns sometime in his narration. She doesn't say hello. She stays up on deck and I can imagine her sitting, streaming the holonet. Listening for news of Tarro Blood. Or her family.

 

Glasses are spilt on the floor. Expensive ale wasted. We're on the table. And so the mistake happens again.

 

And again, I think I will push him out of the air lock in the morning.

 

Because this is only a once off thing.

 

----

Please comment. I greatly appreciate any feedback.

I know Gault isn't the 'romance' companion but sometimes it seems like there could have been a once off thing.

 

Please read my other (superior) one shots if enjoyed this one.

 

Sith Warrior: http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=512475

Female Sith warrior and Malavai Quinn (not a fluff or erotica): http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=483407

Female smuggler and Corso Riggs (romance): http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=481830

Edited by EverSteam
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