exhale ; chirrut + baze

2 / getting away

CHIRRUT TOOK IN A BREATH, stepping back into the busy streets of Jedha, his hood low on his face. He turned to a couple dripping with precious metals and stones, their jewelry jingling softly as they walked, and then turned to the man curled up in a corner, his wheezing breaths loud and clear in Chirrut's ears as he listened to the man's ribcage rattle with every shaky breath he took.

He rolled his shoulders, striding towards the couple. He collided headfirst into them, the man going off into a spew of curse words but the other man was just shocked, trying to steady Chirrut. In the flurry of movement, his hood was knocked back, and he turned to the couple, his milky eyes in full view for him to see.

"Honey," the other man steadying Chirrut said icily, letting go of him, "Please stop cursing at this poor blind man."

The man turned to his other and then to Chirrut, who was blinking innocently at him.

His eyes widened. "Sir, I am so sorry."

"It's fine," he replied swiftly, nodding his head respectfully at the couple. "You enjoy your day now."

"We will," the man replied sweetly, gripping the other's hand and pulling him away.

Chirrut walked away, pulling his hidden hand out from his sleeve. In his hand, was a bracelet littered with small onyx gems.

Too easy.

He walked over to the man, sitting down next to him. The man was asleep, softly snoring. Chirrut smiled to himself, reaching into the man's coat and placing the bracelet in his coatpocket. He stepped back, and pulled on his hood before disappearing back into the crowd.

Baze watched the entire spectacle from afar, leaning against a turret. He popped a nut into his mouth, before turning to Mara, who was behind him, her Jedi robes hidden under her large cloak, her vibrant hair tucked in its collar.

"Am I gonna follow him?" Baze asked, chewing.

"Close your mouth when you chew, Baze, that's disgusting." Mara rolled her eyes.

"Well? He's getting away." Baze chewed more noisily in spite, but he closed his mouth.

"He's not getting away," she replied.

"Mara," he sighed, swallowing and pulling his coat tighter around him. "I'm gonna find him."

"He's not getting away," she repeated.

"Ple--"

Mara stuck her arm out, and a figure collided into it, the man's hood knocked back. Baze found himself staring eye to eye with the man from earlier, his cheekbones soft in the setting sun. The breath was knocked out of him, and he fell, his chest heaving up and down. Baze sucked in a breath. The man was, admittedly, very pretty, even with his pale eyes.

"Are you alright?" Baze reached down to help him out.

The man stood up quickly, not taking Baze's hand. He turned his head between both Mara and Baze. And then he began to sprint away, fleeing.

"Now," Mara pushed her heavy cloak off her shoulders, the garb landing in a heap pooling under her feet, "he's getting away."

She gave chase, her feet kicking up dust behind her as she ran after the man. Baze sighed, looking between her and the discarded cloak.

He sighed, picking up the cloak and placing it over his shoulder, grumbling, "Jedis and their Kriffin' robes."

~

BAZE TOOK IN A BREATH, standing from a rooftop of a building, trying to find either the man or Mara. A flurry of red streaked past, Baze squinting at the streak and then to the man weaving through the ground hastily.

"Damnit," Baze looked around, and pulled out his staff.

He clicked a button from the underside of it, and two sprigs of metal spread from the staff's tip, creating a bowcaster. He placed a knee up, his feet on the edge of the rooftop. He balanced the weapon on his knee, looking down its length and at the man's head. He inhaled, his fingers lingering on the trigger.

He shifted the bowcaster down, aiming at his arm, and squeezed the trigger. The man stumbled, and fell. A streak of red made its way to the man, and crouched down, assessing him, before looking up in Baze's direction. Her eyes narrowed when her gaze laid on his.

Baze shrugged, placing both his hands up, as if feigning indifference, Mara shaking her head in response, as if to say idiot.

Baze made his way back to the temple, Mara already standing by the doorway, Chirrut leaning against her, an arm around her shoulders as she held him up.

"What the hell was that?" Mara hissed.

"What?" he asked, "We got him didn't we?"

"You could have killed him for Force's sake," she said angrily, fuming, "You sniped an unarmed man, Baze."

Baze gaze softened, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Wait a minute," Chirrut slurred, leaning forward, nearly tripping Mara, "you shot me?"

Baze blinked. "I -- uh -- " Baze looked pleadingly at Mara, begging for help.

She smiled darkly, looking at Baze intently. "Yes, Baze, did you shoot him and send him into shock?"

"Mara," he warned.

"If so," Chirrut took a step forward, stumbling straight into Baze's arms. Baze's wiry hands steadied the smaller man, enough for Chirrut to lean forward, his face inches from Baze's. "Good shot."

Chirrut promptly passed out in Baze's arms, Mara simultaneously bursting into laughter.

"You should have seen," she cackled, wiping away a fake tear, "your face."

"Mara," he said cautiously, holding a limp Chirrut at arm's length. "Help. Please."

"Alright, alright," she grabbed ahold of one of Chirrut's arms and draped it around her shoulders, Baze copying her movements. "Let's bring him in."