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[personal profile] catlinyemaker

Adiira gave up on sleep, again, and went to the shipboard storeroom. She unracked the training armor and blade and began her practice. 2 am wasn’t the usual time, but it would serve to distract her. There had been great need for distractions since that single kiss (‘Months ago!’ a corner of her mind cried. ‘Weeks, merely,’ she thought wryly.)

“I’m in no rush, Quinn.” Not a lie, exactly, but the response honor demanded, to give him time and grace to accept their mutual interest or deny it with the bulwark of his military training. She would not force anyone, not when she had the choice. ‘It certainly enhances command of the Force, all this sexual frustration,’ she thought, grimly amused.

Of course that led to more power, which led to more awareness. She could now sense people at greater distance, read them more clearly... there was Vette, cool shades of concentration, tinkering at something on the engine room console... there was Quinn, hot emotion in the grip of some dream, tossing in his bunk… Adiira wrenched her attention away and turned to the kata again, channeling everything into her dance with the blade.


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