#commando fixer

You knew they had returned from the mission. Had even already gotten a preliminary list of equipment that would need possible repair or replacement. Eventually Fixer would make his way to the bay in which you did repairs on the gear the various squads used.  He always did. 

  In the beginning he was suspicious.  How could a natborn be qualified enough to maintain their gear? Especially since the men themselves took care of the basics.  After they were debriefed they were sent to drop the gear that needed repair or replacement with you. 

  “What are your qualifications?” He asked bluntly as he set his gear on the counter. 

  “Fixer! You can’t just ask people what their qualifications are!” Scorch had joked immediately with a wink in your direction. 

  “They can ask me anything they want, anytime,” Sev said, with a smirk. 

  “Specialized school from the time I was twelve standard until I was eighteen. Trade school until I was twenty-two standard, where I achieved multiple awards on my work. Then two years working with my planet’s military until it was absorbed into the GAR half a standard year ago. During which I have received three commendations.” You list off as you pick up an ascension cable with a compromised latch. “By my rough estimate that means I have been officially learning and winning awards in my field for as long as you have been alive. And we are not even counting the years I spent as a child learning my craft from my grandmother and father. So if you feel the need to question my abilities I assume I should also feel the need to question yours?”

  Scorch snickered at that, “they told you, Fixer,”  with a little wave he and the other two left, leaving the man behind with you. 

  Rolling your eyes you put the cable in the repair bin and move on to the next piece of equipment. 

  “That piece is beyond repair,” he said, still wearing his helmet. 

  You swore in your native tongue before answering, “feel free to put it to the test when you get this unit back. Until then, if you have a problem with me, take it up with the chain of command.”  You are already inspecting and sorting the next piece of gear. “That should keep you tied up enough that I can actually do my job” 

  Fixer stood in the repair bay with his helmet on for more than an hour watching you until you looked up once to see he had disappeared. 

  After each mission debrief he showed up after that, whether his equipment was damaged or not.  The next time he very quietly asked, “Do you mind if I watch?”

  You shrug, “Sure, if it makes you feel better” before going about your work. Fixer stood quietly, helmet on, against the wall watching. 

  The third time he asked the same, and after about an hour of watching asked a few questions about what you were working on. 

  Eventually he stopped asking if he could stay and took his helmet off. Edging closer to your workbench. The first time he leaned against your workbench he asked, “do you enjoy your work?”

  You pause, ”I guess, I don’t know. It’s just what I do. Haven’t done anything else.  I like fixing things, making sure people are safe,”

  Fixer nodded and continued watching you with few other questions that day. 

  You began seeing him more between missions. He would wander in and watch you work, your conversations expanding. You began asking him what he could tell you about his squad, then planets his missions were on. 

  You look forward to his visits, the somewhat reserved smile that tugs at his lips while his eyes sparkle with hidden humor. 

  Eventually the realization that he has your heart strikes you. Not that anything could be done. It was against regulations for clones to have established romantic relationships. Not that it stopped many of them. It was overlooked for the most part in favor of better morale.  But Fixer.  By the book Fixer would never consider it and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to. If the only capacity you could have him was this, you would take it. 

  Fixer always went to be debriefed after every mission. It was what was supposed to happen, so he always did.  So you were surprised when shortly after the alert that their ship had touched down he rushed into your work bay.  

  Ripping his helmet off and dropping it he strode right up to you, grabbing you by the waist with one hand and pulling you closer while grabbing your chin to tilt your face up to his. 

  “Wha, Fixer? Are you sure about this?” You gasped.  

  “Never been more sure about anything,” he said, leaning in and his lips barely brushing yours. Then with a stuttered breath he pulled you to himself and into an overwhelming kiss. You clung to his armor, feeling the scratches and scuffs under your palms assuring you that this was real. 

  After several long moments he pulled back, cradling your face in his still gloved hands. 

  “Thought this was against regulations,” you say, looking up at him.  

  “Kark regulations,” he nearly growled, kissing you again. 

  You pull back, “who are you and what have you done with my Fixer?”

  He grinned, “Yours?” 

  You stammer, unable to form a thought to answer with. He nuzzles against you, “I would like that, would you be mine too?”

  Fighting back tears of emotion you answer, “only if you kiss me again.”  With another grin, he does. 

  A whistle sounded from the doorway, partnered with a “This couldn’t wait until after the debrief?” From Sev. 

  “No,” Fixer said shortly before returning to kissing you.

  “Leave him alone, Sev. He’s finally loosening up!” Scorch answered. 

  “We still need to get to the debrief,” Boss pointed out.