Work Text:
Oh, this is just unreal, thought Din as he eyed the façade in front of him. Rain pattered on his helmet and cold trickles seeped in between parts of his armor. The building was decrepit, and the livid sky didn't actually improve the impression. Most of the windows were brightly illuminated and the clinking of glasses and silvery women's laughter came through the open door.
Din sighed and started moving. The neon sign above the door flickered time and again, and the H of Happy had entirely gone out. Happy Harlots. Couldn't his bounty have chosen some more pricy establishment than this rough house?
When Din came through the door, the conversations across the room died and every face turned towards him. The doorman – a huge Dowutin with a bulging scar across his face who lurked inside, possibly due to the rain – eyed him from head to foot and simply stepped aside without a comment.
Din entered. His rifle hung on his shoulder, and Grogu peeked curiously out of his shoulder bag. Din closed it firmly. After all this wasn't a place for kids' eyes.
The ladies of easy virtue eyed him coyly from the bar when Din entered and slowly passed the room. He looked around the room. On the left were a few separate tables, at the end was the bar, and right next to it, a staircase that probably led to the rooms above.
He didn't make it there, though.
One of the women – a human, as far as Din could tell – slid from her stool and walked towards him. She wore some sort of dress, arranged in a way that concealed little, and an alluring smile on her lips. "Hello, traveler," she said.
Din glanced discreetly at the tracker that he had attached to his left bracer. If he wasn't wrong, his bounty was somewhere upstairs. He sighed quietly. The second doorman next to the stairs didn't look like he would let him pass as easily as the first. For a few moments Din considered to make his way upstairs violently, but that would possibly alert his bounty. He sighed again. Time for plan B. Why did he have to come here of all places?
Din turned to the woman. "Hello," he replied, feeling extremely sappy.
If she noticed, she was too professional to show it. Her smile became brighter, and she let a feather-light hand run down his left arm, not that he noticed it much thanks to his armor. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a free table.
Din took a deep breath and followed her. Slowly the conversations at the other tables restarted. He let the woman place him in one of the chairs, undid his rifle from his shoulder and leaned it against the table. In one way he was relieved that this place was such a joint – otherwise he would have been forced to hand over his weapons and then, he was afraid, this evening would have quickly escalated into a gunfight.
"You'd like a refreshment?" asked the woman.
"No," Din replied and pondered about how long it would take until he could make his way upstairs. Firmly he held the cover of his bag closed, although Grogu became more and more agitated.
She placed herself in front of him, crossed her legs elegantly and leaned curiously towards him.
Din wondered how much of it was professional façade and how much genuine. "Where are you from, traveler?" she asked.
"From far away," replied Din tonelessly. He loathed small talk.
She wasn't discouraged. "You're the first Mandalorian here," she continued.
"Okay, listen, I'm not here to talk," he said gruffly and wished himself far away.
The corners of her mouth twisted. "No one's here to talk." She leaned back. "Very well, 500 credits per night, special requests cost extra."
Din sighed silently. "I have enough money," he replied.
Still smiling, she stood up and motioned for him to follow her. Din rose, took his rifle gun, and followed her. They passed the doorman and went upstairs.
"What's your name?" asked Din curiously.
"Whatever you like," she replied.
Din sighed.
She led him through a corridor full of doors, and the tracker on Din's arm told him that it was the wrong direction. 'Whatever-you-like' opened one of the doors and led him into a decorated room. In it was a large bed and some hidden lamps that shed indirect orange light.
Din wondered if there was another stairway that would allow him to leave the building unnoticed by the doorman.
The woman turned towards him and laid her hands on his helmet.
Din determinedly grabbed her wrists and shoved her hands back. "No," he said.
She frowned, but gave up resisting.
"You'll stay here," Din instructed her. He let go and turned towards the door.
"What's your plan?" she called after him, confused.
"I told you, I'm not here for talking!" Din replied and undid his rifles belt.
"Do you think I am?" she retorted, "This is a brothel, darling. Talking isn't my job."
Din turned back to her. "Do you know what my job is?"
She shook her head.
"I'm a bounty hunter. That's why I'm here." He held up his gun. "Do yourself a favor and stay in this room." He pulled 20 Credits out of his bag. "For your efforts. Lock the door."
"And for whom are you here?" she asked.
Din ignored her, left the room, and determinedly followed the trackers signal. He ignored the noises that came out of the other rooms he passed and stopped in front of the door indicated as the right location.
Without further ado, he looked around, opened the door, and entered.
"What the hell?" two voices complained. One belonged to a naked Twi'lek, the other to Din's half naked bounty.
Din turned his attention to the man. "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."
"Man, I'm busy right now!" he griped.
Din pointed his rifle gun in his direction, which made the Twi'lek slide out of the bed. Making a wide arc around Din, she slipped out of the door. "Do I look like I care?" asked Din.
"Dank Farrik! Couldn't you have waited till I'm done here?"
Din tackled some handcuffs from his belt as an answer. "Move." He threw the handcuffs to him.
The man groaned. "Can I at least get dressed?"
Din noticed the clothes scattered around the floor. "If you pull a gun, it'll amount to 'cold'," he said.
"All right, Mando," murmured the man and picked up his clothes from the floor. He slid into a shirt and worn shoes and eyed the handcuffs. "Who sent you?" he asked.
"Someone you owe a good deal of money," Din replied.
"That doesn't narrow it down much."
"Put that on," Din ordered him.
He put on the handcuffs.
Din grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. A few curious faces peeked out of some doors when he passed with his bounty. The woman who had led him upstairs raised an eyebrow.
"Is there some back door?"
"Down the corridor and to the left," replied the man languidly.
Din pushed him forwards and found the stairs, and they made their way out. In the street, they were greeted by the frigid rain. "Seriously, couldn't you have chosen some better place?" Din asked.
"You do know I have money problems?"