Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were were and no disrespect is intended with this fic.



Like the Last Time
by Stef


Tycho Celchu, Captain of the New Repulic, second-in-command of Rogue Squadron wandered through the corridor that housed the pilots' quarters. He stopped at one of the doors, and pressed the buzzer.

It was answered by a long-haired brunette, who appeared to have too much unspent energy. "Captain?" she inquired.

"Hey, Inyri," he said. "Is Lieutenant Kilmartin here? She was finishing some reports for me."

"Of course I'm here? Where else would I be?" Sara Kilmartin said, holding out a stack of datacards. "All finished. I'm particularly proud of the top one, Captain," she said smiling broadly. Her short crop of light brown hair was pinned back out of her eyes, and her flightsuit hung around her waist. Not the standard New Republic bright orange, it was the black and silver of the Sarekan Aerial Military division, special forces.

"Thanks," he said taking the datacards she offered to him. "Maybe I should get you to write up reports more often. Lieutenant. You're a lot quicker at it than anyone else around here."

She flashed him a wide smile - a smile that had only just returned after the weeks following her attack on Coruscant. "That's because I have better things to do than sit around moaning about reports that need to be written up, sir."

"Right." He turned around to leave, saying, "Thanks again," then walking back the way he had come. He shook his head.




When the door to their room hissed closed, Sara flopped back onto the cot serving as her bed.

Inyri Forge stared at her roommate.

"What?" she asked.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, Inyri asked her, "Were you just flirting with him?"

"No."

"Yes, you were."

"I wasn't!"

"Oh, of course you weren't." Inyri came and sat in front of Sara on her bed.

While Sara started braiding her roommates hair, she sighed. "Okay, so I was. Who cares? Nothing's going to happen. I think he was a little oblivious, Inyri."

"Which is why he flirted back."

"What!"

"You heard me." She smiled. "So, any particular reason you were writing reports for Tycho Celchu, New Repulic hero?"

Sara shrugged. "One of them was a self-evaluation thing. Something to do with... with what happened." She grew silent for a long moment. "The others were just standard reports for command."

"That doesn't explain why you actually did them."

Behind Inyri, Sara rolled her eyes. Both heard a beeping sound.

Inyri asked, "Yours or mine?"

"Yours."

"Damn." As Sara finished the braid, Inyri stood, found her comlink and answered. Looking at Sara, she rolled her eyes. Finally, she put it away. "I gotta go. Something about a simulator." She grabbed up the things she would need, and headed out the door. "Oh, and in case I don't see you later, you have the place to yourself tonight."

Sara shook her head. "Do I want to know?"

"No." She was gone.

Still shaking her head, Sara pulled on a long-sleeved top over the singlet top she wore underneath her flightsuit. I might as well get something to eat, she thought. At least there'll be company in the mess.

Correct on the last count, she seated herself down next to Wes, her wingman, at the table with Gavin and Asyr. At another table close by, Wedge Antilles and Tycho were engaged in what appeared to be a deep conversation.

"Do you always walk around dressed like that?" Wes asked her.

"Huh?" she asked, not understanding what he meant. He pointed to where her flightsuit was tied around her waist by the sleeves. "Oh. Sorry. It's an old habit from Sarek."

Wes looked expectantly at her.

"What? If I dressed exactly like I dress like on Sarek I'd probably be court martialed." She rolled her eyes, and looked at the other two pilots. "Would either of you like this idiot for your wing?" she joked.

Wes pretended to be hurt, while the other laughed. It didn't go overly well, especially when he couldn't keep the wicked grin off his face.

Noticing, Sara asked, "What's the grin for?"

"I'm just imagining what the clothing must look like, if it would get you court martialed." He sighed and looked dreamily. It was now a running joke among the Rogues to see if Wes (the Ladies Man) could get anywhere with his wingmate. So far, he had been a spectacular failure.

Sara cuffed him across the back of his head. Then she became serious. "Out of curiosity, does anyone know who Inyri is seeing?"

Asyr and Gavin shook their heads, but Wes' grin had returned.

"Thank you, Wes. That's all I needed to know," she told him.

"Happy to be of service," he said, raising his glass to Asyr and Gavin as they excused themselves. "Now, why?"

Venturing a look in the direction of the commander and Tycho, she said, "Oh, no reason. I just have the place to myself tonight. Again. I wanted to know where she was in case I needed to explain her absence."

"Would you like me to come and keep you company?"

"Wes, I love you for your piloting skills, not for your bedroom skills. Don't you have a girlfriend running around somewhere on this base?"

Pretending to deflate, Wes replied, "That cuts deep, Sara. Really, it does."

Laughing, Sara listened to him mope about the latest loss of the object of his admiration.




That night, after using the 'fresher, Sara climbed into her night pants and a singlet top that she wore to bed, and towel dried her short hair. When she'd finished, she opened the suitcase that housed her personal belongings that she had brought with her from Sarek. She picked up a rather old book - they still existed as print on paper on Sarek, despite the introduction of datapads and holorecorders. Settling into one of the chairs in the room, she curled up and began to read.

She lost track of time, and was a few chapters into the book when a buzzing sound cut through the silence. It took her a moment to gather her wits enough to realise that it was the door ringing. Groggily, she stood, and walked over to open the door.

There stood Tycho Celchu. Smiling.

Or rather, smirking.

"You going to invite me in?"

"Depends." She returned his smirk, and his own faltered slightly. "Is it going to play out the same way it does every time you knock on my door?" He stared at her, and she sighed, letting him through. "Inyri suspects that this is going to happen, you know?"

His only response was a slow, deep kiss that melted her insides. Only slightly taller than the Sarekan woman, Tycho didn't have to bend far to kiss her, and his hand cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet his. Her arms snaked around his neck, and he moved his around her waist. For a few long moments they stood there, like that, lost in their kiss.

When it ended, Sara leaned her head against his shoulder. "I am going to get into so much trouble for this," she muttered. He chuckled into her hair, sending shivers through her body.

"You were the one who wanted to keep it a secret," he reminded her.

"Well, yeah. First of all, we meet, and we sleep together. The next day I get transfered to a squadron which has you as the second-in-command," she laughed into his shoulder.

He sat down in the chair that she had been using minutes earlier, pulling her into his lap. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you."

"You had a heart attack?"

"Oh, well, at least this time I'm not half-drunk," he offered. She looked at him to see if he was serious.

"You weren't half-drunk!" she told him.

"Of course I wasn't. If I had been, I wouldn't remember that you're ticklish." He started to tickle her sides, as she frantically tried to scramble out of his lap. She succeeded only in hitting the floor. In an instant he was wrestling with her, while she giggled as he found where she was most ticklish.

"Stop it! Tycho!" She tried to roll over, but her pinned her hands above her head. "No fair. You had the advantage!" she accused him.

His cool, blue eyes locked on her violet-blue eyes, and he leant down and kissed her on the nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, and he began kissing the side of her neck. She shied away as he kissed a ticklish spot underneath her chin.

Managing to get one hand free, she caressed the side of his face, placing a lock of his hair behind his ear, before guiding his face to hers. Kissing his mouth first, she sucked his lower lip for a moment, before effectively switching their positions. He lay beneath her, and she effieciently removed his top, running her hands along the smooth skin on his chest.

"Domineering, aren't we?" he teased her, as she placed butterfly kisses across his chest. Their eyes locked once more, and she climbed off him.

Sitting up, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, and she didn't resist. Once more they fell into a passionate kiss - both careless and reckless. He picked her up as he rose from the floor, and carried her to her bed. "Lieutenant, you're wearing far too much clothing - compared to myself, of course," he told her, his voice husky.

"Of course," she replied. As he lifted her top, she raised her arms, and he pulled it off completely. Then she pulled him on top of her, their naked skin touching. As he continued placing soft kisses all over her neck, and now her exposed chest, she felt his erection against her stomach.

Working her hand inside his loose fitting pants, she began stroking his shaft with a slow, deliberate motion. He moaned into her chest. She pulled his face towards her own once more, seeing the agony of pleasure plastered across his features. She stopped stroking him, causing him to complain in her mouth.

Withdrawing from the kiss, she said, "Patience and all things." She removed his pants and then her own. Starting to slide her panties down, he stopped her. She laughed as he tried to remove them with his teeth. He looked up at her annoyed.

"I'm glad you find this funny."

Pulling him back up towards her, her fingers caught hold of his erection once more, and she rebegan her sublime torture. Soon, his hips began bucking in time with her strokes.

"I don't think this is fair on you," he whispered in her ear, then covered it with feather-light kisses. Having completely resigned the idea of removing her panties with his teeth, he settled for removing them the traditional way. He slid two fingers across her opening, and she moaned softly.

Feeling himself nearing his peak, he pulled her hand from his shaft, and kissed her stomach, his fingers still playing across her already wet opening. He moved his way up her body, until his kisses were back on her mouth, before asking her, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, unable to speak. The look in her eyes was pure desire, and it matched his own. She wrapped her legs around his waist and slowly he entered her, always watching her face. Her eyes closed in pleasure as he fully penetrated her. Slowly, he began to move in and out. Her face was a mask of silent ecstacy, as she began to meet his thrusts. As she felt herself reach her peak, she pulled his face down, and moaned into his mouth, and he quickly followed her over the edge. They both collapsed, bodies still entwined.

Disentangling themselves, they found a comfortable position, holding each other, falling asleep in each other's arms.


Finis


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