⠀⠀
her laugh is warm and quiet — kept mostly to herself.
beneath the brim, mar hides a thankful smile into the collar of her flight jacket.
“soon, hopefully.”
⠀⠀
"shut it. i need ye in top condition for this next job, that's all."
yet there's a betrayal in his next movements. before turning away, he takes another good look at her. his fingers twitch for a moment, and then...
in one sweeping motion, his hat is placed on her —
⠀⠀
“thank you.”
she means it — this is helpful. the small bit of pain reliever will do wonders, she knows. mar’s eyes are warm.
“whatever you say, boss.”
⠀⠀
"tch. softness gets ye killed, i'd call that a terrible thing."
the droid hands over a small bag; it contains an assortment of medical supplies, and bane pulls out a few capsules of medicine that he hands over to mar in a smooth motion.
"take those. it'll help."
⠀⠀
“mm.”
hands on her hips. her look is venomous.
“maybe you’re right. but i’m not a cock about it, cowboy.”
she tilts her chin up and crosses her arms.
⠀⠀
"you're one to talk about ego."
his gaze lowers to meet hers; unyielding, cold. he might exaggerate the craning of his neck a tad to be meeting her gaze.
"you pilots all think so highly of yourselves. you're no exception."
⠀⠀
she rolls her eyes so hard it’s no wonder she doesn’t dislocate something.
she pushes off the crate & moves to stand — boldly — mere inches in front of him. mar flicks his chest plate.
“my only desire of you is that you pull that inflated ego out of your ass.”
⠀⠀
"thought of that rather quick. oh, is that your deep secret desire of me?"
he's focused his gaze on his scope, fingers careful in their motions as he cleans it.
"you'll have to ask nicer if you ever want your fantasy to come true."
⠀⠀
“softness isn’t always a terrible thing.”
she gives him a look. when todo returns, the pilot inspects the plating that has earned the boot heel.
“and i like him. so be nice.”
⠀⠀
"i am nice to him."
the words are followed immediately by a boot kicking at the droid, a hushed growl of an order to find some medicine given.
"yer too soft on him. that's not my problem."
⠀⠀
“i quite like the whole ‘grumpy’ bit.”
a little nudge with her boot. she sips the caf and cradles it close. mar slips him a wink. her tone is coy.
“it’s cute.”
⠀⠀
⠀⠀
she snorts at that.
she leans forward on her elbows, kicks her long legs in, & leans over the crate. she continues her scroll, pointedly ignoring him.
“jealousy doesn’t look very good on you, y’know. if you wanted to haul me around in your arms, just say so.”
⠀⠀
her words, and the obvious meaning behind them, only make him scoff. there's a roll of the eyes, along with it.
"so mature. it's no wonder wrecker likes you so much."
sarcasm drips over every word as he leans back against the wall, arms crossing.
⠀⠀
“i’m funny everyday, crosseyed,” she bites back, leaning forward on the storage crate. her scrolling on the shipment log has stalled.
maritza narrows her eyes. “don’t you have a rifle to /polish/?”
⠀⠀
"aren't you funny today, mace."
his gaze does not waver. tension rising.
walking away is always an option, he knows that. but with her? it's like a magnet. unable to pull away.
⠀⠀
“and more,” comes the honest smile, bided by a cough and a sneeze — all muffled into her compression top.
she sniffles. the warm sip wrings the sap out of her. “i think you’re the nicest, y’know.”
⠀⠀
⠀⠀
“be nice to him.”
her ribs ache. mar moves to cover her eyes with her arm. the pounding hasn’t eased up. her sense of humor doesn’t either.
“he’s cleaned the place up, at least.”
⠀⠀
"mhm, sure ye are."
it's with that last cough that he turns away, searching some storage compartments nearby before huffing and calling for todo.
"lousy droid. moved the medicine somewhere on me."
⠀⠀
her smile is tired — but it splits her face when echo brings forth two things she knows will give her some energy.
“you didn’t have to do think, echo.”
⠀⠀
⠀⠀
his thinly-veiled worry is charming — and maritza meets it with a tired wave of the hand. she coughs again, hunched in the captain’s chair.
“m’fine. promise.”
…sort of. cue another cough.
⠀⠀
"ye sick now? don't be spreadin' it to me. got jobs needing to be done."
he's watching her carefully. any hint of concern in his next question can be covered up with an easy lie.
"are ye flyin' like this? you shouldn't be."