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The reflection of the lights danced decadently on the surface of his drink, a "tatooine sunset" accompanied by a slice of a citrus fruit from an outer rim planet, his game was to play “ the shy guy” (but not so shy) to attract the caring of his new goal; Dav Ketti. Human, close in age to Din, perhaps in his forties or thirties, tanned from birth, copper-toned hair, finely combed, a face that reflected the innocence of all those archivists and authenticator's, living the cycles locked between the warehouses and art pieces, his face; all framed with simple pair of glasses, the guy had astigmatic.   

His interests towards Dav Ketti? Business, of course, he perfectly faked the expressions that others wanted to see in him. Din wanted access to the painting and sculpture warehouses of the new Tatooine Museum of “Modern and External Art”. What was the expression Dav Ketti wanted on his face? The one of a captivated man, interested not only in his work.

Din was a renowned restorer and authenticator of art from Nevarro, it was common for him to be traveling from one place to another meeting other museums, the great museum "IG-11 of Art of the universe" in Nevarro had established its foundations at the beginning as a museum of small caliber, over the years it's galleries expanded and they gained popularity, especially for its vulcanized “mummies'' and its lava sculptures, with recurrence there were held huge art exhibitions from all over the galaxy, it had a small but valuable collection of art from a lot of places from the outer and mid rin, with artists such as Co-rot, Kw003, Cast'gliore, T’tyark, G0ya and some others. At the same time they had the greedy acquisitions of a couple of beautiful sculptures made by the artist Val'Quirin of Alderian origins, such as "the crying princess" and "the lost child" each and every one of them, had been evaluated and certified as true pieces, Din had studied them thoroughly.

 After an humble sip of his drink, Din smiled again with innocence and interest, laughing at the jokes of his companion, timidly reaching out his hands until the tips of his fingers brushed those of Dav Ketti. 

 "Seriously?" Din was able to speak without having to raise his voice. The music in the living room was exquisite, soft. It was obvious that the host did not want to disturb his guests with something strident.  

"That's right, but that's a story for another day, now I'd just like to talk a little more about you, I didn't expect to see you at the party!" Dav Ketti affirmed with a smile, drinking some more.

No, Din wasn't really invited to the party. He had contacted Dav Ketti formally through his contact from the museum Of Nevarro; they had perhaps a small interview formally tinted about his restoration work in the area and on nearby planets. But not only his job had brought Din there, but his other profession as well; Professional art thief. 

He had gotten his invitation to the "private evening at the Fett Palace" (Old Monastery Reconstructed) after sneaking in with another group of art critics. It was simple, nobody noticed him. 

And that's how Din lived, no one noticed him unless he wanted to be noticed. And when he found Dav Ketti among the other guests, he wanted to be noticed by him, he made himself noticeable. He'd ditched his usual bookworm outfit, just to wear his best tailored suit and a new pair of glasses, the ones he only wore for parties. He had even shaved a bit of his beard to look a little younger for his prey. And no doubt, when Dav saw him, Din captivated him from head to toe. 

"They invited me at the last minute, the friend of an acquaintance could not arrive on time and they did not wanted to waste the invitation, I fixed up as quickly as I could" one more lie. 

 "What are you saying, you look gorgeous" 

Din faked his most shyes expression, smiled, adjusting his glasses “nervously” and picked up his hand, waiting for Dav Ketti's response. 

"I'm not kidding, I hope I don't look messy among the guests." Din insisted. 

And Dav responded just as Din had planned. Bringing his hand closer to Din's, until he rested his palm on top of his, and gently caressed his skin. 

"I mean it, you look radiant"

Bingo. He had fallen into his first trap.  

"You're going to make me blush." Din knew exactly what to say, what to answer. Years working, taking care of his own back, he had managed to perfect that mask that he wore on his face and everyone thought it was his true face; his true self. But none of that was him. Any.

Dav just responded with another compliment, he was looking to make Din blush, and Din would fulfill his part of the role. He would thus achieve a point where perhaps he and Dav would exchange a caress or another, perhaps even a kiss, and with a few more steps, Din would be invited to the warehouses of the museum of modern and external art of Tatooine before their doors were opened, allowing him free access to all his paintings. 

If he wanted to steal and sell some counterfeits, he needed to know the likes of businessman Boba Fett, and from what Din knew; Dav Ketti was the one who ran that part of Fett's business, since the businessman ran too many companies, and if you asked Din, too much money. He personally thought that this museum was just a front for money laundering, but since Fett had reached out and collaborated with the hundred percent for the new water pipes, water refinery, and the new water multi-farm on Tatooine, Din imagined that after everything, the rulers of Tatooine didn't care if this was money laundering or not. 

Especially because Tatooine since then had grown both in economy and culture, so many old laws had been abolished, the Tuskens camps had been protected with new laws, it was even more normal now to find more and more Tusken outside their territories living together with the rest. Maybe Fett was not the whitest soul in the universe, but he was sure that the guy had had a lot to do with it, he even recognized several Tusken Clan leaders there at that party. 

 All united that night for a common reason; admire art. 

In the center of the room a beautiful Mandalorian Demarar had been accommodated, It was authentic, his mentor and buir Emily Armory was Mandalorian, and at twenty-three she had adopted him, not only as part of her family, but as part of the work group of the museum of Nevarro. Everything Din knew, he knew it because of her. 

That beautiful piece, a Demarar of an ancient warrior without a name, from his place in the lounge bar he could more than authenticate its origin, surrounded by more than five guards, and by the faces of some people, about four more undercover guards took care of it, the beautiful Figure of that demarar carved in the most exquisite Sundari porcelain, bathed in small but clear details of pure Beskar, shone in the center thus recalling the glories of that nameless warrior, the piece was not only worth its artistic meaning, the beskar continued to be highly valued. That's why he did not wear his armor in public, most likely he could be kidnapped and sold for pieces. He only used it when he was busy with his other job, but Din didn't always use it if possible. 

Fett not only wanted to tell the whole room that he was opening a new museum, but that he also had beautiful pieces, like that Mandalorian demarar; He also wanted to tell everyone in the room that he was stupidly rich. Any piece, demarar, salar, of Mandalorian origin, was traded in sky-high credit cifres, almost rivaling those lost pieces of Alderaan art.

When his drink was finished, without ordering another, he received one from the bartender's hands along with a small note on a thin gold flinsi, the letters BF were carved on its front, it seemed that the businessman marked everything with his initials.

"Someone sent you this," Said the bartender with a smile. 

Dav glanced over at the note and took his hands away from Din. 

The latter only opened the note to read its content, someone had invited him to the VIP area of the party. Who would have caught his eyes on him ? Din hoped it wasn't any big shot, he didn't know how much he could enchant any of those with his performance. 

The absence of Dav's hands was clear to Din. “I think someone wants me somewhere else, but could we meet later? I would like to talk about other things with you" Din asked with his most flirtatious smile, his innocent tone leaving open the possibility of seeing each other, he hoped Dav would take the bait.

But it was not like that, Dav Ketti had gotten off the hook, he was a fish that had grown legs and had left the lake walking away from Din. His posture, his expression, all indicated that he did not wanted to approach Din again outside of the professional environment. 

"Maybe, I don't think so, I'll just be in the museum office." Dav even sounded cold and monotone.

Fuck, what had happened?

Before Din could further process everything that was happening in front of him, a hand landed on his shoulder, turning he found himself face-to-face with one of Fett's guards. 

"We were sent to escort you to the VIP area."

Din just smiled. He said his goodbyes to Dav trying to still maintain his facade, and left with the guard, carrying in his hand both the note and the drink they had given him. 

And what was this drinking? A kind of spicy juice, his taste buds were fascinated by the first sip, it had just a hint of alcohol, whoever had sent it did not want to get him drunk. Din was cautious anyway, not taking any more of that sip. 

In the VIP area, he met more familiar faces of his other work environment; art dealers, art certifiers, and dukes and marquises with enough money to spend on inflated art pieces, but to them, Din was just a stranger brought to this area.

Inside he was received by a beautiful woman, her hair was black, loose with a small braid adorned with beautiful pearls, her dress was carved to this body, conservative, of a beautiful color that varied with the tone of light that was reflected above, blue, sometimes a tan orange, a blood orange, Din ordered the cards in his head, he did not know if he could enchant this beautiful woman to achieve his goal of the night. In her eyes he could see that she could hunt Din and hold him in her hand, not the other way around. He swallowed hard and smiled. 

"I am Fennec Shand, I will take you with my Boss." Even her voice affirmed Din's thoughts.

He just nodded, where was she taking him now? He tried to refresh his memory, no, he did not remember that name, at least Din had never read it among the auctioneers, nor was she a buyer, whoever Fennec Shand was, it was not about anyone who was in his usual circles. 

It turns out that Fennec took him to the bottom of that area, passing through beautiful water sources, between conversations of royalty from other planets, false laughter filling the environment with soft music, until taking him to a private balcony, he could smell the lush new oasis of the Fett palace from there. Fennec did not open the curtain that separated him from the balcony.

"He waits for you, come in"

"Thank you" Din smiled, masking his fear expertly. He was a professional thief, a long career supported him, and until now no one had ever discovered him. Today would not be that day. 

He opened the curtains, careful not to spill his drink. Night fell slowly from the horizon, a group of comfortable armchairs were arranged on the balcony, in one corner a small bar and a bartender were at the disposal of those present.

Boba Fett was talking to a Tusken Leader, they both turned to see him.

"So far, our conversation could be continued later my friend, my visit came, take care" Fett said his goodbye with a smile on his face while signing. He was identical to his father Jango.

"You too, my friend" The Tusken Leader exchanged a fraternal gesture with the businessman, and with a respectful greeting passed by Din, who quickly responded with one. 

He knew Boba didn't miss that when his smile increased.  

How had Din managed to get the attention of Boba Fett nothing more and nothing less?

"Come in, make yourself comfortable, I wouldn't want to have you standing there any longer"

"Mr Fett" Din thought, best to act professionally. He took a seat close to but at the same time away from the businessman.

But Fett got closer to Din "Please call me Boba" and with a wave of his hand, Boba made it clear that “Mr Fett” was very formal. 

What… did Fett—Boba want from him? Had he found out? Is it— 

"Din Djarin, it's a pleasure to meet you Boba"

"Your work precedes you, Din, can I call you Din, right?" 

He nodded. He wasn't sure he could handle Boba between his fingers like he could have with Dav Ketti.

The conversation flowed from then on with Boba leading the talk. Din weighed the possibilities in his mind, Boba was not hostile to him so surely he only knew him as Din Djarin the art restorer and authenticator. Not like the thief. 

Another little fear arose in his mind, did Boba Fett want to convince him of something else? He knew that if Boba exerted force on him, he would be trapped and with no way out. 

But the businessman insisted that they only wanted to chat, that the drinks on the balcony did not contain alcohol and that Din should call him only Boba .

"Believe it or not, art fascinates me" Confessed Boba.

Din raised an eyebrow, remaining polite throughout the exchange. And preparing himself mentally not only to have to hear boring business topics, but also now to listen to another smug talk about what his tastes surely were. 

How wrong Din was.

To his enormous (stratospheric) surprise, he and Boba Fett shared very similar views. And although Boba was not a scholar about brushstrokes, dates and artistic movements, Boba Fett knew what he was talking about, about the feelings that the works conveyed, about their stories. 

He spoke of the Terran movement of the Rylothians as if he had read one of those lectures that Din read in his spare time. 

He praised the rough strokes of paintings from Lothal's and how each one with its simplicity conveyed so much emotion. 

Of the new movement Pe'kvan ("that word has no meaning in Mando'a" Boba had said, and Din had not been able to feel more identified) which lately was a boom in Mandalore. And again, they had both agreed that was not even remotely a style that pleased them, the pe’kvan had been born in the most petulant way, cradled by the Marquises of Mandalore.

Another surprise for Din was learning that Boba Fett was a Mandalorian. Jango Fett was known for his legacy as an entrepreneur, as a mastermind who moved pieces with strategy and knowledge, but neither Emily nor the news from Mandalore claimed him as part of their own. 

Boba's Mando'a was impeccable. Din also promised to stay formal.

Boba's hands sought his for a moment and he smiled at him. Not only was Boba smart, he was handsome. His skin was tanned in color, some old scars on his face and neck showed that perhaps he was a feared warrior (get a hold of yourself Djarin) the scars on a Mandalorian were a symbol of sensuality and Boba was overflowing with it. 

His calloused fingers caressed his delicate artist's hands. 

"I didn't bring you here for this, but, I know you're an authenticator"

"yes, that's right" 

"Can you see this for me?"

Din raised an eyebrow again, and Boba received a small case from the bartender. When opened, its contents were nothing more than a pile of no more than seven sketches. Din, who had come prepared to look in depth at other works and not this, took out of his suit pocket his small magnifying glass and took the sketches carefully. 

They were sketches by a renowned Lothal artist. His work used to consist of beautiful chubby Loth-cats, as well as the humans and other people he drew always conveyed that chubby characteristic to them.

He analyzed in silence and after several minutes. He handed Boba the sketches again. 

"They are beautiful, the lines and strokes, divine  without a doubt, but I must be honest with you, they are all… fake"

Boba looked at him with interest and Din not knowing how to respond to that. Took one of the sketches again and began to explain. 

"To begin with, the signature is bad, this artist usually makes the E inwards, instead here they are outside, the lines of the sketches are measured almost by rule, whoever did this knew at what point to stop, see the point of the pencil here?" Din pointed delicately "It is hardly noticeable but the fluidity of the line is completely lost" Din was sincere, and of course, hoping that Boba did not react badly To the news. 

Instead, he took the sketches and put them back.

"I was afraid of it," said Boba.

"Don't be so hard on the seller, just claim your money back, I hope you didn't spend too much on them" Din smiled at Boba. And he smiled back at him. 

"Honest, kind, professional ... What else do you hide in yourself, Din?" The question froze him, but the other continued speaking. "I'd like to get to know you more, would you like to have breakfast with me tomorrow? I'll take you to see a new place on Tatooine so you can see some new works" 

That interested Din.  

...

Fett's private escort was by Din the next day at his hotel. The beautiful and deadly woman; Fennec Shand, was waiting for him outside the vehicle that was carrying Boba.

Inside, his host greeted him with a smile and a caress on his hands. Something in Din told him that Boba was flirting with him, and if so, Din had cards to handle that matter. He kept his cool, ignoring the exquisite cologne that Fett was wearing and how that elegant shirt wore two buttons unbuttoned, revealing more scars and a fat muscle strong abdomen (Think straight Djarin).

 Fett took him to a restaurant called "The Oasis Moon "(sponsored by Fett as well) their conversation at the table left Din with much to think about, everything Boba said he meant it, Din studied his expression looking for flaws that would betray a performance or a lie. But indeed, the man was enjoying the moment with him (Well, Din too) and why lie to himself? Talking to someone about what he was most passionate about there in the middle of this exuberant and refreshing place, was without a doubt a luxury that he rarely enjoyed. 

 When finishing, Boba said that he wanted to take him to see some works, Din was excited to know that his goal had been achieved. Dav Ketti only served part of his usefulness, as now Boba Fett himself was taking him safely to the new museum. 

 But when the vehicle turned onto a different street and nothing in Fett's indicated that they were going to stop, Din rethought his plans. Where were they taking him?

Within minutes Fett explained that he wanted to take him to a more private place. 

 ...

 Fett was not only an admirer of good art, he had a private museum in the palace, deep down, where before the catacombs existed, a gallery with a new temperature system, so that each piece will be preserved at its best.

Fett's thick but gentle hand to the touch led him through each of the workpieces, while Din memorized the route, the passages, the stairs, the amount of security the place had, the guards posted and of course, the works present there. From beautiful ancient oil paintings depicting battles that had occurred eons ago. To even beautiful and exquisite ancient murals. 

 " Salar Mandokar " Din muttered. Ecstatic to see head-on with mandalorian works that according to his books and records, were lost, destroyed, or kept in private collections such as the extensive that Fett owned. 

 Boba snorted in a pleasant tone beside him. 

 "You are full of Mandokar..."

 Every fiber of Din trembled at that analysis of his person (Djarin get a hold!!) 

 "To what family do you belong to?" Boba didn't ask. He was sure that in front of him was another Mandalorian.

 Din thought of lying, of denying his origin as he did a thousand times at work to hide his identity and keep a low profile. But it was so rare to live with others like him. 

 "To house Armory, Clan Mudhorn"

 "Mmmm" 

 Boba outlined the lines of the outfit that Din was wearing that day. And he smiled again. 

 "House Merel, Clan Vhett" Affirmed Boba.

Din did know those names. And it made more sense in his head. An error in the translation of the clans, of the surnames, or a way to hide their origin? Din did not insisted, he kept that information next to the type of paintings that Boba seemed to prefer, luckily Din was familiar with many of the artists, recreating and falsifying them would be a simple job for him. 

 But it all came to a halt in his mind when Fett led him to a different painting. His measurements devoured the figure of Din, this canvas was undoubtedly restored, and its contents; an androgynous figure, wearing what looked like damaged war clothing, surrounded by dogs, walking towards... back to home, that was a house!, he knew this painting! There were lectures on the meaning of it, was the figure walking towards a town or a house? Did they return defeated from the war or did they return to home happy? Vague descriptions about it, a very old photo, it was the painting of an author of the outer rim, famous for illustrating landscapes alien to his own land. It was believed destroyed, stolen, it was even said that the author himself had disposed of it.

 But no. Din had not noticed it's second nature to take control of him, since he already had his magnifying lens on and his silk gloves in hand, analyzing in depth everything that the painting had to offer him.

 For years he had thought about this work, about its meaning, about how the concept haunted him into dreams somehow. The concept about belonging to a place, to a home…. 

 “I thought, this piece was lost…” Din admitted in awe.

 " Do you like it?"

 Fett's voice at his side snapped him out of his concentration.

 "I have read about this painting so many times in my life, I never believed ... to see it in person" Din stroked the original and well-preserved frame of the painting with his gloves. It was real, he did not need to make an analysis of this painting, of his oils, there were things that a counterfeiter could not recreate, the antiquity of this painting preceded it. 

 "It can be yours, if you ask," Boba murmured in a pleased tone.

 That again brought him out of his trance, what the hell was he implying? Clearly offended Din replied.

 "I don't know what you're implying, but I won't demean myself in any way for this Art piece."

 Apparently that was hilarious for Fett, as his laugh was equal parts warm and threatening. There, deep in that gallery, Din felt something of fear again. 

 "No, no, I don't intend to buy any of your favors with this painting, I'm not going to ask for anything in return for it, don't you know who I am?" Boba commented with a smile. 

 "Boba Fett the businessman" Did he have to know anything else? 

 " You do not know who I am…." Something in Boba's voice betrayed fascination. His expression had completely changed, as if Din was a Cin Vhetin in front of him. That was an advantage for the thief. 

 Din removed his hands from the canvas completely.

 "Maybe you've heard of my father's other name" Fett continued.

"No, maybe not" Din thought not, Jango Fett, it's the only thing he knew about Boba's father, until just yesterday he had learned of his Mandalorian origin. What else should he know? 

 His gaze evaded by seconds Boba, getting lost in the beautiful brushstrokes of the painting, how many stories room inside that art piece?He could not think of it as if it were just another number of credits, not with that piece, Boba drew his attention with just simple words. 

 "I am Dra'kyrayc hodar, I've stolen this painting " 

Dra'kyrayc hodar, the thug, assassin, gangster, spice and gun dealer, THAT Dra'kyrayc hodar. 

He was extremely well known in black market auctions, even At the official auctions he attended as only «Din Djarin» the authenticator and restorer. A number of stories were told about him. Boba, the Dra'kyrayc hodar had been stabbed, shot blasted from behind, drowned, thrown into a sarlacc pit, kidnapped and tortured, and even the stories said that they had poisoned him, but he did not die; gaining his name as Dra'kyrayc.

 The undying devil.    

For seconds he felt the room temperature drop suddenly, Din was not afraid of many things, his life had been difficult, and his other work entailed risks. Boba was not the first gangster he knew in his life, maybe not the first one who he robbed. But Boba wasn't just any mobster, Boba was damn Dra'kyrayc hodar. 

In that moment he had lost control of his face mask, for Fett had sensed his stillness, his fear. And he approached touching his arms with great care, as if he could break it.

"You really ... didn't know who I was." His words confirmed the facts. Din just nodded.

 "No" Would he steal from this man? Din thought as he tried to collect his thoughts.

 "I really want to meet you, I saw you the first time in the Museum's offices, and, there is something in you that catches my attention, I want you to take this painting, it is a gift for you"

 "No, I cannot accept it" Din insisted, still not daring to take Boba's hands off him. Just thinking, scheming, devising. 

 "Come on, I want it to be a courtship gift, I'm interested ... I want to court you"

That was another cold blow to Din, Boba did really looked interested, Could he steal the Dra'kyrayc hodar? Could he steal from Boba Fett?

He took a deep breath, turning to look at the painting. He could accept it. 

"You're going to force me to date you?"

"I know my fame precedes me, but no, I want this to be an opportunity for you to meet me. I know I'm not good, but neither am I the devil itself" Boba joked with a smile. 

Maybe Din could do the best job of his days. Maybe Boba would never notice that he was robbed. Perhaps it would be the greatest feat in his entire career. 

He moved his hand to caress Boba's palms with his fingers.

Din promised himself at the time that he could handle Boba Fett.

"Okay, I will set the date for our next meeting," Din answered confidently. 

A gallant and flirtatious smile showed on Boba Fett's face, it was as if everything around him framed his figure and his face and made him a beautiful and majestic Demara carved perhaps in Sundari marble, he could even think of the description of the sculpture in the notebooks. 

<< 20.ABY Dra'kyrayc hodar holding his hopes in his sleeve, 1:1 scale sundari marble, is kept in Boba Fett's private collection >>

  “That pleases me, Din”

 Maybe Din could steal from the devil itself. 

/-/-/-/-/-/

 The Kel Dor next to him sputtered when he saw him inflate the price of that art piece more than intended, " what?" Din gestured with his hands at him. Plo, that's how the kel dor was called, Plo was from that tiny group of friends that Din had made using his alter ego the beskar helmet.

 " I told you to inflate the price not to get it out of my reach" replied The kel dor to his side with his hands. 

 Din simply lowered the shoulders. These things used to happen at clandestine auctions. He was wearing all his armor today, they had checked him from head to toe and they had blocked the weapons of his vambraces with small rings on his wrists. Despite the fact that the clandestine auction sites were neutral places, no one trusted anyone and they always searched for weapons. 

Between those times he had met the Kel dor, and something had clicked on the two of them, becoming friends. A thief friend of another thief, strange but true. 

" Next time," Din replied.

The auction continued as normal. Din inflating the prices of his own fake pieces and the ones of other real art pieces just for the pleasure of watching the Marquises buy them at such exorbitant prices.

 " Have you heard the rumors yet?" Plo next to him spoke signing.

 " Which of many?"

  "The Dra'kyrayc hodar is here today, I even heard he was in a good mood."

Then there were two reactions in Din's body to those words, first, how could Boba not be happy? If the last time they had seen each other had been just a few hours, he had said goodbye to him after a kiss on his cheek, as if they were both a couple of school boyfriend's before Din gave a cheap excuse and flew to the auction, second He had never seen Boba directly at the auctions, only his name as Dra'kyrayc hodar or one of his agents, sometimes even Dav Ketti. 

A thunderous pounding occurred in his chest, his racing heart out of control. He had promised himself to be formal, to stay formal since the first time he decided to rob Boba. But with every encounter he and Boba had, it got harder and harder.

Less when Boba knew what to say, what to do, he kissed his fingers and his wrist, and they spent hours talking about what they liked the most. Even Boba began to talk about his work with Din, sowing in his mind the possibility of being able to open up with him and tell him the truth, his other job.

Steal from him? Din kept that idea for maybe three more cycles, accepting expensive gifts (an old jewelry collection, four "lost" paintings) but then Boba started giving him information. Legitimate and official information that Din could use as a restorer. And later as "the helmet of beskar" could twist.

Maybe, maybe, he was falling for Boba.

The kel dor tapped his helmet

"I'm talking to you! Pay attention! I can't believe they consider you the best thief" Plo looked at him sternly.

"I was wondering which piece I will choose to inflate, and then inflate the others, maybe ... the one from V'borak's red collection" Din lied and quickly changed the topic of conversation.  

The Kel dor glanced with interest at the pieces arranged on the auction podium, and folded his arms elegantly in his black hooded robe.  

"I like those pieces, DON'T inflate them much" It was the Kel dor's way of agreeing with him. "If you weren't my friend beskar head, I would have stolen you minutes ago" joked the Kel dor again. 

Din laughed a little. The voice modulator in his helmet completely altered his voice.

"You wouldn't, you like me" Din said.

"I'm not going to inflate your ego" The old Kel Dor suppressed a laugh and kept his arms crossed. 

... 

He was escaping the auction with Plo hot on his heels. He already had what he wanted in his hands. A beautiful collection of Fass-borga fractals. 

Din had also started stealing jewelry with more frequency now. He used to do it, but not as insistently as now, counterfeiting jewelry was a bit more difficult, but… Plo was an expert creating fake pieces. No detail was overlooked, and being the kel dor that he was, he taught Din his art, so that one day he would be the one doing it.

Din laughed always and said in one of those private times with the Kel Dor "You have not been a Jedi before this?" And it only made the Kel Dor laugh heartily. The attention to detail, the little pieces, the Jedi were said to be beautiful jewelers (And mechanics) in their spare time, which was the way they had kept their temples standing for many years before the republic. But those were already stories of the past. 

After a last gesture, Plo and the helmet of beskar parted between the enormous corridors of that building. Din made sure the old man escaped unseen before going his own way. 

But he didn't expected someone to forcefully pull him into the darkness. He struggled with his captor. Kicking and hitting free. But an extra set of hands took him down like a porg tied up. 

They dragged him into a brighter hallway. A figure in an orange helmet had his wrists seized with handcuffs. A head-to-toe look confirmed that they were not carrying weapons, they were wearing the same blocking bracelets. 

Out of the shadows appeared the other figure, wearing Mandalorian armor like his, but green… with red vambraces. 

Din had heard the stories. Hoping he was wrong, his heart began to pound. 

"You have no manners? Say hello to the Dra'kyrayc hodar" It was a woman, oh, not just any, the figure with the orange helmet was Fennec Shand.

 "Don't waste your time with him." Boba's voice came from the modulator on the Dra'kyrayc hodar's green helmet, rough and cold, no sentiments on it. 

He walked over to Din and pressed his finger to his chest. Carefully sinking his beskar heart.

 "You have something that interests me, but, as you can see, today I feel nice, so I'll play nice," Boba said. He clicked his tongue and the woman began to go through each pocket of Din until she took out some small boxes with the beautiful fractals in each one, six in all.

A velvety laugh trickled from the throat of Boba Fett, the dreaded Dra'kyrayc hodar, while taking four fractals and leaving to the Helmet of Beskar only two. 

 "Don't try anything stupid," Boba growled as he walked away with his companion. 

When there was no one in the corridor other than him, the handcuffs that were restraining him came loose. Din ran until he disappeared at the other end of the hall into the darkness. 

 He related his encounter to Plo, and the elder only claimed that he had gotten out of it alive just because the Dra'kyrayc was in a good mood. 

 Din just thought that he was fucked up. He had suppressed the idea thinking he was a pervert, but he had liked knowing that tiny part of Boba. 

... 

Three cycles later, Boba Fett and Din Djarin met again in Hoth, sharing a hot drink on a heated balcony, watching the snow fall from their places. 

 Boba insistently kissed his wrist and filled his ear with sweetness that melted Din, because he had never been treated that way ever in his life, he repeated to himself that he deserved those moments, he could be worthy of them. 

Fett broke away from him only to hand him a box. 

"It's for you Mesh'la" Boba finished kissing his cheek. While Din just thought they had been dating for too long and hadn't kissed him on the lips yet.

"What is it?" Din asked, carefully examining the box. 

"Open it" 

Din was silent when he saw the four remaining fractals, arranged in a beautiful case made specifically for them.

"I stole these from the damned beskar helmet, they deserved to be in better hands" Boba muttered while taking a sip of his hot drink. 

Din breathed calmly. Hearing the gears in his mind.

"You don't like the beskar's helmet ?" He inquired as he continued his facade of calm, examining the fractals that he himself had verified to be true. 

"No, no in the least" Boba spoke sincerely. "But I was nice to the bastard, as you've asked me to be these days."

His fingers released the fractals and carefully placed them in their box. 

"Thanks Boba, you didn't have to"

"You deserve it. For you I would do many things cyare, if you asked me, I would even kill the guy for you" 

Din could not tell his secret to Boba. 

/-/-/-/

Din wakes up not knowing where he was, he does not recognize the white walls or the led lights that only made everything seem brighter with his tired eyes.

He tries to move but a stabbing pain in his left shoulder causes him to hiss and fall back onto the bed.

A memory comes to his head, burned by a blaster: He had been shot. The Imperial Guards discovered that he was attempting to rob their premises and opened fire to stop him.

He was lucky to leave the party, he was lucky to meet ...

Din feels the air escaping from his lungs as he remembers who helped him out. He makes a second attempt to get out of that bed, already aware of his shoulder pain to get a better view of where he was and how to get out.

It was clear that he was in some kind of clinic, private by the look of the place, and to his bad luck, there was only one visible way out.

To make the situation “worse", Boba Fett was sitting in a chair by the door. With a hard expression on his face, crossed arms and looking directly at Din, as if aware that in the face of carelessness, Din would try to escape.

The thief just sighs, defeated, lying back on his bed. This was his end.

 "Din"

"Hello, Boba"

"We need to talk"

 Boba's voice sounded sharp, with no room for games or attempts to divert the conversation. There was no way to escape the room, and with his shoulder injured, he had no chance to outwit Boba. Din felt like a child, caught stealing cookies before dinner and just sighs, resigned.

 "I know"

 Silence settles in the room and Din looks down, feeling unable to look directly into the mobster's eyes. He had lied to him and he knew the consequences he will face. However, the fear of a torturous death was outweighed by the uncomfortable feeling of deception. As if he owed only the infinite truth to Boba and he had failed him.

He had no idea where to start, but to his relief, Boba decided that he would be in control of the conversation.

 "Since when are you doing this?"

 "There are many Since when with me; Since when do I steal? Since when am I the Helmet of beskar ? ... Since when have I deceived you?" 

He doubted that some kind of explanation could exonerate him. Why didn't Boba let him bleed out on the way? Why didn't he handed him over to the Imperials? Why didn't he take out his blaster and shoot him in the head, to finish it all off?

 "Why don't you try to surprise me, cyar'ika? We have all the day"

 Din gulped at that affectionate nickname. The last time he had heard that nickname, he had felt his stomach flutter with excitement, today it sounded like a threat, indicating that if he made another mistake, he would regret it.

So it was better to sing like a canary, Din took a deep breath and started talking. "I was an orphan from a very young age. Before I was seven years old I was already on the streets, so I knew how to steal before I could read. I grouped myself with other children who lived the same way as me” Din clarified “We were not a gang, we stole in order to eat and get ahead. In fact, almost all of us were able to study until basic school” Another pause, Din wetted his lips “And on a trip to the local museum in Nevarro, I fell in love with art and decided that I wanted to dedicate myself to that."

 "Let me guess, When you finished basic studies, you decided to apply to fine arts but you were not accepted." There was an ironic tone to Boba's voice.

 Din smiles and just nods.

"But unlike how you think, I did not started a world war against rejection." There was a sense of satisfaction hearing Boba snort, as if he was avoiding laughing at his comment.

 Maybe that was a victory.

 "I was an amateur, but I was decent at drawing. I would even say I was good” Din took another pause, remembering his past and the memories those carried “But the school believed that I could not finance my studies, so I was rejected. That devastated me; I would have resigned myself knowing that my drawings were not enough, but whether my social status was the deciding factor?" 

 Din sighs as he shakes his head. That had happened almost twenty years ago and he was still frustrated by it. "Anyway, my family and I, those street kids, continued to take care of children who had no one, so I decided to work to have a more stable income than just occasional robberies. I found a job as a general assistant in the Nevarro museum I fell in love with, there I met Emily Armory, who adopted me and my family, as dictated by her Mandalorian roots and in less than three years, I was already supporting with small restorations: That was the beginning of many things ".

 Din noticed how Boba seems to settle into his seat better and spread his legs, in a more comfortable position.

He had his full attention.

"Go on. I didn't tell you to stop." Insisted Boba.

 Din feels his mouth dry, but nods before continuing.

"I learned too many things as a restorer: types of old paintings, canvas materials, brush strokes, factors of time and aging, with so many works by different artists in the museum, I dedicated myself to studying their styles. It was easy for me to recreate simple works and I started selling some, under an alias signature and admitting they were replicas. Easy money, you know?” Din sighs a little exhausted by his injury “I helped support my family and paid for my own supplies. Until once, a distracted and ignorant mid rin tourist thought my works were very beautiful and from a famous artist from a hundred years ago. He bought three and he paid me too well, and in that moment the idea came alone ".

 Boba got up from his seat and walked through the clinic room, circling his bed. Maybe the mobster had already gotten bored of his story?

His eyes did not leave him. So Din is surprised when Boba gets a bottle of water from one of the cabinets; a mini fridge, next to his bed, to hand it out to Din.

With some hesitation, he takes the bottle and places it on his lap, still unopened.

"You decided to make better replicas and sell them on the black market, right?" It was the conclusion Boba reached.

As assertive as ever.

 "It took me almost two years to dare to sell my works on the black market. I used that time to study two artists that I imitated: their signatures, the threads of their canvases, the colors that were used in their time, region and planet. Everything I imagined that could disprove myself I studied it… I still remember the first painting I sold; A falsified by Ai-Maycke. I showed up at the meeting point and the buyer had brought an art guarantor. I remember that I almost threw up. The guarantor was a Zabrak, he checked it completely, with special lenses, even with ultraviolet light and a corrosive chemical to see if the paint reacted with the correct time ... ".

 "… And he said it was authentic," Boba concluded, sitting on the edge of the bed, to see Din's features.

"And he said it was authentic," Din echoed. 

Boba almost smiled tenderly seeing how Din looked excited in his own way, that even his eyes seemed to sparkle at such a sweet memory.

"I sold that painting for twenty-seven thousand credits. Much more than what I made in a full cycle… And in seven weeks I sold another replica of the same artist for twenty-nine thousand credits. Over the time, I perfected my replicas even more and to date no one has discovered me"

Boba makes an affirmative noise, as if meditating on everything said, taking advantage of the closeness, he places a hand on Din's knee.

"Since when do you have the alter ego?" His voice is soft. Not pushing so hard makes Din tell him more than he's asked for. Maybe he had been saving those feelings for a while and he just wanted to vent.

"Six years. It was by accident, I entered a private collection. I did not want to steal anything ... I just wanted to see a lot of paintings in depth. To see if one or more of the series was missing, take advantage of the missing one and sell that number in my forgeries. I underestimated the security and they had me on video. I thought it was the end of my business, but I was wearing my beskar helmet. I had decided to wear the armor that day. They never knew who I was, the video quality was bad, and they did not manage to distinguish the color of my armor, and since I did not steal anything, they did not investigate thoroughly” Din smiled shyly “Although my video circled the entire network of art collectors and dealers".

 "That gave you an alibi, right?"

 "It was accidental, but yes... A rumor of an art thief opened the market. Everyone believed that many original works were stolen and were circulating on the black market, sales soared. I had to keep the Helmet of beskar active, using that alias gave me access to more auctions"

The hand on his knee goes up, gently squeezing the thigh, slightly confusing Din, who saw that hand and then saw the owner.

What was going to happen to him?

"Since when did you decide that you were going to rob me?" The question was so blatant, that Din just limited himself to a cold sweat.

"Boba, I'm sorry ... I never expected things to change this way"

The hand on his thigh clenched tightly, surely leaving the marks of his fingers on the skin.

"Answer the damn question Djarin!" 

Din freezed on the bed, clenching the bed sheet with his hands turned into fists. In all these months, Boba had never raised his voice to him. He was scared, knowing the unkind side of the mobster first hand finally.

"About a year ago…" His eyes only see his lap and the still closed water bottle. "When I went to your party as a museum envoy, it was to see your tastes and your style. I like to meet my future clients. Knowing what I can hook them up with. Minimizing failure ..."

A soft " Mmhm " escapes from Boba's throat, while softening the grip on his thigh, depositing a relaxing caresses. As if he were tactfully apologizing for that aggressive episode.

"You are so smart, princess" Din is surprised by Boba's changeable attitude. "This is all… so convenient" the mobster finished.

And Boba finally laughs, as if this is all a practical joke. As if he had planned it days in advance and everything happened as he wanted. 

Din was confused and seeing Boba smile like he always did with him just made him want to back off the bed. There was no longer a trace of his bad mood, or as if he wanted to kill him with a glance.

This was the Boba he knew, the one who was so direct at trying to flirt with him and pampered him in every way.

"... Convenient?" Din muttered.

The hand that was on his thigh goes up a little higher, causing Din to blush. Trying to understand Boba was too complicated. Luckily for him, the hand deviates, to take that bottle on his lap, Boba opens it and drinks from it.

"As a person, I like you; Din Djarin. I knew I was not wrong to look at you. You are intelligent, attractive, interesting ... you had an I-don't know-what since I saw you at the museum officines and in the party, since then I couldn't take my eyes off you. Now I know what it is about: Will and purpose, Mandokar, back then I just got it right. I love that in you"

Boba gets out of the bed, to stand and walk to face Din.

"But still, I was interested in that alter ego of yours ... I wanted to twist them, I wanted to break them and edge them so that they would work only for me. I wanted them at my feet to do business. What can I say? I also love art ... But I killed two one-stone birds. It turns out that those two people are just one"

That statement only gave Din the chills. He was in a situation that screamed danger at him, but he couldn't move… an instinctive part of him was captivated by Boba.

Perhaps it had been months since he had lost that flirting game that the two of them had.

"Stay by my side, as my lover, as my business partner. As a society, we will earn a lot of credits. As my lover, I promise that you will not need anything, I will die and kill for you. What do you say?" Boba places two fingers on Din's chin, causing him to look up, and his brown eyes could only see him.

That's how demanding he was.

Din licks his lips before answering.

"If I say no, will I have to return your gifts?" Said Din smiling playful.

"Heh… They are yours, mesh'la. But I bet, my artist, you will accept my proposal." Boba moves his fingers up, stroking his thumb and index finger over Din's soft lower lip. Causing a sigh from him.

He was screwed up. He had long ago fallen under Fett's spell.

"I don't bet when I know I have a losing hand." Both men smile at those words. Boba as a predator and Din enjoying the view. "I accept your deal, Fett."

 Boba leans in to possess those sweet lips.

Ah, Din had never enjoyed closing a deal so much.

/-/-/-/

Din was wrapped in gorgeous gems, and a beautiful custom made suit. Fett carried him by the waist, sometimes he would stop in the middle of his walk to kiss each of his fingers with the greatest fervor in the world. Making Din laugh, melt, and feel delighted; in love, just like Fett himself.

It had been maybe three years now, and his relationship with Boba Fett was totally official, there were photos of them in the holo-magazines, telling their humble story « "Simple art authenticator steals the heart of the wealthy businessman Fett" » they had called him trophy husband so many times that he found it funny, because they weren't very far from reality. 

Boba treated Din with all the tenderness and dedication in the world, in public and in private. He pampered him on levels he had never imagined. And He supported him with everything when he donned his Beskar helmet. 

After all, rumor had it that the beskar helmet was working with the Dra'kyrayc hodar , sales had risen, the demand for more pieces, more jewels had grown. Boba had arranged a new study for Din in his palace, not just so that he could continue to make his forgeries. If not so that for Din could finally sell his personal works, under his own name. 

At first he believed that it was the fame of being Boba Fett's boyfriend that had made him sell art pieces, but when people came up to the beskar helmet to get stolen art pieces from Din Djarin, he knew that his works were valued for his talent as well. . Boba insisted that from the beginning they had been valued for their talent, because they were beautiful and conveyed the value of their lines with a glance. That warmed his chest. 

 There was a little party down the hall, but Boba and Din were walking into Fett's personal meeting room. They had called urgently to discuss a "small" matter at hand, nothing urgent according to what her fiancé said. Well, the party was about that, to make their soon marriage official. 

But work was work and they couldn't neglect it. Perhaps they had moved the pyke hive very insistently these days. 

They were greeted by a group of men in suits of different races, some were smoking, others were talking, each and every one of them were allies of Fett, invited to the party that was taking place downstairs, but again; work was work.

 A Duros, Din knew him; Kymer D'aro that's how he called himself, crossed his path with Boba.

 "Fett, what is your trophy husband doing here?" Insisted the Duros.

 Din released himself without being seen from Boba. 

"Shut up, Kymer," growled Boba. You had to have skin to speak ill of Din in front of the boss. But clearly Kymer had one, but needed a brain that was clearly lacking. 

"Aren't your nails going to break or get your suit dirty? This is a meeting of wor—" He couldn't finish the sentence when Boba was already pulling him from his jacket. 

But Kymer D'aro didn't expect the point of a blaster from behind him to be pressed against his spine. He had underestimated the trophy husband. Din pressed his blaster and elegantly adjusted his glasses. 

"Be careful of what you say D'aro, I know how to protect myself" 

 Boba let go of Kymer, and he stumbled a bit until he was away from the couple. Whose approached again to share a sweet kiss on the lips, without going unnoticed by anyone as Boba caressed Din's rear. 

They all took their seats, the couple sitting next to each other, intertwining their fingers under the table. 

 ...

Before it had been the pykes, now Din and Boba were leaving the party because a seller they had been waiting for many days had finally visited Boba. 

It would have been dispatched, if it weren't for Boba who wanted to increase his collection of Fass-borga fractals, and also wanted to acquire another set of antique necklace and earrings, apparently they had been from a princess in Naboo, before the fall of the Republic. And the image of Din wearing one of those jewels surely excited Boba. 

"People are going to think we sneaked out to kriff" Din muttered close to Boba, slowly climbing the steps to the second floor. 

" Really?" Boba asked with interest. 

"You don't know how many palaces I have entered during parties, and how many marquises I have met kriffin in the middle of an isolated aisle" 

At that Boba laughed, and when they were on the second floor, his fiancé stopped, to kiss his hand, his wrist, climb to his arm to his shoulder and kiss his neck until Din moaned under his mouth. 

"Maybe when we finish the sale, we should follow the lead of those fine marquises." His voice was deep, intoxicating, and promising. 

"I think so, it wouldn't be wrong to follow the example, Boba" 

They laughed and continued on their way. 

When Din met the seller it took him a few minutes to remember who he was. He was one of the directors of the art school he wanted to enter, he used another last name, but his face was unforgettable for Din. Surely the teacher did not remember who Din was, better for him. 

The seller had brought his own authenticator, but Boba insisted that Din, his professional authenticator, review the pieces. The set of jewelry from the princess of Naboo was absolutely authentic, Din checked them with absolute care and did the quick tests he could, Boba had provided the tools. 

 But when Din disposed to see the fractals, it was more than evident that they were false, with his knowledge from Emily and what Plo had taught him, it was easy to identify them. Faced with such a discovery, he decided to verify the princesses jewels again, but everything coincided with them, even the details of its last owner, who claimed to be a distant relative of that princess. 

But the fractals… 

Even the data on its last owner and residence was bad. It was a horrible forgery, at first glance maybe it could have fooled Boba for a few minutes, a less experienced eye would have bought the lie, but not him. 

"Who do you think you're playing with? This is fake" asked Din annoyed, setting aside the fractals. 

"How dare you accuse me of forgery!" Said the seller. 

The authenticator did not utter a word. He simply weighed his weight on one foot and then the other, Din could read the lie in his expression, the nervous at bay, waiting to devour him, clearly these fractals were fake. Boba's presence behind Din was comforting, he continued talking. 

"It failed the chemical tests, the details are rough when seen in the lens, and they do not have time stamps, it is a disaster, besides that, the papers do not make sense" Din insisted. 

The seller paled, a signal that Din was right, taking the papers and waving them in the air, as if by doing that his argument could make more sense, but he was trapped in the act, Din knew it, but he cared little of it. Looking at the other authenticator, intimidating him with a stern glance, decided to push a thumb into him, and ground even more his morale. 

 "What was your name? I don't remember you from the authenticator's official list…" Din sounded so confident, so profesional. He knew Boba loved this. 

 The two men fell silent. Din turned to see his fiancé. 

 "Boba, calls the guards, we can't let them get away with this"

And just by asking, in minutes a couple of guards took the two scammers away. Din smiled during all the process.

Alone, Din took a seat on his fiancé's lap to kiss his neck slowly. 

"I didn't expect you to call the authorities," Boba muttered. 

 "Being such a bad imitations, I think I did them a favor, besides, the faster we were alone the better" Din continued kissing Boba's neck. Who after taking a deep sigh and completely relaxing his shoulders let out a small laugh. His hands caressed Din's back. Encouraging him to keep with the kisses. 

 "You know, I think you've robbed me something" 

 Din stopped. And looked into the eyes of his lover. His fingers caressed his chin.

 "What did I steal from you Boba?"  The thief reached out to steal a kiss from his lips. An intimate and slow one. 

 "You stole my heart," Boba reaffirmed, kissing him again.