Chapter Text
"Erm…. Do you like.. need a babysitter?"
Mando, still breathing hard from the shootout he'd only ended seconds ago, turns his head slowly towards the speaker.
It's a teenage girl, human, 17-18 years, with dirty blonde hair, a purple top and pants so covered in dust he can't tell the colour anymore. More importantly, she is also holding the child against her stomach as she crouches behind a piece of wall, ostensibly to avoid the blasts from the fight. The child does not seem to be in distress, is, in fact, shrinking back against her, and she's cradling him gently, one hand pressed over the ear that isn't pressed against her stomach.
"What?" he says, holstering his blaster and reaching out from the child. She hands the child over easily and Mando breathes an internal sigh of relief.
"A babysitter," the girl repeated. She makes a face. "I need to get off this planet but, well, I don't exactly have any skills beyond babysitting?"
"I don't need a babysitter," he says. "And you don't want to hitch a ride with me."
He turns and walks, expecting that to be the end of it. People don't usually try to argue with a mandalorian. 'People' apparently don't include the blonde.
She skips into step behind him, already speaking.
"Please? I don't have credits but I don't want to be stuck on this dust-planet forever you know? And you're like the first person to pass by here in forever. Who knows when someone else will come?"
"I don't need a babysitter," he repeats, voice harder this time. "And in case you didn't realise from the shootout back there, it isn't safe to travel with me."
"I did," the blonde says and when he risks a glance, she's rolling her eyes, "but I weighed the pros and cons and the pros won. Please, please, pretty please. I'll take good care of him. He's a real sweety. And he likes me. Don't you little one?"
Her last question is directed to the child who coos happily back at her.
This is what gives him pause. He's come to realise that the child has an uncanny sense about who will do him harm and who won't. And...Mando admits grudgingly, he does still need to learn an awful lot about caring for the child. Perhaps by the time he drops the blond off on their next stop he'll have observed enough from her to get a good basis of what to do.
"Fine," he says shortly, after a pause.
"Yes!" the blond cheers.
"But I'm dropping you off on our next stop," he warns her.
"So long as it's got more civization than this I'm good with that," the blond agrees.
Mando doesn't bother to reply. They walk until they get to the ship and the blond walks up the ramp behind him, eyes wide. He wonders if she's ever been on a ship before.
He settles the child in its seat, points the blond to the next chair and slides into the pilots seat. They're in the air in a few moments and then in space, zooming away from the planet that he'd hoped would give them some respite from the hunters on their tail.
"Hey," the blond says after a few moments, "What do I call you?"
"Mando," he replies.
"I'm Stephanie," she says, smile wide, "Stephanie Brown."