Pet Names

Muffin

    Things shifted after the tender moment shared over Ruu'Eva. It wasn't entirely noticeable, but the Mandalorian was more relaxed around Imogen, he spoke more unprompted. And Imogen was no longer hesitant with her physical affection.
    She was a snuggler at heart, and while snuggling with Ruu'Eva was well and good, that night where she fell asleep against the Mandalorian's chest was pure bliss. She was no longer shy about reaching for his hand, or resting her head on his pauldron after a long day spent chasing Ruu'Eva around the Crest or wherever they had landed to pick up a quarry.
    "What are you smiling about?" the Mandalorian asked, breaking Imogen out of her thoughts. She startled slightly.
    "Why do I have to be smiling about something specific?" she countered with a soft blush. "Can't I just be smiling for the hell of it?"
    "Not when you stopped playing 5 minutes ago and have just been staring off into space since," the Mandalorian chuckled a bit, and Imogen looked down at her ukulele that was still in her hands.
    "Huh," she muttered, reaching under her cot and putting her treasured instrument away. She looked around after replacing the case under her cot, and her brows furrowed. "Muffin, where's Ruu'Eva?" she asked, and the Mandalorian heaved a heavy sigh.
    "You never should have gotten me a cape with a hood," he groaned, turning and showing Ruu'Eva tucked snugly in his hood. Imogen giggled, knowing Ruu'Eva had probably climbed in there when the Mandalorian was sitting and refused to leave.
    "Well you never should have lied about having two," she said softly, hand unconsciously going to his cape that he had gifted her, which was currently draped over her cot. The Mandalorian snorted and shook his head, not deigning her comment with a verbal response. Imogen stood from where she had sat cross legged on the floor, still giggling softly, and grabbed Ruu'Eva from the Mandalorian's hood.
    "How do you say dad, in Mando'a?" she asked, and the Mandalorian turned back to face her, helmet tilting at a soft angle whose meaning Imogen had yet to decipher.
    "Buir," he answered, and Imogen smiled brightly as she lifted Ruu'Eva so he was level with her face.
    "You stay out of you buir's hood, okay?" she scolded him, and laughed a bit when his ears drooped in fake guilt. They had found a little bit ago that he understood most of what they said, even if he wasn't capable of words yet. "You'll end up choking him, or something," Ruu'Eva cooed, reaching for Imogen's face, and she sighed, knowing she had lost his attention. She pulled him closer so he rested against her shoulder, and his hands happily grabbed onto a lock of hair each.

"What is it with my hair?" Imogen murmured, brows pinching together adorably. Din shrugged.
    "It's nice hair," he answered, and Imogen gaped up at him, the blush that had faded from earlier returning full force. She tried to stutter out something, but Din beat her to it. "Besides, you're wearing it down, of course he's taking advantage of it," he said, and Imogen bit her lip softly. Din heaved a sigh.
    "There's a quarry in a nearby market, if you want to join?" he asked, voice hesitant. Imogen beamed up at him and nodded.
    "Of course!" she answered, and Din nodded, striding over to her cot and picking up his cape that he had given her. He motioned her over, and Imogen dutifully walked up so she was standing directly in front of him. With a flourish, Din draped the cape over her shoulders, tilting his head in admiration at the adorable way it swamped Imogen's form. He pinned it in place with a mudhorn clip, and Imogen's brows furrowed as she looked at it.
    "What's this?" she asked.
    "It's my clan's signet," he answered her, hands resting on her shoulders. He angled his helmet towards his pauldron, where his own signet was, and Imogen's attention was drawn to it. "The armorer made it, last time I was on Nevarro," he told her, and Imogen smiled up at him.
    "I swear the armorer is more your therapist than a blacksmith," she giggled, and Din shrugged.
    "She's a leader," he countered. "An advisor,"
    "And she's okay with me being in the clan?" Imogen asked, and Din sighed fondly at the confused sparkle in her eye.
    "She doesn't get a say," Imogen's brows flinched together in confusion. "You know about that day on Nevarro," he began to explain. "With Moff Gideon," Imogen nodded. "She told me then that Ruu'Eva is in my charge, not that I needed telling," Imogen giggled softly. "And said we were a clan of two," he waited for Imogen to catch on, admiring the way he could see her thought process reflected on her face.
    "Oh," she said softly, pink returning to her cheeks. Din secretly made it his goal to turn them permanently pink, adorably flustered looked good on her. "So I'm a part of your clan," she put the emphasis on your, and Din nodded, stepping back and pressing a button on his vambrace, calling the pram forward.
    "We should get going," he said, and Imogen nodded, depositing Ruu'Eva in the pram and following Din off the Razor Crest.
    The town was only a couple minutes away from where Din had landed, so soon enough the clan of three found themselves in a sparsely populated marketplace with a thin blanket of snow covering the ground and roofs of stalls and buildings. Din pulled out the tracking fob, turning slightly back and forth until it started beeping faster, and he followed it to a cantina.