Pet Names

Hun

    Imogen couldn't stop staring.
    "Imogen," she hummed at the voice, not tearing her eyes from the thing that had caught her attention. "Imogen!"
    "Yes?" she asked, still not looking at the Rodian who sat next to her at the bar.
    "IMOGEN WILL YOU STOP STARING?!" he finally placed a hand on her shoulder to jostle her, and Imogen pouted as she finally turned her attention to him, neck tilting up so she could meet his eyes.
    "But Aler!" she whined, said Rodian's eyes narrowing slightly. "That is the most adorable creature I've ever seen!" she protested, going to look back but Aler grabbed her face and forcefully turned it back to her drink. She missed the way the Mandalorian's helmet tilted slightly, the man underneath hearing every part of this interaction.
    "And you haven't noticed the fucking mandalorian warrior sitting next to it?" Aler growled, and Imogen shrugged.
    "It's not like I mean it any harm, I don't think its dad is gonna kill me just for admiring it," she said, voice casual as Aler's mouth dropped.
    "He's probably murdered for less," he whispered, though the Mandalorian could still hear every word out of his mouth.
    "Children need to be socialized," Imogen fired back. "Is it really so terrible that I just wanna give that adorable green monster a hug?" she asked, and Aler threw his head back with a groan.
    "Do you have no sense of self preservation?" he challenged, and Imogen giggled.
    "I have a rather good sense of self preservation, I'll have you know!" she shot back, gulping down whatever drink the Rodian had ordered her this time. This was how it usually went after she had fixed his ship, he'd pay her a couple credits below her usual rate, and the rest would go to drinks as the two caught up. Imogen prided herself on being the closest thing to a friend the Rodian bounty hunter could claim to have.
    "Mhmm," Aler was obviously unconvinced. Imogen just raised her eyebrows at him.
    "I kicked your ass the first time we met, and you still don't think I can handle myself?" she challenged, and Aler's hands immediately rose in a placating gesture.
    "Hey, you know I was joking, Imogen," he said, voice raising slightly in pitch. Imogen laughed.
    "That's what I thought," she shot back her drink that had been refilled before standing and giving the Rodian a one-armed hug. "Next time I see you, it had better not be because all that work I just did on your ship got blown up," she muttered, glaring at Aler as he had the gall to look guilty.
    "Sorry," he muttered, and Imogen rolled her eyes.
    "Sure you are,"

    It was much later when Imogen was working on a speeder that had been dropped off earlier in the day, when the sun on Nevarro was still high and she could still feel the heat travelling over from the nearby lava fields. Her hand tightened around the wrench she had in her hand when she heard the softest clink of armor behind her, whoever was approaching was clearly trying to do so unannounced. She spun around quickly, reaching her arm with the wrench straight out and gasping as it collided with a beskar chest plate. She heard a groan crackle through the modulator, but the Mandalorian quickly raised his hands to show he meant her no harm.
    "Oh shit I'm sorry!" she gasped, grabbing his arm and forcing him to sit down. "I thought- well, I don't know, but I'm sorry, even with that armor on that must've hurt," she murmured, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck after dumping the wrench on the seat of the speeder. The Mandalorian said nothing, just looked at her. Or at least, she assumed he was looking at her, one could never tell where his eyes were pointed under that black visor. "Can I-what can I do for you?" she stuttered nervously when he made no move to speak, and it was only then that she noticed the floating bassinet was right behind him. It was open and a green head with comically large ears was poking out, huge eyes staring at her. Imogen suppressed her urge to squish it to her chest and hold onto the adorable child forever, instead refocusing on the Mandalorian.
    "You like kids," he said, an observation more than a question. Imogen just nodded slightly, eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're a mechanic," he continued, to which Imogen nodded again. "You can fight," a nod again. "You looking for work?" this one was a question, and Imogen's eyes widened slightly.
    "Are-are you offering?" her fingers twitched, anxious to have something to fidget with. The Mandalorian, who was clearly a man of few words, nodded curtly. "You want me to..?" she trailed off, hoping he would fill in the blanks.
    "Look after the kid while I'm on jobs, patch up the ship when needed," he said, and Imogen tried to hide the excited smile on her face at the prospect of getting to care for the child.
    "A-and, what would p-pay be?" she asked, voice betraying how nervous she was to ask.
    "25% of my earnings from bounties, plus food and lodging," he responded, and Imogen had to physically restrain herself from jumping at the offer, which was much more generous than she had expected.
    "Th-that sounds good," she muttered instead, shuffling her feet in the sand, tilting her head down so she was no longer staring into the empty blackness of his visor. She vaguely knew of mandalorian culture, and held a great respect for those who followed the way of the Mandalore, but it was still unnerving to talk to someone without eye contact or facial expressions.
    "Can you leave tomorrow?" the Mandalorian asked, rising and tilting his helmet down to remain looking at her. Imogen nodded in confirmation, eyes glancing at the child who was still staring at her before returning to the Mandalorian's helm. The Mandalorian noticed her gaze, despite the subtleness, and shifted almost awkwardly. "Do you-" the hesitance in his words surprised Imogen, his unsure voice not fitting with his armor and the rest of his persona. "Do you want to hold him?" he asked, and he had barely finished the question before Imogen was lunging forward and picking up the child. She saw the Mandalorian flinch slightly, as if he were going to stop her from touching the child, before forcing himself to relax. It was obvious whenever the child was involved he was in a state of high alert, seeing as not too long ago many of the hunters on Nevarro would have sought to eliminate both him and the child.
    The child let out a coo as Imogen hugged him to her chest, his three clawed hand softly holding onto a lock of her hair. Everything but the little child in her arms was drowned out, and Imogen's inner nurturer purred at the opportunity to take care of a baby. A smile lit up her face as she bounced the child, who she had noticed yawning in the bassinet a little earlier. His giant eyes began to blink sleepily as he smacked his lips together, and almost instinctively Imogen began to hum to it, the melody a song from her youth. It barely took a minute for the child to fall asleep, and when Imogen became more aware of where she was, her eyes widened, looking up to the Mandalorian who had not moved from his spot directly in front of her, his helmet tilted slightly to the left as he observed her.
    "Sorry," she whispered, going to hand the child back to him. "Instinct," the Mandalorian nodded, hands reaching to take the child, but pausing when the child squirmed to get back to Imogen's warmth.
    "I could show you the ship," he blurted, voice equally soft, and Imogen widened her eyes slightly at the offer. "It's impossible to get him to sleep, and he likes you, so-" Imogen cut him off with a smile and a nod, gesturing for him to lead the way. The Mandalorian led her and his youngling to the Razor Crest, which he had landed just outside the city, the bassinet trailed behind them uselessly, as the child slept in Imogen's arms.
    After pressing a button on his vambrace, the ramp to the Mandalorian's ship lowered, the quiet whirring of the machinery surprising Imogen, who had expected every mechanical part of the ship to be noisy and clunky. She was led up to ramp to a metal cot which was next to a little alcove where she assumed the child slept.
    "That'll be your cot," the Mandalorian said, his voice still quiet as to not disturb the child.
    "You're lucky I hoard blankets, otherwise that cot would be very uncomfortable," she said with an awkward giggle, crouching down to rearrange the blankets in the child's sleeping space one-handed.
    "What are you doing?" he asked, and Imogen's giggle was more natural this time.
    "It's no wonder you can't get him to sleep if this is where you try to get him to do it," she murmured, folding one blanket so it was just one layer in the middle, but had more cushioning around the outside. "He doesn't even have a pillow," Imogen placed the child gently down on the makeshift bed, her arms going to take off her overshirt to make into the child's pillow before the Mandalorian's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. He said nothing, and Imogen was left just awkwardly glancing at his hand. "I have an undershirt," she reassured him, lifting her wrist that wasn't in the Mandalorian's grasp to show him the white tank top underneath. "I was going to give him my shirt as his pillow," she said, and gently pulled her wrist out of his gloved hand.
    After Imogen had rolled her overshirt up and gently placed it under the child's head, she turned back to the Mandalorian.
    "I have a client coming to pick up his speeder at first light, and then I'll be good to go," she said, turning to leave the ship. "I'll see you tomorrow, hun," she bid him goodbye and left the ship, hearing the awkward choked sound of surprise leave the Mandalorian. Imogen bit her lip softly, her sharp teeth digging in enough to keep her grounded but not enough to draw blood. It was a reflex...

    Din debated calling after her, debated demanding to know why she called him hun, or just calling her back to the ship so he could be in her presence a little longer. Of course, he did none of those things, instead pressing a button on his vambrace once she was out of sight to lift the ramp of his ship again. He turned his head to look at his foundling, who had turned to nuzzle into the girl's shirt.
    "I'm glad you like her, kid," he said, and turned to go up to the cockpit for some shut eye, having a small room where his bed was right behind it. The door was hidden, of course, but somehow the little green womp rat who was currently sleeping in his own bed for once almost always found a way to crawl up and sleep on Din's chest.
    That night he stayed in his bed, and when Din came down in the morning with his armor on and ready to go, he was surprised to see the child still contently nuzzling Imogen's shirt. He scooped him up and placed him in his bassinet, the child still gripping the shirt, and Din closed the lid so he could continue sleeping. He exited the Razor Crest with the bassinet following slightly behind him, and walked the short distance into town and over to Imogen's modest mechanic's stall. The speeder she had been working on the day before was gone, and Imogen sat in front of the stall with two bags and a toolkit at her feet, one bag presumably held her clothing and toiletries, while the other looked like an instrument case.
    Din stopped a couple feet away, waiting for Imogen to finish up her conversation with the woman she was chatting with.
    "Imogen, you know I-"
    "You will," Imogen cut the woman off, shoving something in her hand. "I won't be here anymore, and people know this to be a mechanic's stall," the woman tried to protest again.
    "At least let me pay-"
    "No!" Imogen denied, grabbing the woman's hand before it could reach into the pocket of her apron for credits. "You deserve it," she pressed, shoving the woman's hands away before giving her a quick hug. The woman smiled at the girl, nodding slightly.
    "Thank you," she murmured, and Imogen shook her head before turning and seeing the Mandalorian.
    "Oh! Good morning!" she greeted with a shy smile, hoisting the bags up over her shoulder and lifting the tool kit. The Mandalorian nodded to her in greeting. "Are we off?" he nodded once more, and Imogen nodded back, prompting him to turn to head back to the ship, trusting her to follow. She glanced at the closed bassinet with a smile, rightly assuming the child was still asleep, before trailing after the Mandalorian.
    Once they were in sight of the Razor Crest, Imogen spoke.
    "So, I've gathered you aren't a fan of talking," she began, and the Mandalorian simply inclined his helmet at her to show he was listening. "But I gotta ask if you want to set aside times where I bugger off from the main area?" she asked, and the Mandalorian's helmet snapped over to look at her, the helmet hiding Din's shocked look. "So you can eat and stuff..?" Imogen continued, cringing slightly at his intense gaze that was palpable even through the helmet.
    "You-" the Mandalorian cut himself off with a sigh. "That is kind of you, but not necessary, I have my own quarters," he said, and Imogen smiled softly at him, nodding.
    "Okay," she said, climbing the ramp. The two had reached the Crest by that point and Imogen wasted no time in plopping one of her bags next to her cot and unzipping it, pulling out four blankets that the Mandalorian was surprised she had room for and setting them on the cot. She felt his stare, and turned to smile sheepishly at him.
    "I really like being warm," she giggled nervously, one hand clasping at her wrist. "I'm like a friggin loth cat at, I get the right amount of warmth and I'm asleep," the Mandalorian nodded once, glad that the helmet was hiding his amused smile, especially when she continued to nervously gaze up at him. "I-uh-," she cut herself off with another nervous giggle, and the Mandalorian tilted his head at her as if to say 'go on'. "I can fly pretty well, too, if you ever need that," she said, unconsciously reminding the Mandalorian that they were supposed to be leaving, and he nodded once more before heading up to the cockpit, Imogen following after him. The bassinet followed after them, and the Mandalorian pressed a button on his vambrace causing it to settle onto the ground next to the copilot's seat. Imogen heard the cooing start not soon after that, as he was initiating the take off sequence. Her eyes fell on a button at the front of the bassinet, and she reached to press it, the lid opening with a slight hiss to show the now awake child gazing up at her. Once he registered that it was Imogen's face he was seeing, a toothy grin came onto his face and he made the universal baby grabby hands at her. Imogen giggled softly and lifted him up, placing him facing out on her lap so he could watch his dad pilot them off Nevarro.