Title: Father, Jugs And Speed

Author: pronker

Era: 10 ABY

Summary: Boba has needs. Fennec provides. [Conclusion to the "Pusher, Xerarch, The Stuff" series]

IOIOIOO

"Intoxicate me, Fett."

"Why start now?"

"Because you need me."

"I always need you."

Rather than pursue that subject, you study the jug of solace on your shared dining table. The Mods shovel down their breakfast and leave for the day, oblivious to new vibes between their daimyo and his aide-de-camp. If you want, you could say the five or six of them - their numbers fluctuate and you are certain they all hover in their late teens - range their distance from the head of the table where Fett always sits according to their mood that day. For example, Drash seats herself near him while she begins this morning's conversation, soliciting opinions about buying yet another implant. Her tentativeness gets on your nerves. Fett acts unconcerned, but then he does most days. You suppose Drash needs a sounding board when the dialogue ends up mostly a monologue as she feels her way to a satisfactory answer. She mumbles, mutters and moues to a final "Thanks!" that feels cheery.

You do not do cheery.

The heavy Quesoth pottery appears solid as palace walls. There is a plug atop its carmine rondeur or is it a New Republic hospital's seal? You heft the jug to examine it, aware that Fett's regard never wavers. He's secured the cure to what ails you at great cost and who knows how many greased palms. The substance slops as you swirl the jug. You'll never comm Snub for a quick fix again.

You concentrate on not looking grateful. The word cure misleads, you insist to yourself, because you will be drinking this medicine for the rest of your life. You talk things over with yourself with your inscrutable face on, cringing at communicating so much indecision to Fett. You refuse to pule like Drash. His stolid stance reassures you and so does the Aurebesh on the jug's label: If unable to ingest, rub on knees twice daily. The New Republic gives you an out, don't you see, Shand? Yes, it does, Shand, you aver in your mind's eye, and good bounty hunters scope more than one exit before entering a dangerous situation.

Fett needs you, and you need this. You pop the seal, pour a daily dose into your juice glass, and drink at a reasonable speed. This new stuff may not intoxicate you as much as the old stuff, but you are good with that.