Not Even Death

Morning Honey

"Did we really agree to fifty credits?"

"Oh, yeah," I pull myself up for a quick peck on Kanan's cheek as he places the winnings in my pocket.

Kanan chuckles. "Who would have thought Sabine would be the one to admit her feelings?"

"Uh," I point a finger at myself, "me!"

"Of course," a soft kiss plants itself on my temple, "because you're so smart."

I purr under the skilled touch of the Jedi as he begins to massage the tension between my shoulder blades.

"Stop it," I giggle but wishing he didn't have to. "I have breakfast duty."

"Then, I'll help," Kanan offers cheerfully as he moves his hands to my belly. "You would love for Papa to help out, isn't that right?"

"We would love that," I agree, "if you put some pants on."

Kanan doesn't seem to take my jab seriously; though, he should. He knits those thick eyebrows together in concentration as his hands roam my abdomen. A bright smile breaks over Kanan's face, and I'm somewhat worried he's decided to streak across the Ghost.

"Somebody's had a growth spurt," Kanan's voice turns soft and a little squeaky. "My baby's getting so big!"

"Did you just call me fat?" I tease.

"Sweetness, you can only grow with beauty in my eyes." Wow, nice words and a smoldering look. He's good.

"You know, if you weren't blind that would totally crash and burn."

Kanan gives me another quick kiss on the lips, and I can feel him smirk. "But I don't burn easily."

I snort and break into a laughing fit.

*

Kanan does everything by the book. There is no guessing a measurement or substituting an ingredient. The recipe is law.

And I could care less.

If I think it works, it works. I might glance at the recipe for inspiration, but my mother always taught me that real cooking is a work of art.

It drives Kanan berserk. And I love it.

I've just added a new spice from one of our refueling stops to the gooey tarts. Briefly, I sneak a glance to see if I've gotten away with my addition, but I'm met with crossed arms and a stern frown.

"What kind of gooey tarts do you think you're making?" he tries to lower his voice into a menacing tone.

"My kind," I evade the question.

"Hera," Kanan says calmly but very seriously, "you can't just add whatever you—"

"Just try this!" I interrupt shoving my spoon into his open and irritating mouth.

A small line of batter flows from Kanan's slender lips, and he expertly licks it away with a flick of his tongue. I wiggle an eyebrow waiting for the inevitable: the moment when he concedes that I have indeed made the best gooey tarts to date.

"Now, you need to add more honey," Kanan grumbles wiping his face with the corner of his apron. "This is why you don't screw with recipes. It throws everything off balance."

"Ugh," I reach for the honey jar, "spare me the Jedi jabber. They're my gooey tarts."

"I'm just trying to help," the blind man says innocently as he bats his eyelashes.

"Mmm," I grab onto his forearm, "well you can start," I pause to kiss the little place at the base of Kanan's neck, "by keeping your comments to yourself." I give a squeeze on the butt just for good measure.

"Ow, my eyes!"

I look up to see Ezra and Sabine looking both disheveled and disgusted. They stand close with shoulders touching, and I can't help notice how their lips look slightly swollen. This is the fourth morning in a row that the pair has arrived to breakfast together and suspiciously at that.

"Ezra! Sabine!" I take a step back. Kanan and I don't make a habit of PDA, but the crew is never up this early unprovoked.

Kanan must have thought the same thing as he smoothly retorts, "You two are up early."

Now, it's the teens' turn to step apart awkwardly.

"We were already awake," Ezra tries to play it cool.

Kanan snickers. "Did you get any sleep last night?" his voice is tick with implications until my elbow delivers a silencing blow to his rib cage.

"Kanan," I hiss.

Sabine coughs as she's caught off guard, but Ezra answers again, "No, actually. We were talking, and we lost track of time."

"Guys," I try to sound sincere, "you don't have to be shy around us."

Sabine's face is priceless. "Oh, yeah. We do." She grabs Ezra by the arm and heads back towards the cabins.

Kanan's head hits my shoulder the moment they disappear. Something between laughter and an exasperated wheeze escapes him.

"What in the galaxy is wrong with you?"

Kanan continues to laugh as he answers my question with a question, "Does this mean we have to have 'the talk' with them?"

"I'm going to say that they're probably good," I manage slowly, "but don't worry. One day you get to explain things to Spector Seven."

"Oh, yay," he's still chuckling as he gives me a proper kiss on the lips. I can taste the remains of tart batter on the tip of his tongue.

And it does not need more honey!