Baby Boba
Baby Boba - He Calls Me - Training - Zam
The bounty hunter accepted the child with an unpracticed embrace. He roughly held the infant against his chest. “What does he eat?”
“Your kitchen will be stocked with milk when your weekly food parcel arrives. As you requested, a crib was put in your sleeping quarters. Keep us posted on your supply of diapers.”
Diapers! Jango groaned to himself, this kid is going to be a real pain!
He strode down the hallway, trying with little success to cushion his heavy footsteps. Each step jarred the infant, and Boba threatened to wake. Jango glowered down at the baby. What demon had possessed his mind that had made him ask for a clone?
His gaze softened—a little—as Boba turned his head to face the other direction. A minuscule sigh of sheer comfort escaped his tiny lips. A flicker of regret danced across Jango’s features. Is that what I was; what I used to be? Who was it that gazed down on me when I was so small? Jango had no memory of his mother. The earliest thing he could recall was the electric whip burning scars across his back. The marks still remained on his body, and on his mind.
Boba will never feel a whip on his back, vowed Jango, He will be the one to wield the whip.
“Jango Fett?” Zam Wesell stood inside Jango’s door, a look of utter disbelief on her face, which was, at the moment, human.
The bounty hunter’s head snapped up. “Zam. What are you doing here?”
“I saw your light on, and was wondering what you were up to.”
Jango indicated the bundle in his arms with a jerk of his chin. “Boba,” he explained curtly.
Zam grinned. “Of course. Jango Fett, feared bounty hunter, is up late to feed his baby.”
“Something like that.” Jango focused his gaze on Boba again.
Zam strode across the room, allowing the door to hiss shut behind her. She scooped up a purple teddy bear and thrust it at Jango with an air of repressed laughter. “The feared bounty hunter’s plaything?”
“Zam...” Jango didn’t feel much like arguing his case. He was tired, having been up for most of the night with his demanding clone.
Immediately, the changeling knew she was treading a fine line between irritation and fury. Jango was not known for his even temperament. Letting the stuffed animal fall, she perched herself upon the kitchen counter, which separated the kitchen from the living room. Zam regarded Jango from her vantage point, and smiled to herself. She would not often have the chance to see Jango Fett in a rocking chair.
Jango ignored his business partner and turned his attention back to Boba. While he had been talking to Zam, the bottle had slipped out of the baby’s mouth, and Boba was frantically trying, in his blind and sleepy way, to recover it. Jango quickly corrected the error, then shot a look, as menacing as he could muster, at Zam. “What’s up?”
“Just wondering what you were doing.” Zam cocked her head innocently and raised her eyebrows. He knew why she was here.
Jango caught the look and returned one of irritation. “Zam, I’m a little busy right now.”
“Of course,” Zam jumped off of the counter, withdrawing a datapad from her pocket and gazing at it absently. “I’m sure Stellar won’t mind our meeting being postponed a little…how about next year?”
Jango glared at her, then sighed. In his arms, the infant Boba sighed too, but it was much more innocent and carefree. Jango Fett detested innocence and carefreeness. He made a mental note not to let Boba grow up that way, then turned his attention back to Zam. “Just wait here a minute, okay?”
Zam smiled smugly and dropped onto the couch to wait for him, while Jango whisked Boba away to his crib. She knew that Jango wasn’t as upset with her as he seemed; he never was. Despite what he liked to tell people, they were not just business partners. Before Boba’s birth, Zam had spent a lot of time at Jango’s apartment, but, she defended quickly, never any nights. Their friendship had developed from partnership to romance in the months that they had been working for Eiben Stellar, a Dekenbrian slaver. Though Fett was not the most romantic man in the galaxy, Zam admitted, she’d always been a tomboy herself.
Jango trod back into the living room, disrupting her thoughts. Fishing his own datapad out of his pocket, he plopped down on the couch next to her and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “What’s Stellar say?”
Zam raised her eyebrows again, and plucked the burp towel off of Jango’s shoulder. “Nothing much...just wanted an excuse to get that kid off your hands.”
Jango stiffened, and glanced towards Boba’s bedroom. “That kid is my kid.” His voice had a warning edge to it.
The changeling flashed her trademark smug grin. She folded and refolded the towel on her lap as she said, “I know, I know. I was just kidding. Calm down a bit, okay? I just wanted to talk to you for a while, ‘Mom’, without Boba in the picture, you know?”
Jango seemed unconvinced.
“Hey, I love the kid just as much as you do. You know that.” Zam’s voice left its usually sarcastic tone. “He’s my little buddy.”
“Yeah,” said Jango, smiling lopsidedly. “I need to loosen up a bit.”
“D’you want me to take care of Squirt for a while? Then you can get more sleep, and get your work for Stellar done; he’s not a patient man, you know. My Mom would really like to see Boba, too. How about it?”
Jango considered it silently for a while, then shrugged. “Sure; why not? But just for a week or so...”
Zam put her hand on his reassuringly. “Of course.” She stood. “Does he have a bag of stuff he’ll need?”
With a nod, Jango rose. “I’ll go get it.”
The changeling followed the bounty hunter into Boba’s room, where she gathered up the baby things while Jango prepared his son to leave. Five minutes later, Boba was settled into his carrying basket, and Zam was once again standing in Jango’s doorway.
Zam paused, knowing she should say something. She set Boba’s basket down and gave Jango a quick hug. Glancing over Fett’s shoulder, she saw their reflection on the shiny durasteel wall: Jango, Zam, and baby Boba. What a cute family we make, she mused inwardly, then banished the thought. She and Jango could never be a family. Taking care of Boba would be closest she’d ever get to having a child of her own.
Jango deposited a kiss on top of her head, then handed Zam her helmet. “Bye,” he said quietly, “and thanks.”
“No problem.” Zam picked up the basket and baby bag, and started to head down the hallway towards her landing bay. Then she heard Fett’s voice, now its commanding bounty hunter tone, the voice that froze the blood of his victims.
“Zam, take good care of that kid.”
Zam nodded, then resumed her walk down the hall. She knew if Boba was ever so slightly bruised or scratched, Jango would not hesitate to inflict much worse on her. Yep, she thought, glancing down at Boba Fett, He finally cares about something other than credits. You might have ruined the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, kid, but if that was any example, you haven’t. She smiled.
Baby Boba - He Calls Me - Training - Zam