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She tossed a pair of clothes into Thire’s arms as he walked through the door. Sofi had picked something up at the store around the corner that would help him fit in a little more. Unfortunately, that armor made it difficult to judge how broad his shoulders actually were. Height was easy to judge, since he was about two inches taller than she was.  And she had to admit that she was a little excited to finally get a look at what he was packing under those plastoid plates. 

“What’s this?” he asked, eyeing the garments with apprehension. 

“A little something for you to wear on our outing.”

“And where are we going?” 

“Giving you a little taste of my homeworld, right here on Coruscant.”

“And I can’t wear my armor at...”

“The Coronet.”

“The Coronet,” he deadpanned.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable!” And stick out just a little less. “It’s a Corellian bar, very casual. I wanted you to be able to move a little more freely.”

“You didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“I didn’t mind.” A pause. 

“Thanks.”

Then, right in front of her, he started stripping off his white armor plates and setting them gently on her floor. He certainly wasn’t shy. Then again, neither was she, but she turned away to give him a little privacy and resisted the urge to peek at him in his skivvies. She turned back around just as he was pulling the shirt down over his waist. His very trim waist. Maybe the pants she got would be too big after all. Thire stood with his hands by his sides, waiting for her approval.

“Well?” Sofi was a little lost for words for a moment, a little confused since she didn’t normally get tongue tied at the sight of fully clothed men. She watched him pull the trousers up again and smiled just a bit.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and retreated to her room where she knew she had a belt. Somewhere. After a few minutes of digging, she re-emerged and tossed it to him. “So you’re not pulling them up all night. I’m gonna need those hands free.”

His eyebrows raised up minutely, but he stayed silent. 

 “Did you finish your book?” He asked, threading the belt through the loops on his new trousers. 

“I did,” she smiled, “it was...hot.” Thire harrumphed. 

“Yours wasn’t. That was the most depressing thing I’ve ever read.”

“It’s a classic!” The skeptical look on his face told her that he didn’t much care for the classics, but he grinned lopsidedly at her, so he must not have hated it that much.

“To each their own I guess.” He shrugged. 

“You look great!” she said, meaning every word, even if the shirt was a little tight around the shoulders. Well, nobody was perfect, least of all her. She took his hand and led him down the street to The Coronet.

Thire, having only been to 79’s, had absolutely no clue what to expect from a Corellian Bar. He knew about Corellia, of course, from his flash training as a cadet, but only facts pertinent to a soldier, nothing about the culture. They were famous for their shipbuilding skills, and that’s about all he knew. 

Sofi was turning out to be quite the enigma for him. She worked in a Coruscant emergency room, regularly got covered in other peoples’ blood trying to save lives. She was gorgeous, but read analytical books, dressed like a holomodel but hung out in the bar they were currently sitting at - which he thought even some of his brothers wouldn’t be brave enough to enter. He thought he might have whiplash.

Right now he was drinking - of course - Corellian Whiskey, as was Sofi. She was on her second glass, chatting with the bartender who obviously knew her well. What Thire knew of her neighborhood from some discreet holonet searches was that it was home to a great deal of Coruscant’s Corellian immigrants. Megablock 239 was also known as Little Corellia - and here he was right in the middle of it, dressed like a regular man having a drink after work. It was strangely exhilarating.

Earlier, he’d bristled a little bit at Sofi dressing him up. Down? Either way. Now he was glad for it. Change had always been difficult for him, no matter how small. But the clothes were comfortable and helped him fit in with the laid back crowd sitting at the bar and in the grimy booths lining the walls. 

He was yanked out of his own thoughts by the sound of Sofi’s stool screeching back and said occupant bounding over to the band that had started to set up in the corner. 

“Come on, Thire!” she beckoned. He grabbed his drink and followed her. She was wearing some sort of little dress with criss-crossing straps that he didn’t have the energy to understand but enjoyed nonetheless. The warmth from the whiskey was starting to flow through him now, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as she and the musicians talked. 

She craned her head back at him and smiled.

“They’re straight from Corellia, just got here a few weeks ago.”

An elderly man tuning an instrument he’d never seen before studied him briefly. 

“Thire, huh? Not a name you hear every day. Where ya from, son?”

“Oh..uh...little backwater beyond the Outer Rim. Not very well traveled.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He desperately hoped the man didn’t pry more. Or look down at the white armored boots beneath his new pants. He wasn’t ashamed, but he wanted to feel like he was free from the debate over whether he was worthy of being a person or not for once. For the night, he wanted to be a nat-born, having a drink with his girlfriend. Subtract the boots and he at least looked the part. 

The man gave him a nod and a hum and went back to messing with the strings on his instrument. 

Sofi sat them down in a little both with a good view of the musicians around what he presumed was a dance floor. The music was...different...from what usually played at 79’s. Less bass, but with uplifting strings and drums. They sang as well. Sofi was obviously enjoying herself, bobbing her head to the music and humming along occasionally. Her drink was gone, but her cheeks were flushed and he could practically feel the excited energy rolling off her. 

With the next song, people started getting up to dance, which coincidentally was when panic started rising in Thire’s gut. To his immense dismay, Sofi squeezed the hand attached to his arm over her shoulder and looked back at him with a glint in her eye. Oh maker. He needed about five more drinks for dancing to be a fathomable concept.

“Do you want to?” she asked. 

“Maybe next song.” 

“Okay,” she replied, “Don’t feel like you have to. Do you mind if I dance for a little bit?” 

“Nah,” he said. “I’m happy to watch for now.”

She squeezed his hand again and got up from the booth, joining a little cluster of women at the center of the dance floor. A quick little song picked up and he just watched her, stomping her graceful feet and spinning, until the song was over and a new one started, slow this time. 

Couples started getting up and flooded the dance floor and he made eye contact with Sofi, who was still off to the side after the last song, panting. 

Kriff it, he was a Clone Commander. He’d faced a lot more terrible things than dancing and survived. And so he got his shebs out of the booth, took her hand and led her to the wooden floor. For all his quietness compared to his brothers, he was well known as the fastest learner, and it was coming in handy now. 

They swayed together with his hands on her waist for a while, talking quietly, taking in the music. Thire let his hands wander a bit lower, and her breath caught.

“My place?” she asked, deep brown eyes hooded and wanting. 

“Let’s go,” he replied, as wanting as she was. 

-----------------

Sofi was so glad she picked a shirt with short sleeves, because she couldn’t wait to explore those biceps. Like right now. A little impatiently, she tugged the hem of his shirt up and over his head and he pulled it off from the back of his neck. She was intoxicated less from the alcohol and more from touching a warm body for the first time in a long time, seeing his lean, compact muscles in the dim light of her bedroom, and the absolute awe in his eyes as he watched her undress. 

She was naked before she knew it. They both knew what was going to happen, no use keeping anything on. The ambient lights from the Coruscant sky and buildings around them cast a soft glow in the room. Raptly, she watched him unbuckle his belt and her stomach dropped in anticipation. What was it about those hands that made her think about all the things they could do and places they’d be.

Sofi helped him out of the trousers and basics and for a second they just stood there looking at one another, breathing heavily. She moved towards him, kissed him deeply and gently pushed on his shoulder so he sat on the edge of her bed and straddled him, a knee on either side of his hips, cock so close to her that she could practically feel it. But for now, she avoided touching him. 

“Have you done this before?” she asked, voice a little breathier that she’d intended. He’d been letting her take the lead, which wasn’t entirely unusual, but there was something in her intuition that told her he hadn’t. Not that it was a problem, she just wanted him to feel comfortable and not pressured. Some people hadn’t gotten the luxury.

A tight shake of his head gave Sofi her answer. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yeah,” he replied, as hoarse as she was. She touched him gently, with barely any pressure, then with a little more. The tension in his body wound up and his breathing caught. He kissed her then, looping an arm around her back and flipping them onto the bed, with her underneath him. She laughed inwardly at how breathless she was at that show of strength. He had that practical strength, so much hotter than showy, pumped-up muscles they showed in holos, where she knew he was holding it back just for her. To keep her safe and comfortable.

“Tell me what you like.”

 She was a little surprised. Pleased, but surprised.

“How about I show you?” 

She could barely make out the shocked disbelief on his face. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Cute. 

“There’s one thing I want to do first though,” she added, rolling him on his back and making her way down his body with her lips and teeth, feeling his dark eyes on her the whole way. She really couldn’t get enough of how his head craned back and the vessels in his neck popped out when she took him in her mouth. 

Sofi took her sweet time. It wasn’t her first rodeo, but it was his, and she wanted to make it memorable. It was nice for her too, since she got to watch his reactions, but she thanked the gods that he hadn’t had any of Giza’s tea. They caught their breaths side by side and she looked over at him and grinned, and found him already turned towards her, doing the same.

“Good?”

He nodded. “Your turn,” he said. 

He turned his body toward hers and flattened a palm over her stomach, leaning in for a kiss. She felt the hand come up and gently cup her breast, and then his mouth on the other. He was being extra careful and she had to remind herself that her nipples were pierced. Occasionally she still forgot, but not for long. A sigh left her as he switched sides.

Grasping his free hand, she guided it downwards to where she ached for him to be. She guided his fingers to her cunt, to the wetness there and drew them up to her clit.

“Do you feel that?” She felt more than heard the little noise of affirmation he made. “That’s where you wanna be. Fingers or tongue or whatever.” 

To her surprise, she felt his fingers sink into her, keeping his thumb on her clit. Guess I don’t have to teach him everything after all. Quick learner. He kept that pace up for a while and then, almost unnoticed, his head was between her legs and his mouth was on her. Sofi felt the tension in her body heighten until it was almost unbearable, with him sucking on her clit and his fingers pressing into her. And then she broke with a gasp and a sigh. 

She came back planetside to Thire’s very pleased-looking face staring at her, still perched between her thighs. He came up to kiss her again and they rearranged themselves semi-comfortably and just rested in silence for a while. A couple of dozy minutes later she lifted her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. 

“You seemed to know the basics of etiquette.” She propped herself up on an elbow, studying his face. “You didn’t put your hands on my head.” He chuckled at that. 

“I have over a million brothers,” he admitted wryly, and turned his head to look at her, “I picked up some things.”

“Ah,” she replied, “Well, you’re welcome to stay the night if you want.” She snuggled her head into his bare chest, palm spread out over his sternum, smoothing her fingers through the fine dark hair that grew there, still a tiny bit damp with sweat.

Where did that come from? Sofi was not a cuddler. Intimacy wasn’t the name of her game. At least not normally. Plus, she felt safe with him, which probably meant she should be extra wary. The man seemed to genuinely care about her outside of just sex. Seemed to, at least. They all revealed themselves in the end, that or she got bored. And Sofi got bored very easily. 

 It’s not like she didn’t have a million different ways to discreetly kick men out of her apartment. She hoped he didn’t expect her to make breakfast…maybe just some caf...with a few more scattered thoughts, her eyelids slipped shut and she was lost to sleep before she knew it, wrapped around Thire’s warm, naked body. 

When she woke up, he was spooning her from behind, in his skivvies. Sofi was still buck-ass naked. She gently removed his arm from about her waist and hit the’ fresher, pulling on some thermal sleepwear on the way. Thire must sleep like a rock, because he hadn’t budged from where she left him a few minutes ago. She was distinctly alarmed by the urge to let him sleep, rather than kick his ass out. He was handsome, plus she actually came last night. It was still the weekend, she conceded, and at the moment she needed caf more than she needed an awkward conversation with the man in her bed. 

Her water had just started boiling on the stovetop when she heard his rustling around in her bedroom. She decided to feign nonchalance when she heard soft footsteps behind her. A large hand pushed her hair to her left shoulder and kissed her gently where her neck met her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, careful not to startle her.

“Morning.” She poured the boiling water over the grounds as he watched, leaning on the counter. He had put on whatever black leggings they wore under their armor. His chest was still bare and it was supremely distracting, to her irritation. “How do you take your caf?” 

“However you take it, I’m not picky.” 

“Black, then.” 

“At least I ate something.” Mouse sighed and Fox shifted impatiently. Sofi watched his helmet tilt up, almost imperceptibly, to watch his brother floating in bacta. He was probably just as worried as she was. He and Thire had known each other for years. Maybe they hadn’t been close on Kamino, but now they were as close as batchmates. 

“You can come back later, but let’s get you a change of clothes at the very least.”

Sofi looked down at her dirty scrubs peeking out from under the hospital blanket. There were still little smears of his blood on them and the utterly exhausted part of her brain almost made her laugh at it. She’d been spattered with blood too when she first met Thire. She felt - and probably smelled - like the angel of death. Maybe a shower would do her some good. 

“Okay,” she acquiesced, “but I’m coming right back afterwards.”

“That’s fine,” said Mouse, “Fox will stay with him until you get back.”

Sofi managed to get home okay, after all, she’d had some rest. But she didn’t dare let herself lie down on her bed or the couch for fear of falling asleep again out of pure, eviscerating exhaustion. Showering was the acceptable alternative that would perk her up a bit, to wash some of her worry off as well as the grime. The searing heat of the spray helped to work some tension out of her muscles, cramped from her constant perch on the cot next to Thire’s tank. 

Mouse was right, she did feel better after showering. Gulping down some water, Sofi pondered when she’d have to go back to work. Paid time off was limited and she still wasn’t sure when Thire would be able to leave the hospital. Fortunately, he was young and healthy, in his prime, so to speak. That he had going for him, and also the particular Mando stubbornness that she supposed came from Jango Fett. Kaminoans certainly didn’t seem like the most tenacious of people. 

Sofi glanced at the inviting cushions on her couch. A little nap couldn’t hurt. She’d only been getting snippets of sleep the last few days, waking at every little voice and beep. A few hours couldn’t hurt. I’ll just rest my eyes, she thought, and slipped into sleep. 

Hours later she was wrenched out of sleep by her beeping comm. Thire was coming out of bacta.

She rushed back to the hospital, anxious and excited. Fox was still there with Thire, as promised, bucket off and standing ramrod straight beside the tank. Nurses and med droids milled about, prepping the room.

“Commander,” she greeted, sidling up to the tank. She pressed her hands to the transparisteel, studying Thire’s unconcsious form for any signs of trouble. 

“Ma’am,” he replied. Thire had told her so much about his brother, his vod as he called him. Commander Fox was a formidable man, but Sofi knew from Thire that his hard exterior hid a softer center. Not that she would ever mention it. 

“You can call me Sofi, if you like,” He smiled down at her. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Sofi,” said Fox. 

“Likewise.” Together they watched the bacta slowly start to drain, inching down gradually. Nausea rose up in her gut as she waited.

“What the hell happened to him, Fox?” She didn’t bother with rank, not caring much for formality at this point. 

He sighed, somehow looking even more burdened than usual. It was easy to see how Mouse would soften his edges, even him out a bit. 

“We had a tip on a being-trafficking situation down in the lower levels. One of the hut’uune set the place on fire to cover the evidence up...from what Stone told us, it sounded like he was in a hostage situation with one of them. He saved a woman but the trafficker shot him.” 

Tears prickled in her eyes, not for the first time that day. She knew she shouldn’t be angry at him for taking risks, but she was; wanted to tell him how much of a self-sacrificing idiot he was, but she couldn’t. He wouldn’t be the Thire she loved without his caring nature. 

--

It was slow going after leaving the hospital. Sofi didn’t think she’d ever had a worse patient in her entire career. After insisting that he be discharged with her, she’d brought Thire to her place so he could have some peace and quiet. He repeatedly insisted that he was fine to go back to work, despite being at death’s door mere days ago. Truthfully, he didn’t even seem that happy to be alive. 

He’d never raised his voice at her before, but now he was as testy as a wounded animal; she felt like she was constantly tiptoeing around his varying moods. It was exhausting. The worst part was that he wouldn’t let her help him. Sofi practically had to beg him to let her put bandages on, even though they both knew he couldn’t reach. 

Confronting the problem head on seemed the best option after a week of him shutting her out. Surgery and bacta had taken care of most of the critical damage, but the immobility and energy needed to heal had taken a lot out of him. 

“Thire?”

“Hm?” He didn’t even look up from his comm. 

“Why won’t you let me help you?” She tried putting her hand on his forearm but he shook it off, though he finally looked her in the eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, “I’m here, aren’t I?” Irritation showed plain on his face, still drawn from recovery.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” she said; she prayed he’d understand, “Thire, I saw you come into the hospital. I saw how bad it was. Even with bacta, there’s no way you’re back to one hundred percent.”

“You don’t know me, then. Because I’m fine. I honestly don’t even know why I’m here.” He threw the covers off of himself in frustration. 

That hurt. But she wasn’t entirely surprised. She’d get to the bottom of this, fix whatever was going on with him and they’d be back to normal. 

“Maybe you want to talk to someone about it?” she suggested.

That was apparently entirely the wrong thing to say. He glared at her, face hardening. She’d really upset him now, she could tell by that look on his face, the way he jerked and turned away from her so she couldn’t see it. 

“I’m fine,” he ground out, still facing towards the windows, “Actually, I’m better than fine. I’m going back to the barracks. I need some alone time.”

“Are you sur-“

“- I’m not one of your patients, Sofi. Stop treating me like I am!” The tone in his voice shut her up and she watched him awkwardly put on his blacks and lower body plates, breathing harshly. The upper ones were long gone, tossed aside in the back of an ambulance somewhere, slicked in his blood. 

She just sat there on the bed, too shocked to cry, staring at his back as he left her flat, walking stiffly through the pain and slamming the door behind him. This was nothing like the Thire she knew. It was hard to be upset with him, but it was like his personality had changed overnight and he refused to talk to anyone about it, least of all her. She could feel him pulling away and felt like there was nothing she could do to stop it.

--

Rare was the moment that Thire truly felt afraid. In the last week, he’d had two. One, when the certainty had come over him that he was going to die, and second, when he realized he lived but was gravely injured. Possibly irreparably. Civilians didn’t know about decommissioning, and his fellow clones only whispered the word, even as grown men. He and his brothers had grown up with the constant visceral terror of not being good enough and never being seen again, being stolen away in the night. Regular children had terrors of imaginary monsters, but for the clones they were real. 

Which was why he couldn’t let anyone see, even though he knew that the Kaminoans couldn’t touch him here. That fear had been so real and raw for the majority of his life that it was something he just couldn’t snap himself out of. His brothers would understand. They were the only ones who could and would protect him. 

All Sofi’s constant ministrations had done was make him feel like a child again. A terrified child. He cabbed it back to 300 Republica and stiffly made his way to his bunk, ignoring the stares from his brothers at his sweaty face, bucket under his arm, straining to keep it together until he reached his bunk. No one dared confront him. When he did arrive, he thanked whatever privileged bastard decided to give them private rooms before he limped to the fresher and started puking his guts out.

He kept having dreams about the hospital. 

------

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Somehow they felt like the longest two weeks of his life, and other times he wasn’t sure how that much time had passed since he’d seen Sofi. Two weeks was the longest they’d gone without speaking in the entirety of their relationship. He’d composed messages to her, but hadn’t had the gett’se to send them, to apologize for his di’kutla behavior. 

Being babied hadn’t helped his anxiety about his injury and like a coward, he couldn’t bring it up to her. To his displeasure, his anxiety had only worsened since his grenade injury in the beginning of the war. The medic then had told him he was lucky to come out of that still walking straight, which had resulted in him having daily panic attacks for weeks. He sighed. Since he’d stormed out of her place two weeks ago, Sofi hadn’t contacted him once. Not that he expected her to - he fully expected her to be pissed, and she had every right to be.

Which was why he almost didn’t answer her text. He knew he wasn’t mad at her, he knew that. It was his anxiety talking. He also knew their relationship was over. How could Sofi ever want him back after the way he’d raged at her. She deserved to be with someone who was as vibrant as she was. Still, his heart ached to see her again, hear her witty banter, see the way she smiled at him when he was doing something mundane and thought he couldn’t see. All of it.

He’d received a cryptic text from her number asking to pick her up, signed by one of her coworkers whose name he didn’t recognize.

Sofi was sitting on the curb with a cup of caf, wearing a paper scrub top. He was too scared to ask what had happened to the one that she had been wearing that matched her bottoms. His blood boiled at the implication. He may not have been there to witness what happened, but he could sure as hell connect the dots.

“I got your text.”

“I didn’t text you.” 

“Well someone did.” A long pause stretched between them. Sofi sat, sipping her coffee, looking for all intents and purposes extremely bored, while he stood in front of her, watching, waiting for an explanation. It didn’t help that his guilt was eating him alive and she wouldn’t - or couldn’t - look at him. 

“Surprised you even answered, Thire.” Her voice was flat, alarmingly so, her face smooth and expressionless. This was nothing like the Sofi he knew. He wanted her to rage at him, scream or curse - something. An ice pack rested over her right palm, dripping a puddle onto the duracrete.

“The text said something happened.” Thire’s worry was growing the more she wouldn’t look at him. She just sipped her coffee like nothing in the universe was wrong, like it was morning and they were still together and he’d run down to the corner shop for two cafs, black. 

“I don’t kriffing know,” she said, irritation plain, “ask the asshole who texted you. My cab is coming in five minutes and I just wanna go home.”

“What happened to your hand?” Her eyes flicked down to the appendage as if she had forgotten it was there. 

“Nothing.”

“Can I look at it?” he asked carefully. She shrugged. Taking that as a yes, he crouched down in front of her slowly, though he wasn’t sure she would even notice him. He moved the ice pack and a livid bite mark met his eyes, right in the meat of where her thumb met her palm. A human bite mark. Thire clenched his teeth.

“You gonna tell me who did this?” he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Dark almond eyes met his, almost black in the darkness, reflecting the speeder lights passing by. He braced his hands on the armor covering his thighs 

“Patient tried to get fresh with me. Ripped my top, tried to shove his fingers in my mouth. I pushed his face away and he bit me.” He watched her look at her hand and poke at the bruise like the appendage belonged to someone else. 

“That’s battery, Sofi, you should press charges!”

“It’s not that serious, Thire.”

“Half your hand is black and blue.” 

There seemed to be a lot of shrugging going on tonight. She repeated the movement, still staring straight forward.

“I just want to forget about it.” The crack in her voice was the only thing that stopped him from pushing her further. 

“Fine, but I’m taking you home.” As if in response, her cab pulled up and Thire talked to the cabbie, flipping him a few credits for his time. Fortunately, she mounted his speeder bike behind him without argument and held onto him gingerly, touching the least amount of surface area as possible. 

She let them into her apartment, moving slowly towards the bedroom and he followed, unsure of what he should be doing, or even if she wanted him there. Sofi finally settled on the edge of the bed and Thire joined her. 

“Has stuff like this happened before?” A shrug. Yes, then. She didn’t seem to want to elaborate, so he didn’t press her. But it didn’t surprise him. 

“Go shower and change and I’ll sit with you.” She didn’t fight his suggestion and rose, stiffly grabbed pajamas out of her drawer and slid into the fresher. A half hour later she was still in there and Thire was starting to get concerned. 

He knocked softly on the door, with no answer and Thire could hear that the shower was still running. He knocked louder. Maybe she’d fallen or passed out or worse and the last thought scared him enough to open the door to check on her. Sofi was huddled in the corner of her shower, arms wrapped around knees, head resting on top of them, so still she looked frozen as the water from the shower poured over her. 

Thire was a little scared to approach after what had happened earlier, unsure of how comfortable she’d be. He stripped his armor plates off and clambered in the shower with her. The water was still hot, soaking his blacks in a matter of seconds, wetting his hair until it plastered down to his face; instinctively, he sat and wrapped his arms and legs around her huddled form. Normally obstacles and insults rolled off her back like nothing - her unshakeable confidence was one of the things he loved most about her, but this - this was different and it scared him. 

For a moment her body tightened, relaxing after a beat, wet head coming to rest on his shoulder. He held her for a while in silence, letting the water fall over them. 

“Cyar’ika, let’s get you changed.” She nodded in response and squeezed his arm a bit, as if to reassure him she was okay. He turned off the water for her and she wrapped up in a towel while he shed his soggy blacks. Fortunately, he kept a few pieces of civvy clothing at her place which were still strewn on a chair in the corner. They donned their sleepwear in silence and she let him curl up behind her in bed, like old times. After a few minutes, neither of them were asleep and Thire couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said. She squirmed and readjusted so that she was facing him in bed, hand on his face, softly stroking his cheek.

“There’s no way you could have known, stuff like this happens more than you think,” she whispered, “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know. I just wish I had been,” he continued, “-and I know I was wrong when I left.”

“Me too.” She paused, looking down at her bitten hand. He took it in his, finding that he needed it more for his reassurance than her comfort. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I knew you were mad and I wanted you to have the space you needed.”

“I don’t even know how many times I wrote and rewrote messages to you. I was just too afraid to send them,” he said, forcing himself to continue, “...the reason I blew up at you...you didn’t do anything wrong. I was scared.” He choked out the last word. Here he was, a Commander, pride of the GAR, admitting he was terrified. How he hated it. 

“I know,” she admitted, “I could tell by your reaction, but I didn’t want to press.” 

“I’m sorry.” Thire hung his head, he had to get this out, or else he would never be able to tell her. “When we were young, training, there were rumors that if you were defective….the Kaminoans would decommission you.” 

“Decommision?”

“Kill us.” His bluntness astonished him, but it was the truth. “That’s why I get anxious when I’m sick or hurt. Not because of you.” 

“I forgive you.” She brushed a kiss across his lips, and he noticed tears in her eyes again. “And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you had to go though that.” 

“Forgiven,” he replied, returning the kiss and pressing her to him so that they were flush.

“I care that you’re alive. Even if we’re not together,” whispered Sofi.

“Do you want to be together?”

“Yes,” she said, “Do you?”

“More than anything,” he replied. 

---

Thire and Sofi sat in her kitchen, happily sipping caf and eating savory pastries from Ordo’s - their usual Sunday morning routine. He met her eyes over the top of his mug and smiled. 

“I want a baby, Thire.”

“What?” His eyes went a little wide but he was able to keep his reaction somewhat under control, except for the fact that he choked slightly on a bit of pastry. 

“With you.” His watery eyes considered her, sitting across the table from him, a perfectly placid expression on her face. 

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

She gave him a little pause to think about it.

“And I don’t want to wait. You’re it, Thire. I knew on our second date. And then you got shot and it just put everything into perspective.”

“I get that.” He considered it. A baby. “I feel that way too. I love you, Sofi. If it was legal I’d carry you to the Senate Building right now and marry you on the spot.”

“What do you think? About what I said.”

He considered her proposition. A baby. Fatherhood had always been an abstract concept to him, having never had one himself. But in the past year, he’d let himself consider the notion once or twice. Okay, maybe more since he’d met Sofi. 

“I think I’d like to. Try at least and see what happens.” 

“Good, because I’m overdue for my birth control hypo and I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

Per usual, she managed to drop his jaw to approximately the level of his knees. That was his Sofi, always direct. She never did anything by half. 

“Take your clothes off and sit down,” she commanded, nodding towards the bed. He raised an eyebrow slightly but complied. She knew he liked it when she was a little bossy in bed, and today was no exception, if the state of him was any indication. 

She stripped her clothes off in front of him, slowly, backing away when he reached out to touch her. 

Thire was obviously feeling better, because the look in his eyes was hungrier than she’d ever seen it. Oh, this was going to be fun. She made her way over to her closet to where Thire’s pile of discarded clothes still sat. He’d gotten in the habit of leaving his civilian clothes at her place, but never got in the habit of folding them. When he left, she hadn’t had the heart or energy to get rid of them. 

She bent to search through the pile, giving him quite the show and he practically growled. But he stayed put on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as he watched her. 

Finally she found what she was looking for. The worn leather belt he’d worn on their second date. She strolled lazily back to him, belt in hand, and grabbed his wrist, yanking his hand off himself. He got the idea pretty quickly.

“Can I tie you up?”

“Hells...yes,” he replied. She pushed him back so he was lying flat, arms above his head and used the belt to strap his wrists together. The muscles in his arms looked delicious like this. She traced her hands down them and sighed. 

“Too tight?” He shook his head no.

“Pretty,” she remarked, “Be good and stay still for me, Thire.” He interrupted her before she could start in on him. 

“Sit on my face. Want you to come first.” Her core clenched, and she smirked at him. “Please,” he begged, smirking back at her. The little shit.

“Well since you asked so nicely.”

She straddled his talented mouth and he licked into her, circling her entrance with his tongue, pressing it into her. He knew exactly how to drive her insane, even without using his hands. 

“Ah…” he nosed up to her clit and she swore under her breath, closing her eyes against the pleasure and gripping the headboard. Already, her legs were starting to shake, but he was relentless, grinding his tongue on her clit with maddening pressure until she was the one panting and begging and then she came with a breathless sigh. 

When she finally came down from her high she bent to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips, slipping her tongue in his mouth, careful not to touch his cock yet. Sofi liked seeing - and hearing - him desperate for her.

“Should I give you what you want?” He just groaned in response as she finally took his cock in her hand, stroking gently. By the look of the muscles in his neck, he was certainly desperate.

“I guess I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, centering herself over him. Thire gained a little composure back and their eyes met. Gods, she was crazy about him. She’d never felt safer or more cared for in her entire life - she loved him and she loved him so kriffing much - and looking in his eyes now he saw her feelings mirrored there - in the deep glowing brown of his eyes, the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, trusting her completely. 

Without breaking eye contact, she took him inside her fully, just pausing for a moment and reveling in the feeling of their bodies joined together. His hips gave an involuntary jerk, pushing father inside and rubbing her clit against his abdomen and it spurred her to move, riding him until she was breathless again. Somehow he’d freed his hands, because suddenly she felt them in her hair and he was tugging her down to kiss him. 

She could feel him getting closer now, and she let him take the reins, allowing his warm calloused hands to grip her hips and thrust up into her, deep and slow. Together they found a rhythm and Sofi lost herself in him, listening to his breath come harsher and harsher, feeling his grip on her hips tighten until he came with a groan, pulling her hips down onto his as he filled her. 

Resting her hands on the hard planes of his chest, she stilled, curled over and catching her breath. Warm hands stroked her thighs and rearranged her onto her side, facing Thire, whose stamina was decidedly better than hers. He wasn’t even breathing hard anymore. Languidly, she tipped her chin up for a kiss and snuggled into him, deciding to stay in the moment for just a few more moments before they started their day.

------

[2 months later]

The speeder thrummed under him, a fitting companion to his buzzing thoughts. Sofi had been acting strange that morning. She’d never been much of a morning person, but this morning had been different. 

For one, she had Ryshcate for breakfast. One of her new coworkers sent the sticky Corellian pastry home with her a few nights ago and she’d eaten two pieces with her caf this morning. Second, she’d practically booted him out the door, bouncing on the tips of her toes like she was late for work. Which she wasn’t, he knew. It was her day off. 

Something was definitely up. 

Even though she knew they were trying to get pregnant, Sofi was still nervous staring at that stupid stick lying on the fresher counter. Pretty much every friend she knew had at least one scare, including her, and those three minutes waiting for the simple little test to develop had probably been some of the longest minutes of her life, though nowadays they were second to those minutes waiting for news after Thire had gotten shot. 

She’d splurged on a little more expensive test, for no reason at all except that she felt hopeful. They’d only been trying for two months, really she didn’t expect it to happen this soon. People tried for years sometimes without any luck, and she’d just gone off her hypo. The elderly woman who owned the shop down the street, Hellah, had given her a soft knowing look when she had taken her credits. Sofi had bought some other little things along with the tests so she looked less suspicious - why, she couldn’t know - but at least she had some chocolate now if she needed it. 

It was way too early to have any major symptoms. She was just late. Really late. Thire was working and she didn’t want to take a test with him there, for whatever reason her brain had conjured up. They’d both obviously contributed, but for some reason this felt private. Secret even. Before now, a pregnancy test was always something you hid from men until there was something to tell, so they didn’t have to worry. 

He’d get all excited and then she didn’t want to see his disappointment if the test was negative. So she’d sent him off to work with caf and a kiss on the cheek and rushed to the little corner store as soon as he was gone. 

The test bleeped insistently and she could hear her heart beating in her ears all of a sudden. Why are you so nervous? You’ve taken tests before. It doesn’t really matter what the test says, anyway. Even though she knew what she wanted it to say. But they hadn’t been trying for that long, she didn’t even know why she was doing this. She stopped trying to bargain with herself and just looked at the kriffing test.

Pregnant :)

Pregnant, she was pregnant. Holy kriff. She stared at the window for a moment, trying to let the word sink in. That was fast. Thire was gonna lose his mind. After they’d talked a few months ago, he’d been a lot more on board than she thought. 

The revelation kept hitting her in waves. She didn’t feel much different, which was the weirdest part. And she’d never felt so intensely happy and insanely terrified at the same time. Her head hit the wall behind her. 

Now she just had to tell Thire somehow. 

------

Thire’s eyes were glued to the sono screen and she laughed softly. He had never been exposed to this side of life before and it was kind of sweet to watch his reactions. He also hated hospitals, so his nervous energy was out the roof, but Thire put on a good face for her. She had purposely picked a clinic far away from her work, far away from prying coworkers and Thire’s traumatic memories. He’d never seen a sonogram before and kept asking the tech questions. 

Sofi, on the other hand, was used to seeing sonos. Scary ones. The emergency ward used them all the time, and rarely for this, but when they did it usually revealed something horrible. She half expected to see a lacerated liver show up, or other worse things she didn’t want to think about. But what she did see was even more shocking than that. 

She gasped and Thire broke his searing eye contact with the monitor. Thire was apparently beginning to catch on, as his face was approximately a hand’s length from the screen. This was completely new to him, but he always caught on incredibly quickly. Lately she’d sneaked peeks of what he was reading on his datapad before bed and it was always dry, statistical obstetrics manuals. It was no wonder he’d been a little grim and nervous before this appointment. 

“What?” he asked, “What is it?” By his panicked tone, it was obvious he’d done way too much reading after she’d broken the news, because now he was worried about every tiny thing that could go wrong. She turned to the sono tech. 

“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” Sofi asked grimly. The tech laughed a little, fiddling with the sensor on her still-flat stomach. Thire was still looking oppressively somber and reached out to place his hands over hers. 

“It’s definitely what you think.” She smiled kindly and pointed at the screen. “Heart here,” said the tech, touching the screen, then adjusted the sensor, “and a second here.” Oh gods. Thire squeezed her hands in his. Twins. Their relationship was still full of surprises, it seemed. 

He was looking down at her like she’d hung all the stars in the galaxy and she couldn’t help but start giggling incredulously. Thire’s deep laugh joined in with hers and the sono tech smiled and looked away, letting them have a little moment to themselves.

--

“Isn’t two good?” he asked, more confused than he’d been since he was a cadet. He didn’t know anything about medicine, and he was trying to learn as fast as he could. The twin chapter hadn’t come up yet. He supposed he was lucky Sofi knew enough for the both of them. More than enough, he sometimes thought. 

She tended to be anxious about illness and injuries, even more so after he got shot. Maybe she’d want to stay home for a little while when the baby - babies, he corrected himself, still a little stunned - were little. Her doctor sent them home with approximately a million pamphlets and Sofi got about as many blood tests. 

He thanked the maker he was a man. 

“No Thire, in this case two isn’t always better than one,” she sighed, “but I’m still happy.” She squeezed his hand as they walked together out of the clinic.

“Me too.” Looking down at the little black and white flimsi, he studied the two little beans. “Look at them! They’re so small.” Two. Two babies.