Chapter Text
You met the child before you met the Mandalorian. The little green guy wandered up to your grill, attracted by the scent of sizzling kabobs, taking tiny, adorable steps hidden by the sack he wore. You were a vendor on one of Tatooine’s busy streets, sitting cross-legged on a mat behind your simple, low grill set-up.
“Hey there,” you said, trying to guess the strange creature’s age. It looked like a baby, but with unfamiliar species, you never could be sure, and you didn’t want to offend a potential customer. “Are you interested in a kabob? They’re hot and fresh.”
The tiny head tilted to the side, and the little fellow made a distinctly babyish cooing sound. It was a kid, then.
“Where are your parents?” you asked, concerned now. Kids shouldn’t be roaming Tatooinian market streets alone. The pack of Jawas who set up shop to your right was giving the kid interested looks, and they were far from the worst trouble an unaccompanied minor could get into.
The baby reached out a hand toward the tempting, smoking morsels of meat, and you hurried to your feet and around the grill to stop him. “No! No, that’s hot. You’ll burn yourself.” Picking up the baby, you started scanning the crowd for distressed adults who looked like they’d misplaced their children. “Your parents can’t be far. You don’t walk very fast.” You stepped farther into the street, bouncing the child on your hip and turning, searching.
“Grogu?” called a distressed voice, just the kind of distressed that might match a worried father, and at the name, the little guy in your arms looked up, burbling. A man in armor dashed around a bend in the street, his head swiveling as he searched the ground. “Grogu?” As the man ran closer, he saw you, and he stumbled to a halt with evident relief. “You found him,” he said. His broad shoulders under a set of heavy pauldrons heaved.
At the first whiff of his scent, strong with the sweat of his exertion, you ducked your head in submission and fought the urge to whimper. “Yes, Alpha,” you said. “I was just holding onto him until I found his parents. Are you…?”
“I’m his dad,” the man confirmed, reaching out for the child. You put Grogu in his waiting arms. “You scared me half to death, kid. Don’t wander off like that.”
The alpha’s scent was almost dizzying, it was so powerful. He was strong and protective and caring… Absolutely swoon-worthy. He has a kid, you reminded yourself firmly. That probably means there’s someone else in the picture. Then again, he smelled unbonded.
After assuring himself that Grogu was unharmed, the man finally gave you his full attention. “Thank you for taking care of him until I could find him,” he said. His voice, through the helmet’s vocoder, was low and warm and rumbly.
“It was no trouble,” you said. “I promise. He’s a cute kid.” You touched one of the baby’s long ears. You went fishing for information. “Is his mother around?”
“There is no mother,” said the alpha, looking down at you through an unreadable visor. “It’s just us.”
Joy! Victory! You tried not to sound too excited as you said, “Oh.”
From behind you came the sound of juice dripping onto coals, and you scrambled back to your spot on the mat, turning the kabobs before they burned. Now that the smell of your wares filled your nose rather than the stranger’s pheromones, you chastised yourself for getting so worked up. You weren’t the kind of person who threw herself at every unbonded alpha she came across. You told yourself to get a grip.
The armored man still looked restless, glancing back the way he’d come and shifting from foot to foot. “Look,” he said in a rush. “I know we just met, but can I ask a favor of you? Can you watch the kid just for ten more minutes? I’ll pay. There’s something I need to take care of.”
Credits? More time with the adorable child? A chance to see this alpha again? The cards were all coming up sabacc. “That’s no problem at all,” you said. “Give him here.”
The man put Grogu into your arms, thanked you once more, then took off the way he’d come.
You bounced the baby in your lap. You sold five kabobs, assembled a few more, put them on the grill, and kept the baby from burning his hands when he reached out for them. “No,” you said. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to eat this stuff. We’ll have to ask your dad when he gets back.”
Grogu whined, but he settled down.
Not five minutes after taking off, the alpha returned, this time in pursuit of a Duros. The two of them raced down the street until the alpha shot out a fibercord whip from his wrist gauntlet, ensnaring the Duros’ legs and downing him. Your alpha knelt on his prey’s torso, pulling both his wrists up and snapping them into binders.
“Bounty hunters,” sighed the vendor to your left, a man who sold jewelry (most of it stolen). “Getting into fights right in the middle of the street and driving off customers.” He shook his head.
Bounty hunter. You looked back at the alpha, now assigning him a profession in your head. And swooning a little from the impressive display of strength.
The alpha dragged the prisoner to his feet and then over to you. “Thanks for watching him,” the alpha said. He reached into a pocket and tossed you a handful of credits—a generous handful. “Come on, Grogu. Time to go.”
“Ahh,” Grogu whined, pointing at the tantalizing meat in front of him.
“Oh, so that’s why you wandered off. You smelled this nice lady’s cooking?” The alpha addressed you, reaching into his pocket again. “How much for a kabob?” he asked.
“They’re three credits, but you can have as many as you’d like,” you said. “It’s all part of the babysitting package.” The credits he’d tossed you for watching Grogu more than covered a few kabobs.
The bounty hunter didn’t listen to you, removing six more credits and handing them over. “We’ll take two.”
“Can I get one?” whined the Duros in binders.
“No,” said the bounty hunter. “Shut up.”
You handed over two kabobs fresh off the grill, and the bounty hunter took a seat in the dust before accepting. He pulled his prisoner to the ground beside him.
“If you run,” he said to the Duros, “I’ll just shoot you.”
“No running,” gulped the Duros. “Got it.”
The bounty hunter then ignored him in favor of pulling off his helmet, setting it aside, and welcoming the baby into his lap. He tugged a piece of meat off the end of a kabob and fed it to the excited kid.
You tried not to stare at him. He was a human, like you. Forty, maybe? He had a handsome face with simple, expressive features and kind eyes that crinkled at the corners. His brown hair curled a bit at the edges, and parts of it were matted down from being inside a helmet.
He took a bite of kabob for himself, and his brows lifted. “This is really good,” he told you.
“Thank you, Alpha,” you said.
“You don’t have to do that.” He met your eyes earnestly. “It’s just Din. Din Djarin.”
An alpha who didn’t prefer being addressed by his designation? Strange. “Thank you, Din.”
Grogu grabbed for another chunk of meat. Din chuckled and fed him one.
You remembered him running after the escaped kid, then dashing back to finish capturing his quarry. “Pardon me for asking,” you said, “but do you typically bring your kid on hunts?”
Din sighed and stroked Grogu’s ear. “I don’t like doing it. But there’s no one else to watch him, and I don’t like leaving him alone on the ship, either.”
“It’s just, you seem pulled in a few different directions.”
Another sigh. “You’re right. I’m trying to be a single parent and work a job at the same time. It’s been a lot.” He fed Grogu another morsel. “I wouldn’t trade it, though.” He stared at his kid for a few moments. When he glanced up at you again, he clearly had a thought on his mind. “We just met,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, but you confirmed anyway. “Yes.”
“But you’re good with the kid. And you’re sweet. Would you like a job? Come with us. Watch the kid for me while I’m off hunting.”
A job offer was the last thing you’d expected from this encounter, and Din could read the shock on your face.
“If you don’t want to, please say no. But I can pay you, as well as give you free room and board. It’s a lot of traveling, and you might have to interact with some unsavory individuals that I’ve captured, and gods know the kid can be a handful…”
“I’ll do it!” you said. “You had me at free room and board.” You were living with your father right now because you didn’t have the credits for a place of your own. Ride away with this charming alpha and his cute son to adventure through the stars? And get paid for it? “That sounds great. I’d love to come with you.”
A smile broke over Din’s face, creasing every laugh line. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.”
~
When your father, a beta, saw you arrive home with an alpha in tow, his first reaction was to exclaim, “Finally! I was thinking she’d never find a mate.”
“Dad!” Your cheeks burned. You glanced behind you at Din, but his face was once again covered by the unreadable helmet. “It’s not like that. He’s hiring me to watch his kid. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”
This didn’t stop your father from shaking Din’s hand and looking him up and down with undisguised awe. “A Mandalorian! You are a Mandalorian, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Din said simply.
“What’s a Mandalorian?” you asked.
“They’re warriors,” said your dad. “Ancient warriors. Not that you’re ancient,” he quickly amended, looking at Din. “Not at all. You look like you’re in your prime.” He gave Din a cheerful thumbs up.
“Can I have a word with you?” You dragged your father to the kitchen. Once out of hearing distance, you hissed in a low voice, “He’s not my alpha. He’s my boss.”
“Maybe for now,” your dad began, “but I’m sure living together will convince him of what a catch you are. An alpha and an omega sharing close quarters? I give it a month before you win him over.”
You put your head in your hand, ashamed by the assumption that omegas were all sexually irresistible to alphas. “He hired me for a job. I’m just going to do the job. I’m not going to scheme my way into a mate or anything like that, okay?”
“Why not? He’s a catch too.” Your dad grinned. “Big and strong. Very alpha. And he’s family oriented.”
“We’re not going to mate!” you said in a very quiet shout.
Your dad’s cheeky smile dropped into one more serious. He put a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to see you looked after,” he said.
“I know. I know you care about me. But I’ll be fine.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. Then you exited the kitchen, and he followed.
In your room, Din set the baby on your bed and helped you pack, moving clothes from the closet into a box. Your dad gave him a wide berth, still awestruck. He’d always been a little unsure around alphas and omegas. As part of the beta majority, he didn’t really get it—not the pheromones, or the heats and ruts, or how out-of-control your designation could make you feel. He handed you an empty duffle bag, and you started filling it with items from a drawer.
“Do you have everything you need,” he stage whispered, “for your, you know, special times?”
Could this day get any more embarrassing? “Yep,” you said. You swept your heat stash—painkillers and extra blankets and a toy—into the bag as quickly as you could. Then you spun around to face Din.
He was watching you, frozen halfway through placing a stack of shirts into a box. Maybe he was regretting his choice already, wishing he’d picked a nice, simple beta for the job instead.
“The fact that I’m an omega won’t be an issue,” you told him as confidently as you could while wishing you could disappear. “I promise.”
“Okay,” was all he said.
Two boxes and the duffle bag fit everything you wanted to bring. Din slung the bag over his shoulder. You tried to pick up one of the boxes, but Din said, “Let me,” and stacked them on top of each other. All you had to carry was Grogu, who settled into your arms like he’d known them his whole life.
You wished your father goodbye. He told Din, “Take care of her, please.”
“You have my word,” Din said. He ducked through the doorway.
“I changed my mind,” your dad whispered to you. “I give it two weeks.”