FWB to enemies
“What the kriff are you doing here?” Jango hissed, once Taun We had left his quarters.
Ben, the karking idiot, had gone the color of spoilt milk at the sight of him. He was lucky Jango hadn’t blown his cover and gotten him tossed into the ocean or executed by clone firing squad for impersonating a Jedi.
“Dad?” Boba asked, losing the cute but ineffectual glower he’d been giving the supposed interloper.
“Everything’s fine, Boba,” Jango said, watching the fascinated glance Ben cast at his son. Ben was honorable, as far as bounty hunters went, but Jango would make sure to threaten him just in case. A lot of people would pay an obscene amount for something to hold over his head, and Jango had very little in the galaxy he cared for other than Boba. “Go work on your modules, we’re gonna talk shop.”
Boba’s eyes sharpened with interest, knowing by now what his father’s trade entailed, and he gave Ben an assessing look. Ben was unassuming when he wanted to be--disguising himself as someone important wasn’t his style, but he’d done a damn fine job with his cover, as he always did. He was carrying himself like a Jedi. He even had what looked like a kriffing lightsaber hilt tucked into his belt, though Jango wasn’t sure if it was a replica or if Ben had somehow managed to get his hands on the real deal. It wouldn’t exactly surprise him if he had; Ben was good at what he did, even if Jango was better.
“It was good to meet you, young one,” Ben said, in that stilted but sincere way he had with kids. Boba rolled his eyes as he left, and Jango didn’t bother to stifle his smile. He doubted that Boba had made Ben’s first few minutes on Kamino especially pleasant.
“Answer the question, Ben,” Jango said, once Boba was safely in his room. The little womp rat probably had his ear pressed to it, just like Jango used to do when Jaster held war counsels, way back when. “What are you doing here?”
Ben still looked a little like he’d been cold cocked at the sight of him, but he was getting over it quickly. It was a trait Jango appreciated just as much as he mistrusted. Ben had never screwed him over before (at least not in a way Jango hadn’t enthusiastically reciprocated and participated in, at any rate), but Jango had been in the game too long to trust a bounty hunter who was good at their job.
“I was hired to track down the person who put a hit out on a senator. I wasn’t aware it was you I’d be dealing with or I wouldn’t have come.”
Jango smiled again at that; Ben had the oddest way of pulling those out of him without even trying. Most bounty hunters would never admit to something like that, because they worked in an industry where you really couldn’t afford the resultant loss of face, but Ben had always been an oddball. It was a breath of fresh air to hear someone self-deprecate when most bounty hunters preferred to self-aggrandize.
Of course, Ben was too skilled, and Jango too smart to fall for it--but he admired Ben’s dedication to his cowardly, pragmatic facade. He might have believed it if Ben hadn’t saved his life in situations where he stood to gain nothing from it. The man was about as noble as a bounty hunter could be, with a healthy serving of death wish, to boot.
“That quick, huh. Hadn’t known you were on Coruscant. If I did I would’ve subcontracted to you instead of Wesell.”
“Yes, well, I’m currently in the employ of your target, and I won’t be swayed without a much more significant percentage of the payout than you’re willing to give.” He hesitated, tugging contemplatively at his beard, then said, “Naboo is a very wealthy planet, you know--”
“Not happening for me either, though I appreciate the offer. My employer isn’t someone I want to cross.” Yet.
“I see,” Ben said. “Well, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to talk about your... other contracts?”
He sent a significant glance at Boba’s door.
“Boba’s not a product,” Jango said sharply. “He was the reward.” That’s what the others are. Products. I have only one son.
“I didn’t mean to insult your family in such a way,” Ben said delicately, though he almost certainly had. Jango let it slide; up until a few minutes ago, he hadn’t known his colleague, rival, and occasional fuckbuddy had a son. All things considered, he was taking everything very well.
And the Jedi might receive the intel better if it was Ben selling it to them. After all, a clone army with the Jedi Killer’s face was always going to be a hard sell, and Ben was a born salesman. Jango had worked too hard for his revenge for it to falter now.
And... he found he wanted Ben and Boba to get to know each other. As it stood, the only other bounty hunter Boba knew was Aurra Sing, and as much as Jango respected her she was hardly a role model. He still had his Mandalorian sense of honor, and Ben was the only other bounty hunter he knew who had even a semblance of a moral code.
That was the only reason he wanted Ben to meet his son.
Besides, they hadn’t slept together in years, and Jango was nothing if not an opportunist.
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, and we’ll see if we can work something out.”