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An early night had already fallen over Coruscant when Perrin arrived fashionably late on the Organa’s balcony. Breha had long departed, off with her society friends for the night to a new cocktail place and chat before she had to make her way back to Alderaan for the next conference she was leading. The sitter was playing droid-tag with Leia in the enclosed greenhouse, but they would soon be off to bed. In the morning, she would be going with Breha back home. His chest panged with the anticipatory longing for both of them. It couldn’t be avoided.
Bail checked his watch and pulled at his silk dress-cape, squinting at the hover-taxi as it arrived. Mon would be using their driver then. Perrin had his hair up in the new style and grinned hugely at Bail as he clambered out of the back seat. He still had that athlete’s sense about him, as though he believed he was still clumsy with muscle. Bail held out his arms, as if to say— There he is! — and Perrin embraced him.
“How are you holding up,” Perrin asked, and elbowed him jocularly. Bail clasped his arm.
“As good as can be expected.”
“How old is yours again?”
“Four standard.”
“Ah, yes, I forgot. We’re just behind. Leida’s nearly three.”
“Leida and Leia. You know we should get them together sometime.”
“We ought to,” Perrin said. Then, in conspiratorial tones, “It’s Mon’s schedule, you know.”
Bail did know, but he would never have said it like Perrin did, as if blaming. Though he would never say it to his face, Bail believed what Perrin needed most of all was a job.
As it was, he shrugged and let Perrin in for a quick drink while the taxi loitered in the Organa’s airspace. When Leia and the sitter came in, Bail brushed a kiss to the top of her head while she giggled sleepily. Perrin greeted her like he would royalty, only half-joking, and then the sitter hoisted her up and said, “Princesses who have early mornings must go to bed on time,” and they were off to do the things he now desperately wished he could join— the toothpaste and the baby shampoo, the bedtime story.
He was doing all of it for her, of course. Even this — headed to a party with Perrin Fertha, who spirits knew was a hedonist and a collaborator, but who was (Bail had to admit) quite fun. He was also the proprietor of a champion comm-book, the members of which ranged from old republic activist beaus and mid-rim royalty, to the inner-circle of the Emperor himself. Bail, although he would be loath to admit it, needed a connection like Perrin. And if Perrin thought they were only allied in their marriages to powerful, busy women, well, then Bail was happy to let him believe that.
In the back of the cab, Perrin pinched from the recesses of his iridescent coat a little baggy with four blue pills inside. Bail felt his heart kick into a higher gear. Spirits in the dark, he thought, so it’s going to be that type of night. Perrin waggled the bag in front of him theatrically and grinned.
“What is it?” Bail asked, hiding his caution well. Or so he thought.
Perrin laughed like he’d said something funny. “Don’t be so square. I got them from Mon’s uncle’s flatmate, and he’s an imminently trustable man. I’ve met him at several galas and whatnot and he’s never given me the least-bit of pause.”
“Mon’s Uncle?” Bail asked, head spinning already.
“No, the flatmate. Keep up! It’s the kind of stuff they make in the laboratories on Rhinnal. Perfectly safe.”
Bail consented to have one, and Perrin tapped it out on his hand.
“Six hours, but it’ll feel like more,” Perrin said, once one was already on Bail’s tongue. He didn’t have much of a choice, he thought gloomily. This was altogether not the night he’d thought he’d be having. He’d anticipated one-too-many drinks and maybe a horribly expensive dinner after rubbing shoulders with some of the Empire’s best and brightest (worse and darkest). This had not been in his plan. He swallowed.
“Good man,” Perrin said, and swallowed one himself, knocking it back with a slim silver flask he kept in his breast pocket. “Oh, we’re going to have fun tonight. Can you turn the music up?” This, he asked the driver through the divider, who turned the radio knob and sent a crash of pop-music into the backseat.
I see the Empire in your eyes, I see the shine of all our lives — moaned the voice of some young up-and-comer propagandist.
The melody was so kriffing catchy that Bail found himself humming it sometimes to himself. Humiliating.
A Galaxy together cannot be torn apart.
Perrin was tapping furiously on the divider glass.
“Some dancing music, please. None of this pop garbage. Thank you.” Some deep leap-jump replaced it, mellow and somehow sweet to Bail’s ears.
Bail was overwhelmed, momentarily, by a sweeping wave of affection for the man. It passed, but not before alerting him to the reality of the drug setting it. The rumble of the car under his thighs felt good, the feel of the silk that Breha had picked out for him at the tailors pressed against his now slightly flushed skin. Breha. Even her name was a blessing.
“Hmmm,” he managed to say, a questioning tilt to it.
Perrin chuckled. “You’re coming up fast.”
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of taking this one before,” Bail said, clutching at politeness like the only buoy in a turbid Alderaanian lake.
“Well, pleasure is what it’s all about,” Perrin said, scratching at his scalp. Bail could hear him clicking his jaw back and forth.
Oh, Spirits, Bail thought, vaguely horrified. Had Perrin given him sex drugs?
“Did you give me sex drugs?” he asked, unable to stop the question from slipping from his lips.
“Don’t be such a prude,” Perrin said, and didn’t answer the karking question. “Relax,” he said, and massaged Bail’s shoulder. It did feel good. Not too good, but good. “We’re almost there, and then we can dance. You’ll like it.”
Bail very much doubted that. He loved to dance. He was good at it, even. But dancing with Perrin Fertha on sex drugs? Out of the question.
##
The Jizz was electric. It was undeniably the best baseline Bail had ever danced to. He could feel it thrumming through his very bones, shimmering over his skin. Perrin was twirling a lithe Tholothian girl— one of the very few aliens at the function — in and out of his arms.
They’d made very few introductions of themselves and overall Bail was feeling better for it. Why didn’t he just go out to have fun more often? Perrin gestured over to him and Bail went. They seated themselves in one of the lounge areas.
“See?” Perrin said, and giggled a little at the end of it. Bail nodded. He thought Perrin might mean something about the music. It was very good music. He was feeling pretty good all around. There had been a horrible bit of nausea at the beginning, but now he was perhaps only a little over-warm and pleasantly aware of all his body parts as separate entities that he was in charge of moving in concert. He felt that a lot of the pleasure was coming from doing this in the correct sort of way.
Perrin’s pupils were huge and he looked very smug with his arms thrown out over the back of the lounge-seat.
“Yes, it’s good,” Bail managed. His teeth were slightly too big for his mouth. He guessed he would have to come to terms with that in the course of his life. He’d accepted that much.
“Hey, thanks for coming out,” Perrin said, and petted the back of Bail’s head lightly.
“Of course,” Bail said, and leaned into Perrin’s hand, so that he might feel more comfortable scratching his blunt fingers through Bail’s hair.
“It’s a lonely life we both lead,” Perrin said, suddenly serious. Bail looked over at him. He was still smiling, but it looked plastered-on now. “We’ve got to stick together.”
Bail felt his stomach sink rapidly. The good feelings were still there, but muted. And did Perrin have tears in his eyes?
Bail had to keep fidgeting, because that was what the stuff in him wanted, but he also placed a hand on Perrin’s knee. Was that weird? He didn’t know anymore.
“Perrin,” he said, hoping to emote his clear desire for Perrin to be happy, “it doesn’t have to be like that. I want you to know I’m always here to council or give advice. It’s my job. I’m good at it.”
Perrin’s face changed ever so slightly into an expression Bail wasn’t sure he recognized. Everything was fuzzy in terms of recollection of the shapes faces made. He leaned forwards, and for one horrible dizzy moment Bail thought Perrin was going to try to kiss him, but instead, he just pitched forwards onto Bail’s shoulder and started crying.
Bail stroked his head absently. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, my friend. There. There there.”
It went on like this for some time.
##
When Perrin was sufficiently recovered they made a few rounds. Bail was introduced to various seedy characters with a smile on and a pit in his stomach. He hoped he was coming off well but it was like speaking from under a lot of water. Also the music was horrifically loud. And these monsters were killing people every day under the guise of normalcy and safety. He went to the fresher and Perrin followed him there but they only did their business side by side without talking. As he was starting to come down and the Jizz was sounding less vibrant and fantastic and more like the sad dregs of whatever culture the hosts could dredge from a human-only band, he clapped Perrin on the shoulder and said: “Look, I’ll call us a cab.”
Perrin, his long face drenched in the roving droid light and eyes searching, only shook his head. “I’ve got another hour of this,” he said, apologetically, as if he had no choice. He cracked his knuckles loudly and winced. “You go, I’ll see you later, alright?”
Bail nodded and shook his head as he left. No more parties with Perrin Fertha, he told himself, perhaps out loud, by the look the cabbie gave him. Then he was on his way home.
##
Breha was there in bed when he got home, still feeling the sparklers moving through his body. He knelt by the low bed and shook her gently. She groaned and rolled over. The lights in her chest throbbed gently. He thought he could feel them.
“Bail?” she asked, eyes cracking open. The words got stuck on their way out. Her eyes darted across his face.
“I want you to know,” Bail said, slowly, “I did not have sex with Perrin Fertha.”
“Okay,” Breha said, sounding very much like she wanted to laugh at him.
“But he did give me sexy drugs.”
He’d not really been turned on at all that night, just more aware of himself in his body. Touching had only felt like the natural thing to do. Now that he was near his wife, her luminous skin, her bowed mouth and the freckle on her nose, he was nearly beside himself. The light of a new dawn was stretching across her face.
“Darling,” he said.
“Oh dear, he really did dose you,” she said, laughing. “I’ll try not to take advantage.”
“Wouldn’t be very propri— proprietor — “ Bail gave up and took his shirt off. She was still laughing as she ran her hands across his chest. Her hair was wrinkled with sleep, and she was still in some of the makeup from last night. Scattered gray around her eyelashes.
“Did you have fun?” he asked, nipping at her collarbone.
“You’re going to scream,” she said, her eyes glittering. “Mon got very drunk and kissed me on the mouth.”
“She what?” Bail asked, pausing for a moment. “No. She really?”
“Yes,” Breha said, taking his ear between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t think she really meant it. Or I don't think it was particular to me. Do you think they’re… what is that thing again— open, discretionary?"
Bail buried his head in his wife's neck and moaned. “I know enough about their marriage, darling. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, raking her fingernails sleepily down his neck. “If only we could make you feel better.”
“Very good idea,” Bail said, and then stopped thinking about the Fertha-Mothma household until Breha had to get ready.
He lay in bed with his head spinning as she hustled around their room. He could feel the end of the high like a bad omen on the horizon, but looking at Breha’s back as she shifted into her travel dress he was still safe on the shores of her bed. He groaned and closed his eyes. She kissed his forehead and winked.
“I’m getting the baby,” she said. “Come and say goodbye to her before we leave.”
“Like this?”
“Oh, shush.”
He put on a robe and went out to kiss Leia’s black curls. She was still asleep. He was only a man who was very lucky. He was trying very hard. For his wife, for his child, and for many people who he didn’t know.