#lde24

As the festivities continue, you look to the sky and find yourself meditating on the constellations twinkling high above the laughter and dancing. You wander along the edge of the celebrations, the sound of music and enthusiastic drinking fading into the background and pushing a smile onto your features. You watch as the 501st relax with the people of Dondri, and if you didn’t know better, you would think this was another normal rotation for them. But as all things, the joy goes as quickly as it comes when you look towards one particular member of the legion and find him standing near the Prince, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure the safety of the royal family. 

Maker, it truly was unfair how effortlessly attractive that man was. Whatever he was doing, even if he was merely lounging or standing quietly and doing nothing, he looked absolutely exquisite. And with every ounce of your being, you wished you were only physically attracted to him. But the opposite was true; the genuine dedication and care he upheld with everything that he did was what first caught your eye. Never have you met someone as tender and responsible as him. It would have been so much easier if you just found him objectively handsome, but like everything you’ve had to reevaluate recently, you knew whatever emotions stirring within you each time you are in his presence were based on more than his looks. It was such a dangerous thought process though, because for the first time since you were knighted, you genuinely debated ignoring the rules and confessing to him your feelings. He was everything you could ever want and so much more. 

Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of you. 

It was so unfortunate, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if the feelings were mutual, things would have been more complicated, more so for him than for you. So much would have been at stake, the most important being his position and well-being. But a part of you secretly hoped that he, at least, tolerated working with you. And you would have thought he did, if it weren’t for the fact that he tended to leave every time you were in the same room. Each suggestion you made, he would meet with some bit of hostility, not disrespect, but just irritation at the prospect of carrying out your commands. It was horrible. 

Yet it made you want him all the more. He had a sense of honor that he upheld more than most, a trait that was rare during these times. A characteristic that made you avoid him at every chance you could so as to not make him uncomfortable. You were not his General, but you were a General, one that he would have no choice but respect publicly. It made no sense to limit his whereabouts, certainly not during a time like this. 

Which is how you found yourself walking away each time he joined your company. If you were discussing an issue or two with Anakin and he joined, you would excuse yourself, telling both men that they could handle whatever the problem was without your help. If you were playing sabbac with Fives and Kix, and he sat beside them, you would feign a headache and leave, letting them know that you would get some rest. And if you were hanging around the royal family, learning about the Life Day Celebrations on their planet and saw him walking towards you, you would let them know that you were to make rounds for the night and exit the room, not once looking back as you left him behind. Granted, it made things especially difficult since you needed to discuss much with the Prince and his sister, and he was, somehow, always around you when you were with them, but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him further. 

Whatever grudge he held against you did not need to grow simply because of your ego. 

No. It was best you watched him from afar. It had to be.

You make your way towards one particularly large tree, hiding behind it in order to look at the man without anyone noticing. Always putting his job before anything else, Rex stands firmly in his place, arms crossed in front of him and lips pouting in attention. You allow your eyes to move down his form, and silently curse yourself when you realize where your mind may be racing towards. 

“Stare any harder and he might magically appear in front of you.” You shut your eyes and drop your face forward to hide the heated flush making its way towards your cheeks. Of course he knew where you’d be standing, and who you’d be daydreaming about. 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to the Prince about his involvement in the war?” You begrudgingly hiss at him, knowing that your reaction will be adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Anakin retorts instantly, making you wish you weren’t chosen for this mission. 

“I would, except everyone on this planet is currently into their third cup of Corellian whiskey so I highly doubt anyone will be paying attention.” You finally turn around and face Anakin, already hating the smirk on his face when he notices how flustered you are.

“Funny, that’s exactly why I’m not talking to him either.” He steps in front of you and rests his weight on the tree, throwing back a cup of maker knows what before handing it to you. 

“No, thank you.”

“You need it more than I do,” he shoves it one last time into your hands, nodding in victory when you take it and drink the rest of it down. You wince at the bitter taste but silently thank him for handing it to you. Neither of you say anything for a while, more entertained by the shenanigans of your men as they made absolute fools of themselves in front of the Dondrians. 

“You should really talk to him.” The sentiment irritates you more than it should. You know he means well, but given the circumstances, and who you were, you found the suggestion a little insensitive. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night.” You hand him back the cup, hand ensuring that your weapon is still on your hip before moving across the crowds. You don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, afraid they’d drag you into whatever game they were playing and force you to stay longer. 

But as you strut past your friends, something slowly pushes against the back of your mind, nagging you until you halt in your steps and study the forest. You stare across the groups of celebrations, turning around just in time to see Anakin running through his men. You push through the drunk masses, and only when you’re a few steps away from the royal family do you hear the high-pitched sound of a blaster going off. 

Without thinking much of the consequences, you sprint towards the upper table and violently shove Rex out of the way, shutting your eyes in pain when the blaster hits your side and barely misses the Prince and his sister. The joyful laughter quickly turns into panicked cries, and you look down at the two members of the family you were meant to be watching closely, praying to the maker that neither of them are injured or else this diplomatic journey would turn into a political nightmare. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask them both, sighing in relief when they pat each other down and realize that neither of them were hit. 

“Stay down,” you order the two of them, standing to your full height and igniting your lightsaber, but not before glancing to the side to make sure that Rex was unharmed. You feel your heart skip a beat when you find his eyes and see the anger swimming in them. 

“Don’t leave their side,” you tell Rex before taking off, already regretting the argument you will surely have with him when everything calms down. As if you needed to give him more reasons to dislike you. You will yourself to focus on finding the assassin, stopping in front of a group of clones to see which of them can follow you. 

“If you haven’t been drinking, follow me. The rest of you look after these people.” Five men stand to their feet at your command, already putting their helmets on to try and see where they should head. A part of you knows that you may have already lost this hunter in the crowd but you try to find him regardless, knowing that the celebrations may come to a halt and cause even more unrest with the Dondrians if you don’t at least try to find anything about him. 

You run towards the cluster of trees high on the hills, certain that it was the best vantage point where you can see everything unfolding within the crowds. But with each step you take, you feel the wound on your side burn in anger, begging you to take a moment of respite before resuming any movement. 

“You’ve been hit,” you don’t mean to snap at him, but Anakin’s remark sends you in a fit of irritation and you smack his hand away when he tries to move your robe to the side to get a better look at the bleeding gash. 

“No shit, genius.” His eyes narrow at your tone, but you know he isn’t taking any offense to your little outburst. You’re about to head to higher ground when you feel a hand grab at your arm and pull you back. 

“Enough, you and I both know we won’t find him. Not now at least. Come on.” He motions for his men to stand down, and they all look between you and him before they head down the hill first. As much as you hate to admit it, you know Anakin’s right, and you reluctantly sheath your lightsaber again before following him towards the calming throngs of people surrounding the royal family. As you bump into the soldiers, you do your best to refrain from reacting to the searing pain beating at your side, knowing that Anakin will make sure Kix doesn’t allow you to so much as breathe the wrong way. You couldn’t afford getting his attention, not when you could feel the eyes of a certain clone staring daggers into the back of your head as you paused and stood in front of him to speak with the Prince. You see him engage in a conversation with Anakin, worried at the prospect of anyone in his family getting hurt due to his recent change in political stance. 

“While I can appreciate the importance of this issue, we need to get you inside.” You turn between him and your old friend, waiting quietly until they acknowledge your suggestion before moving behind them towards the gate of the city. Making sure that each member of the inner circle is accompanied by a couple of your men, you stay back to rest your side, turning your eyes to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything but the excruciating burning beating at your skin. You’re almost distracted too when you feel a hand rest on your back while another holds your upper arm. 

“You need to go to medbay.” The calm, soothing voice of none other than the man you’ve been doing your best to avoid signals a wave of heat to course across your body, and before you can try and argue with him, you feel lightheaded, the adrenaline finally leaving your body completely with nothing but a faint memory of what had happened. You brace yourself on his shoulders, shaking your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him when you look up and see the angry grimace from before returning with a vengeance. 

“If it’s all the same to you Captain, I think it’s best I just go and rest. No need for medbay.” You try to let go of his shoulders but as soon as you take a step back, your body sways and nearly falls over. His arms brace against him, and had you been a little more present, maybe a little more mischievous, you would have asked him to buy you dinner first. But you weren’t too conscious of what was happening, so you accept the help quietly, not bothering to say anything even when Kix comes around and supports your weight as well. 

“With all due respect sir, Rex may not outrank you, but I do…when it comes to your wellbeing at least. Come on.” You miss the way he looks at Rex, and you definitely don’t notice Rex’s clenched jaw as he reluctantly lets go and makes sure you won’t fall over. And you unfortunately don’t see the look Rex gives you, guilty that you felt the need to push him out of harm’s way and take the hit instead. 

The three of you walk in silence back to the city, and when you get to base, you glance back at Rex and frown when you see how angry he is with you. Had you been more aware however, you would have realized that he was not upset with you, but at this whole situation. As soon as you enter medbay, you lay down in one of the beds, hissing in pain when your lightsaber accidentally brushes the open gash on your side. 

“Let me take this,” Rex moves to your side and attempts to grab your weapon, but you flinch at the sudden movement, eyes panicked at the prospect of not having your lightsaber with you, even though you were perfectly safe here. 

“You don’t have to, I-”

“General, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He sighs heavily, the reaction hurting you more than it should. Of course he thought you were a burden. He was probably supposed to be with Anakin but felt the need to remain by your side out of duty. You don’t mean to, but your hand falls back in defeat, eyes watering almost instantly at being such an inconvenience to him. If he notices the way you react to his words, he says nothing and approaches you slowly once more, as if he was walking towards a wounded, helpless animal. He says nothing as he unclips the lightsaber from your side and clasps it on his own belt. 

“Rex, I need you to leave.” Kix interrupts as he walks towards you, pointing at the door so Rex could leave. 

“Why?” You think he’s being a little defensive, but you brush the thought aside, knowing for a fact that there is no reason why the Captain of the 501st would want to stay behind just for you. 

“Because it’s my job to take her armor off and treat her, not yours. Get out!” Kix is more assertive than before, and you shut your eyes to avoid looking at either of them as they continue to talk about you. Something shifts in the air but you choose to ignore it as well, barely managing to open your eyes and gaze at Rex when he whispers in return. 

“I’ll be outside.” He looks at you as if the last thing he wishes to do is leave this room, and you’re not sure what prompts you to, but you nod in acknowledgement to let him know that you’re thankful for him, watching him exit the room, but not without looking back at you one last time. As the door slides shut behind him, Kix silently removes your armor and clothes, not bothering to say anything else as he begins cleansing the wound and suturing it. 

You’re not sure how long you’re on that bed, but when the medic lets you know that he’s almost done, you realize that you’ve been clenching your hands the entire time. Relaxing your muscles completely, you thank him and sit up, waiting until he covers your side with a bacta patch before standing fully again.

“You know, if I have to stand around one more minute and watch the two of you act like…like fucking bantha, I might just shoot myself and be done with it.” Kix says with a smirk, not caring for your passive aggressive remark as he applies the patch and pushes a little too hard on the skin to get you to be quiet. 

“You’re a medic Kix, not a therapist.” 

“Yeah well, someone’s going to have to tell you both to get your heads out of your asses…respectfully sir.” Once again, you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, not bothering to wait until he puts the armor back on before grabbing it and walking to the closest mirror to see what he’s done. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say in passing, irritated and confused by his choice in words. 

“Sure you don’t.” You’re about to respond when he opens the door to the room and calls for Rex to come back. Surprisingly, it takes a few seconds for Rex to come and stand beside you again, studying your features as you look at the covered wound and try to see which movements hurt and which don’t.

“The wound isn’t too deep but it is pretty large. It should heal in the next few hours, assuming you switch the bacta patch and put on a new one. In the meantime, I’d suggest you don’t partake in any serious, physical activity…unless of course you’re with-” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You turn around quickly and snap at him, mentally patting yourself on the back when you see his smile drop instantly at the realization that he may have gone just a little too far. You quickly glance at Rex and find him confused at your outburst, but he says nothing and instead unclips the lightsaber from his belt and returns it to you. For a brief second, your fingers pass against his softly, and you feel chills run down your spine at how calloused and warm they felt against your own. 

“Thank you,” you whisper your gratitude to Kix one last time before practically sprinting out of the room, feeling the frustration rise deep within your chest when you notice Rex falling into step with you. You had hoped that he wouldn’t follow you back, mostly because you were planning on visiting the Prince to ensure that he understands not to be seen by anyone until you’ve resolved this rather problematic hiccup. 

“I’m sure there is something more worth your time Captain…you can leave if you wish.” You say assertively, praying to the Force that he reads between the lines and leaves you to your devices. 

“If it’s all the same to you General, I think it’s best I make sure you return to your quarters safely.” You expected his response, but hearing it irks you more than you initially thought and you speed up in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“While I appreciate your concern, I am of help to no one if I return to my rooms. Where’s Anakin?”

“He is with the Prince. Sir, I strongly request for you to return to your room.” Ever the Captain, he doesn’t budge once in his stance and catches up to you, going as far as taking a few more steps until he stops ahead and forces you to slow down. 

“Captain, please.”

“You'll be helpful to no one if you can’t keep up.” He crosses his arms and stares straight into your eyes, not once caring for how you could easily write him up for insubordination. 

“I need to see Anakin, I think I have a plan to catch this assassin.” You take a deep breath and relay your intentions to him, preparing yourself for an onslaught of questions and push back to the plan you have in mind. 

“How do you know it’s an assassin and not a bounty hunter?” You notice the way his body language shifts from defensive to a more curious, even docile manner. 

“No one in their right mind would come to Dondri during the Life Day Celebrations just to kidnap a member of the royal family. Also, I’m fairly certain he was aiming straight at his head.”

“And how do you plan on catching him?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, making you wish he wasn’t standing so close to you so you’re affected by every little detail you keep observing about him. Shaking the thought aside, you take advantage of his distracted mind, walking around him and continuing towards the royal palace. 

“By giving him exactly who he wants.”

“Sir, please.” He calls out to you one last time, this time with an exasperated sigh that you wish was out of care and not duty.  

“Captain, your request is noted.” You turn around one last time against your better judgement, watching closely as Rex’s pout deepens before he switches his attention to the ground. You study him then, wondering why he was suddenly so intent on your well being. It’s not as if he never showed any concern before, but there was something strange now, something you chalked up to what you did earlier. 

You almost tell him to accompany you to Anakin, but then remember what he might say when he finds out what you have in mind to catch this man. Footsteps echo in the hallway as you practically run to Anakin, and you’re glad when you find him standing alone outside the Prince’s quarters. He looks up when he hears the frantic stomps growing closer, his expression falling as soon as he realizes it’s you approaching him. 

“Wow, you should be resting. What are you doing here?” He’s half-concerned, half-surprised, the faint lines of a smile betraying how irritated he is at seeing you.

“I think I know how to catch this guy.” You straighten up, gazing at your friend until his apprehensiveness gives way to genuine interest. 

“I’m listening.” Anakin pushes away from the wall, eyes narrowing at you as he turns fully to face you. 

“I highly doubt he will want to try again in such a crowded place so he will definitely wait till the Prince is by himself.” You step closer to him, anchoring your thoughts to the best of your abilities as the pain in your side begins to return once more. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head strongly, frowning at whatever idea you had in store for him. 

“Listen. We will give him what he wants, or at least, what he thinks he wants.” Anakin’s gaze shoots up then, and you watch the moment his confusion turns into a deep interest and desire to solve the issue.

“Elaborate.” His jaw is tight, and you brace yourself for whatever reaction he gives when you tell him about your idea.

“He knows how important his Celebration is, and he also knows that part of it involves the King-to-be going out into the lake and offering blessings to the gods on behalf of his subjects. So, we make him think the Prince is actually going out there.” Your voice is low but even, pausing in your explanation to gauge Anakin’s reaction. 

“You’re suggesting a decoy?” His gaze is steady but you don’t budge, not wanting to give him any reason to think you are unready or reluctant to lead the mission. 

“Yes, I am.” You nod confidently, glancing behind you and biting into your cheek when you see Rex walking toward the two of you. 

“So the Prince will be safe in his quarters the whole time.”

“Yes,” you exhale through your nose, bracing yourself for the question you’re sure will be asked at any moment now.

“And who’s the lucky guy that will replace him?” He throws his hands up then, as if to say he doesn’t agree with the plan but has no choice.

“Me.” You don’t flinch as you respond immediately, shutting your eyes to calm yourself when you hear Rex’s outburst next to you. 

“No.”

“Pardon me?” You turn to face him, not bothering to control your aggressive tone as you ask him to repeat himself. Rex can tell you don’t appreciate his response, passively shaking his head and glancing between you and Anakin to try and indirectly ask your friend for help. 

“I…don’t think that’s wise.” He repeats again, and you miss the way Anakin hides his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t shoot me, but I think I agree with Rex on this one.” It’s Anakin’s turn to pitch in, his voice harder than before and making you wish you didn’t get easily rattled by such minimal details. 

“Well, good thing I outrank the both of you.” You know better than to say something so superficial, and you shrug your shoulders when Anakin replies straight away with an annoyed lilt in his voice. 

“You don’t outrank me!”

“Okay, yes but…you’re still healing. I’m all for taking risks-” You cut him off then, not appreciating the hypocrisy of his words and actions. 

“But not when it’s someone else?” Standing your ground, you meet his gaze and search his face for any sign of hesitation, knowing that he has already agreed to your suggestion when he shifts his weight and pretends to still think about it. 

“Why not me?” He asks quietly, the question meant less to argue and more to keep the peace. 

“Because I’d rather we take this guy alive. Sorry Ani, but I don’t exactly guarantee the outcome with you.” You feel bad for critiquing his tactics but you don’t back down, wanting him to know that you prepared to see this to the end. 

“Fair enough.”

“Good, you can tell the Prince our plan. Make him address the people in an hour, something along the lines of ‘he won’t be bullied out of his duty’ and then we can head down to the lake.” Stepping aside, you walk around both men while telling them what to do, wanting to deal with this hiccup as soon as possible so you can address the real reasons behind your visit to the planet. 

“Where are you going?” Anakin asks, gesturing between himself and the room behind him. 

“Get dressed. I need to look the part.”

Going back to your room, you do your best to think of the task at hand, but with every question you ask yourself, you find your thoughts shifting towards Rex. A part of you wishes he only objected because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but the more irrational side of your brain is convinced it’s only because he doesn’t trust your judgement. You’ve never given him any reason to doubt your abilities, so you aren’t sure why he still can’t accept your discernment. 

As you step into the room, you strip down and walk towards your case, bringing out a new pair of robes and placing them on the bed. You make your way to the refresher and freshen up, doing your best to put the discomfort in your side out of your mind. When you hear the sound of the broadcasting, you forgo switching the bacta patch and get dressed quickly, afraid Anakin will move ahead without you. You return to the Prince’s quarters in record time, hood placed over your head to shield you from any prying eyes not meant to know it’s you. Stopping in front of Anakin, you make sure there are guards posted inside and outside the royal rooms, quickly letting him know that none of the servants know the plan to avoid anyone saying anything to the wrong person. 

“You ready?” Anakin asks, leaning into your space to gauge your reaction while pretending to protect you as you walk towards the nearby lake.

“Let me get back to you on that.” You chuckle in response, pretending your attention isn’t on the annoyed Captain flanking your other side. 

“Hey, it was your idea.” Anakin straightens up once more, eyes studying the slowly growing crowds seeing you to the lake 

“It sure was.” Your answer is clipped, mostly because you can tell that Rex isn’t getting any calmer beside you. 

“I hate this.” The three words are whispered, yet the way in which Rex says them makes you wish you could ask him here and now when he was so adamant on letting you know he doesn’t agree with your decision.

“You have something on your mind Captain?”

“Yes, loads as a matter of fact.” It’s the first time Rex answers in such an abrupt, curt manner. Before, he used to offer a silent apology if he spoke out of line, but seeing his anger sizzle deeper with each step you took towards the lake makes you all the more irritable. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” You answer monotonously, not bothering to hide how vexed you feel from the constant bickering with him. 

“Hey guys, as much as I appreciate your flirting, let’s focus here. You’ll be on the boat by yourself and we won’t be anywhere near until we see someone coming towards you. If things take a turn and you find yourself in a particularly awkward position, just push this button and we’ll come to you.” The two of you face Anakin, and while Rex looks away embarrassingly, you stare at your friend, silently telling him to watch himself and not test you. 

“That won’t be necessary, I’m going with her on the boat.” The ease with which Rex replies grabs your attention right away, and it’s your turn to be at the receiving end of his sheepish expression. You wonder if he knows how uneasy he looks returning your gaze.

Or how unfairly handsome he is as he leaves no room for discussion. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t blink once, meeting your adamance with a stubbornness you’ve never seen before. 

“Captain, if he sees you coming on the boat, he will not come.” Anakin tries to alleviate the tension but neither of you back down, wanting the other to step away first. 

“I’m not taking a chance with you. And…he won’t see me coming on the boat, not if I swim out to you and climb on.” The firmness with which he explains himself nearly makes you think there’s more to this offer than meets the eye, and you forgo proprietary to ask him what he means by not wanting to take a chance with you. 

“Captain, you’re-”

“Why do you constantly make things difficult for me?” He cuts you off then, the swift question quiets you immediately and forces you to look ahead, away from the company surrounding you. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Anakin whispers and you hate how he always wants to get the final word in. You walk the rest of the way in absolute silence, your mind flickering with hope at the prospect of Rex feeling anything other than despise for you. 

“We’re here.” 

“Good luck.” Anakin snaps you out of your haze as he readies the boat, and you nod at him before stepping onto it. You undo the rope, and make your way to the front of the swaying sail, not bothering to turn around when you feel it moving softly through the water. You focus on the dark body of water ahead of you, looking up to the sky and marveling at the twinkling stars as they shine above you. Only when you hear faint scratching at the hull of the boat do you remember what you’re supposed to do. Waiting until the boat is angled ahead and away from the shore, you turn on the comm link and step forward to see where Rex is hanging on.

“Are we far enough from shore?” You ask Anakin, praying you receive an affirmative answer quickly so Rex can get out of the cold water. 

“Yes,” Anakin gives you the go-ahead, and you pull the hood of your cloak higher before turning on the lights around the boat to offer a brief distraction. 

“Permission to come on board, General?” Rex asks strenuously, and you wonder if this is his attempt at being civil.

“Granted, come up before you freeze to death.” He pulls himself up right away, and you point to the small room in the lower deck, not wanting him to be seen by anyone that may be watching you. 

“Stay low.” You whisper to him, wishing you could take your cloak off and offer it to him so he can get warmer. 

The slow rocking of the boat lulls you into a fake sense of peace, and you force yourself to remain passive to the presence of the man behind you. The lights flicker softly around you, and when you lean over to touch one of the ornaments hanging on the cords, a shooting pain coursing across your abdomen prevents you from moving so much as a muscle. 

“How’s your side?” Rex notices you wincing and almost approaches you, but you shake your head to prevent him from coming up the deck. 

“It’s fine.” You clench your fists tightly as you right yourself, not wanting to appear suspicious. It’s quiet for a few minutes before you decide to return whatever civility Rex was attempting to offer you. 

“Hmm, it’s quite beautiful out here.” Your eyes are glued to the night sky, completely missing the way Rex longingly gazes at you when he agrees. 

“Yes, it is.” A shiver runs down your spine at the low, whispered tone of his voice, and when you turn your attention towards him, you find him shaking from the cold air seeping through his armor. 

“You’re cold.” There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue, and Rex must see how bad you feel about this because he shrugs his shoulders and tells you otherwise. 

“I’ll manage.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I really don’t understand why you were adamant on coming with me.” It’s not what you want to say to Rex, far from it. But you know for a fact you can’t be straightforward and ask him why he didn’t back down and decided to join you. 

“It is my job to protect you.” Again, you’re thrown off by how soft and docile he sounds, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not turn around and stare into his eyes as you ask him the next question. 

“Job? Is that the only reason why you’re here?”

“Y-yes. Why else would I turn down shore leave?” Had he not hesitated, you would have believed him and dropped the subject. But something about the way he becomes defensive makes you think there may be another reason he isn’t too keen on sharing. 

“What I don’t understand is why you would turn down shore leave to serve with someone you can’t stand the sight of. That’s what I don’t understand.” You know better than to bring attention to the bantha in the room, but you figure if you addressed the animosity, he might finally tell you why he isn’t your biggest fan. The last thing you expect, though, is the defensive retaliation he exudes in response. 

“Can’t stand? Who…who are you talking about?”

“Come on Captain, feigning ignorance doesn’t suit you.” You huff in frustration, not wanting to elaborate further and make this any more awkward. 

“With all due respect sir, you are not making any sense.” He chuckles then, and as beautiful as the sound is, it sets your teeth on edge. How dare he see this as a laughing matter?

“It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you find it barely tolerable to be in the same vicinity as me. So I ask again, why did you miss out on a much deserved break to be here?” Against your better judgment, you turn around and face him, not caring for anything happening outside this moment. 

“What gave you the impression that I can’t stand you?” Rex stands up and takes a step up towards you, the smile on his face falling instantly when he realizes that you weren’t joking. You were being dead serious. And you definitely believed everything you just said to him. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that anytime we’re in the same room, you find it difficult to stay for more than a few minutes before leaving. Or…or how you constantly meet each one of my tactical suggestions with an unfavorable reaction. Or the fact that you treat me like a child when I’ve clearly proven myself capable of handling any tough situation with ease. Any of these ring a bell?” You’re breathing heavily, unable to look away from him even though you wish you could be anywhere else but in front of the man that has simultaneously inspired so many mixed emotions ever since he came into your life.

“I- I’m…” He hesitates, and you almost feel bad for throwing so much at him at such an inopportune time. When his frown deepens and his eyes shift to the ground, you shake your head and return to observing the lights all around the boats. You envy the little balls of light, wishing you were one of them as they continued to flicker and not give a single care to anything happening around them. 

“I am sorry…for ever making you feel all those things when they are the farthest from the truth.” His words cut through you like a long, thin needle, and you find yourself reluctantly turning around to face him once more, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining what he just admitted. 

“I hold you in the highest regard General, and if I ever push back on your commands, it’s never out of respect, but concern. Pure concern.” He swallows nervously, waiting until he has your undivided attention before continuing to confess his own doubts. 

“If anything, I feel as if you’ve been actively avoiding me this entire week. With each turn, you somehow find an excuse to leave before I can join your company.” The revelation is enough to set your heart racing, and you have to shut your eyes to focus on calming yourself as you address his impression.

“I- well I just thought that I was bothering you and I figured it wouldn’t make sense if you felt limited simply because I’m around. I wanted to give you the freedom to do whatever you desired, without me standing in the way.” It’s your turn to clear the ruminating misunderstanding, and only when Rex responds shyly do you realize that you’re the source of months and months of misjudgment. 

“I see.” Rex is defeated, and you wish you hadn’t brought this up while you’re in the middle of the mission because you want nothing more than to join him down in the lower deck and tell him how sorry you are for causing him to question himself. 

“It seems you have every right to think me unfit to lead after all. All these assumptions lead to months of misunderstandings, all because of me.” You break the silence, trying your best to not let either of your revelations bring tears to your eyes. You fist your hands tightly to hold yourself back from doing something that might make him uncomfortable.  

“Never, I’d never think that of you.” He meets your eyes instantly, shaking his head and waiting until you accept his peace offering before moving back down to the lower deck.

“I guess it’s best if we just…start fresh.” You say with a faint smile, feeling your chest collapse slowly when Rex returns the smile and nods in agreement. 

“As you wish, sir.”

The night air shifts following those four simple words, and you blink a few times at Rex before returning to your place. You’re not sure how long you’re on that boat, but when the wind picks up, you hope things don’t take a turn for the worse before you catch the assassin who, up until a few minutes ago, you were convinced would have already come to you. Rex is awfully quiet and when you glance behind you, you see him holding a small ornament in his hand, the shape of which is unclear until he looks up and notices you staring at him. He shyly shows it to you, and you smile at him when you note what it is. 

“Gorgeous bird, isn’t it?” 

“What is it?” He gazes at the delicate ornament, its red surface shimmering with flecks of gold and crimson under the soft glow of the night sky and the lights dusted all around the boat. 

“It’s a phoenix, a legendary bird that captivates whoever comes across it in the wild with its vibrant colors and remarkable life cycle.” You watch as Rex marvels at how something so small could evoke such warmth, wondering if he knows that he inspires similar feelings in you. 

“It’s particularly special to the Dondrians because it’s believed to have originated on their world. Its symbolism of renewal and immortality makes it the perfect representation of what Life Day means to them.” 

“What do you mean?” Gently, he turns it in his hands, unwilling to let go of it as he hangs it back where he found it, completely enchanted by its quiet beauty and whom it reminds him of. 

“Well, it lives for several hundred years until it reaches a point where it builds a nest of aromatic wood and sets itself ablaze.” You can tell your words surprise him because he looks from you to the small ornament of the bird, face falling at the thought of a bird practically ending its own life. 

“It…it kills itself?”

“Yes, and no. As the flames consume it, it is reborn from its own ashes, emerging more radiant and young than before. This cycle of death and rebirth represents the very idea of Life Day…of destruction coming from new life, of the importance of transformation, resilience, and hope. The way it embraces its own death and resurrection encourages others to embrace change and look forward to new beginnings.” The way in which he seems to hold on to every single word you say lights a little blaze of hope deep in your soul, and you pray to the maker that whatever change in your relationship lasts long after tonight comes to an end. Rex nods in understanding, trailing his fingers across the glass bird before switching his attention to similar ornaments hanging all around the two of you. 

“They say any representation of the phoenix is supposedly enchanted.” You don’t want the conversation to end, and your smile widens when you see how suddenly interested Rex is in the bird’s mythology.

“Enchanted?”

“Hmm. If you hold that ornament in your hand and wish for anything…anything in this universe, it will fall right into your lap soon after and mark the beginning of a new chapter.” Not even a second later, Rex is taking the phoenix in his hand once more, shutting his eyes and murmuring something to himself. You watch with fascination how utterly captivated he is by the sentiment, and you wonder what he could possibly wish for so quickly. When his eyes flutter open and he finds you already staring at him, he puts the ornament down and stands up, his facial expression turning a lot more serious than a moment ago. 

“Sir, I-” “Heads up, someone’s coming.” Anakin cuts him off and you curse the timing of your guest’s arrival. You shut the comm link off completely, mouthing a quick apology to Rex as he moves out of sight while preparing his blaster. You face away from the sound of the approaching boat and pretend to flinch as soon as you hear a loud crashing sound signal the arrival of your wanted man. 

“You’re dumber than they told me, more conceited too.” The accent is not lost on you, and you file that little bit of information for later. The wind howls across the water, and you begin to move but hear a warning that prevents you from facing the assassin. 

“Ah ahh, turn around slowly.” You hold your hands up as you obey the command, no longer bothering to hide yourself as you fully face him. His breath, a lot calmer than now, comes in short, panicked bursts. His expression falls completely, and you can tell you were the last person he was expecting to see from the fearful air about him. 

“You? Where…where is the Prince?” The smirk you could hear before no longer tugs at his lips, his tone more taunting than now that he knew his mission is not possible.

“Like you said, it would have been extremely absurd if we allowed him to come out here by himself.” His eyes widen in horror, and you tilt your head slightly, hesitating to say more when his figure trembles at the mere sight of you. 

“You’re a Jedi! You’re the one who saved him.”

“Don’t try anything, you’re surrounded and it won’t be easy to escape.” You reply coolly, gaze sharp and unwavering as recognition flashes across his face. 

“This doesn’t have to end badly. Tell me who hired you.” You raise your hand slightly, a subtle warning that you hope he would take to heart and not test. His shoulders sag at the dangerous lilt in your voice, his breathing growing more erratic at the thought of being your captive. 

“I- I can’t.” Sweat glistens on his brow as you meet his aggression with an eerie calmness. 

“We can help you, please.” Your voice is softer now, still firm but not as menacing as before. Taking a step closer to him, you try to impose some sense of tranquility, but his jaws only tighten, his gaze farting around the empty lake in an attempt to find an answer to his predicament. 

“No, you can’t. No one can…if I don’t kill the Prince, he’ll kill me.” His voice cracks, and you watch as his eyes glisten with something between terror and acceptance of what will surely happen now that he failed in his mission. 

“Who?” Your question is followed by a panicked raising of the blaster to your head, and before you can give him another warning glance, you hear Rex ascend behind you, blaster aimed at the man’s head and fingers ready to pull the trigger. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rex’s tone adds fuel to the fire, the tension rippling along with the waves hitting the hull of the ship. 

“Stand down Captain.” You turn your gaze to Rex, not wanting him to make matters worse.

“I can’t do that sir.” Rex’s voice is tight, and he doesn’t bother meeting your eyes, knowing that if he were to look at you, the man in front of him might take the distraction as an advantage. 

“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill all of us.” The words tumble out in a frenzy, making you fist your hands tightly in discomfort. You ignore Rex for the time being, slowly stepping towards the assailant to try and calm him down once more. 

“Just tell me who he is and I will make sure you’re safe.” Your voice cuts through the hysteria for a second, and you think you can manage to make him put the blaster down without controlling him, but then he whisks the blaster away from you and towards Rex, the reaction instantly making you see red. 

“No, you’re all dead. We’re all dead.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This conversation is between you and me, not him.” Your tone drops, no longer friendly or soothing, but searing with displeasure at the sudden change of events. 

“I’m warning you, this doesn’t have to turn ugly.” You try one last time to make him put the blaster down, but sensing the shift in his demeanor, you light your lightsaber just as he shakes his head in madness and readies the blaster. There’s something strange about the way he continues to look up at the lightning shining across the sky, and you follow his line of sight to see if someone is approaching. His panicked movement increases as the crashing sound of thunder increases, and you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of why he was reacting so drastically to the weather. You find yourself lacking sympathy for him, not because of what he’s done, but because of what you see he’s about to do.

“It’s done, we’re- we’re all d-”

You don’t let him finish, sending your lightsaber straight into his chest before dragging it back to your hands. Neither you nor Rex say anything for a moment, and only when you feel the boat rock violently do you finally snap out of the momentary haze you’re in and tell Rex to hold onto something. 

“Pfassk, we need to get back to shore before this storm drowns us.” You’re afraid to look at Rex, unsure of what you’d find swimming in his eyes, if he’s disappointed, shocked or simply disturbed by how easily you took the man’s life. You reach out to the lake bank, focusing on bringing the sail closer to dry land as quickly as possible out of fear of putting Rex’s life and your own in any more danger. It takes longer than you like, but as soon as you reach Anakin, you exit the boat and remove your cloak, quickly handing it over to Rex before asking the others to drag the dead body away. 

“What happened?”

“He was manic…violent.” Rex answers Anakin’s question when you remain quiet, and as Anakin tries to learn anything from the soulless body, you stop pacing behind him and apply pressure to your side, the lack of adrenaline making way for a familiar, stabbing pain. 

“This fucking weather happened. He- maker, he would have listened to me. He would have, but the lightning terrified him. It was almost as if he thought it was after him.”

“So you killed him?” Anakin holds his hands up in question, not understanding why you changed your mind when you were the one who told him why you had to be on that boat, and not him. 

“No, I killed him because he aimed his blaster the wrong way.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable to you, and you watch as your old friend shrugs his shoulders before telling his men to take away the body. 

“We need to leave, or else we’ll get caught in this storm.” You remind them one last time, waiting until they start moving before turning around and looking to gauge Rex’s reaction to this whole ordeal. 

“Tell the Prince they can resume their festivities tonight if they wish. Assuming this doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” You tell Anakin, who nods in agreement and sprints ahead, not wanting to waste any more time outside now that the problem was “solved.”

“You don’t think there’ll be another?” Rex asks and you shake your head instantly, elaborating on why you think there isn’t another assassin running around. 

“No, whoever is behind this wouldn’t take the chance. One wouldn’t talk, two is too high a probability.” You meet his eyes for longer than you deem appropriate, and when he looks away first, you study your surroundings before heading behind Anakin, towards the royal palace. 

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room, I think diplomacy can wait till tomorrow. Good night Captain.” You don’t bother turning around as you respond to him, knowing that you won’t be able to hold back from apologizing for your actions if you see an unfavorable expression aimed at you. 

An oddly familiar warmth engulfs you the farther you walk away from Rex, and it’s only when you’re back in your room that you realize what that sensation is. You’re confused as to how you could possibly be receptive to Rex’s feelings, but it occurs to you that you may be feeling a fraction of his own emotions simply because he’s allowing you to. Of course it may be unintentional on his side, but be that as it may, a part of him is so in tune with you that the Force decided to connect you to each other, or at least, make you respond to him on a much deeper level than you ever thought possible. 

You stand in the middle of your quarters, recalling every single word you’ve exchanged with Rex during the past rotation. As upset as you are with how certain things turned out, you come to appreciate them all, especially the fact that the two of you were sent on this mission together. You were finding the Life Day Celebrations extremely difficult to enjoy because of your relationship with the Captain, but if anything was proven in the past few hours, it’s that the time of year was truly on your side. 

You make your way to the refresher and find the bacta patch Kix gave you earlier, sighing irritatingly when you realize you forgot to change it. You strip off your clothes and stand in front of the mirror, biting into your cheek as you remove the bacta patch and throw it away. You find the wound almost healed, and you thank the maker you wouldn’t have to deal with it for a longer period. Letting it breathe for a few seconds, you walk around and turn on the hot water, wanting to bathe in a nice, warm bath before whatever you will have to do tomorrow. You move back to the mirror and unsheath the replacement patch, slowly applying it on your skin, and shivering when the cold chemicals make contact with the wound and the skin surrounding it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Rex has debriefed with Anakin and was already heading your way, wanting to make sure that you made it back safely and weren’t in need of anything. He hesitates for a long moment before knocking softly on your door several times, and when he doesn’t hear a response, he unlocks the door and walks in, taking in the small space before calling out for you again. He frowns at the lack of response, knowing that you were in much need of a good night rest. The room is dim, illuminated only by the light filtering through the windows behind the bed. Thinking that you didn’t make it back yet, he’s about to exit when he hears your groans echo through the refresher.

“Sir?” Rex tries, and when your whines only grow louder, he takes out his blaster and readies himself for whatever threat is in the refresher with you. The muffled sounds only grow, and he’s alarmed at the prospect of what he might find when he barges in. Taking calculated steps across the room, he finds the door to the refresher slightly ajar, and as soon as the quiet moan of discomfort reverberates in his ears, he takes two quick strides and pushes the door open, scanning the room in an attempt to find the source of your pained grunts. When he sees you standing half-naked in the middle of the refresher, with your hands massaging the skin around the wound, he lowers his blaster and shuts his eyes, cursing at his lack of sensibility. 

“Ahh kriffing hells. Oh maker, I- I’m sorry General. I thought that you were harmed and- pfassk.” Rex stammers through an apology, his face growing heated at catching you in such a vulnerable state. The tub beside you is half-full, and Rex feels his armor tightening around his crotch, images of you moaning in ecstasy as the water relieved all of your pain making him wish he was anywhere else but here. 

“That’s okay Rex,” you cut him off when you see his face burning with embarrassment, and you do your best to not dwell on the heat from before suddenly wrapping around you like a tight, weighted blanket. It’s endearing how shy he is being with you, and you’re about to giggle at his overreaction when you turn around and find his eyes set on you. There’s a different expression on his handsome features now, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, unsure of why he was looking at you in such an intimate way. 

“What?” You decide to ask, knowing that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they already have.

“I’ve never heard you say my name before.” The comment throws you off guard, and you look around the foggy room, hoping to find a response written somewhere. You meet his gaze again, and notice his body language relax, as if the sound of his name on your lips was all he needed to hear to grow more comfortable with you. 

“That can’t be true.” You know he’s not wrong, but you are also aware that you’ve called his name about a thousand times in the privacy of your room. You’ve called his name more often than you care to admit, but he had no way of knowing that, not when, up until a few hours ago, he genuinely thought you disliked him. 

“Believe me, I would remember it if you did.” He chuckles at you, the sound far from humorous and fully self-deprecating. There’s nothing comforting you can say to him, and you rub your temples to alleviate the sudden throbbing ache circling around your head. When he doesn’t move, you walk across the room to shut off the running water, distracting yourself from the predicament you now found yourself in. 

“Is there something you needed, Captain? I’m not exactly dressed for a debriefing but we’ll have to make do.” You stand up and motion around the room, wanting to get this over with so you can drown in self-pity when you’re left alone. 

“No General, I only wanted to- well, I came here to see if…” He’s tripping over his words, and it would be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he just indirectly admitted to you what he felt when you called his name. 

“I know I’m not exactly being professional here but, since when do you get so tongue-tied around me?” You test the waters against your better judgement, wanting to see how far you can take this before one of you cracks. Rex shakes his head in defeat, and you realize that there’s no point in taking this any further, not when the man in front of you refused to cross the professional boundaries setting you apart. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Okay, here’s the thing Rex. I am freezing cold, and from what I’ve heard, the water won’t stay heated for a long time, especially during this weather. So until you decide what you want to do here, I will be getting in.” You take your slippers off and take a few steps around the tub, completely missing the puddle that collected from the flowing water.

“CAReful!” Rex is behind you in the blink of an eye, arms caging you against his chest to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself. You grab onto his arms to right yourself but the floor is too wet, and you find yourself awfully closer to him than a second ago. You meet his gaze and are suddenly mesmerized by the hazel green of his eyes, the ones you can barely see around his dilated pupils. 

“Kriff, that would have been a really bad fall. Thank you.” Your attempt at a joke is met with a serious expression, and you drop the smile when Rex slowly steps away from the slippery floor to help you stand up. He lets go of you as soon as you stand up, and you find yourself a little hurt at how quickly he wants to step away from you. 

“For a Jedi, your reflexes sure are slow.” The comment is far from insulting, meant to diffuse the tension rising due to the circumstances, but for some reason, your mind decides to make things worse and respond with a statement that is far from harmless. 

“I guess we’re even now.” Rex’s expression falls as he continues staring at you, and he doesn’t dare say anything in return as he walks around you and makes his way out of the refresher. Something in the way he seems to be genuinely hurt by your comment makes you run after him and pull his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stops but doesn’t face you, and you suspect it may be because he is angry with how you make light of such a crucial moment. 

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t- don’t be mad at me. I know we barely resolved our misunderstanding but I- I just… just don’t leave.” Your voice cracks as you practically beg him to stay, and only when he takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders slightly do you finally let go of him.

“You think I’m angry with you?” He turns around slowly and frowns at you, questioning your apology in a way that makes you think you were completely in the wrong. 

“Aren’t you?” You nervously play with your fingers, looking away from him when you can’t bear the scrutiny of his hurt impression any longer.

“No, maker no. I have never once, in my life, felt anything other than respect for you.” He reaches out for you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to make sure you are listening to every word he’s saying.

“Oh,” unfortunately for Rex, you misunderstand his confession and sag your shoulders in disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything more for you. Why would he? You’ve given him no reason to feel a fraction of what you’ve felt for him for so long. 

“I am not angry with you, mesh’la. I am angry at the prospect of you thinking my life is more important than yours, at you forgoing your principles just to save me.” Rex sees the way you shift uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling heavily between you. His gaze is steady, and you can’t help but return it when you see the fierce protectiveness he’s exuding, one you had not expected to encounter in such an intimate setting. 

“You- you jumped in harm’s way to save me, not even thinking of your own well-being. And later…on the boat, I saw the way you changed when he aimed his blaster at me.” He clarifies further, the revelation sending goosebumps down your arms and forcing you to step closer to him. You furrow your eyebrows at the implication behind his words, placing your hands on his chest without caring for any repercussions. 

“Of course I did, what else would you expect me to do?”

“Not sacrifice yourself for someone like me.” His answer comes in heated, and the level of hurt you feel rising in your throat makes you push him away from you. 

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” You snap at him, shaking your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing from him of all people. 

“I’m not as important as you are. I’m replaceable.” Rex must not expect such a reaction because he steps towards you right away, grabbing both of your wrists to speak words that he doesn’t realize hurt you more than him. 

“You- you think your life isn’t worth mine? Why…why would you even say that Rex? What makes you think you can even believe something so far from the truth?” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him, voice trembling with emotion at the thought of Rex believing something absolutely false. He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words as you melt into his arms. 

“Because I’m that one that should protect you. I should be the one making sure you’re safe.” He finally replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Again, it must not be the right thing to say because you only get more annoyed, fisting your hands and slightly pushing on his chest to keep his attention. 

“I hate to break it to you but that’s a two-way road, Rex. If I had to, I would do it again.” You say matter of factly, wanting him to fully understand that you don’t see yourself as any more important than him. 

“Why?” He lets go of your shoulders and slides his hands down your arms, enveloping your fists in the palms of his hands. 

“Because I- I’m your…” His grip tightens around you as you struggle to tell him what you feel for him. You avoid his eyes but he tugs you into his chest and makes sure you’re looking at him before he interrupts you. 

“What? You’re my General? You want me to believe you’re willing to die for me, or even change your own rules because you’re my superior?” 

“N-no…it’s not just that.” You shake your head, knowing that you should tell him the truth regardless of how difficult it can be for you. 

“Then tell me.” He begs softly, leaning into you until he touches his forehead with your own. The warmth of his skin sets you on fire, making you wish you could just confess to him and deal with the consequences later. 

“Tell me why you’d risk your life for mine.” Rex’s eyes soften as he shuts them completely, and if you weren’t so held up on whether his feelings were mutual or not, you would have understood what he was trying to tell you through the intimate gesture. 

“I can’t.”

“Tell me cyar’ika.” 

“Rex, I-” 

“Tell me me’suum’ika…please.” He cuts you off then, his pleading storming your heart with waves of emotions so overwhelming that you have no choice but to give him what he wants. 

“Because if anything were to happen to you, my life will be over.” You admit, voice shaking with fear and relief at finally letting go of the secret you’ve held onto for months. 

“Mesh’la,” the word is whispered with a warmth and gentleness that shake you to your core, and you finally open your eyes to look at him, finding nothing but adoration and tenderness staring right back at you. 

“Rex.”

“I can’t protect you tonight.” His gaze is…it’s more intense than you’ve ever seen, but it’s unwavering as it descends to your lips and refuses to attend to anything else. 

“Hmm?” You’re confused by his choice in words, caught even more off guard by the weight of them as you try to make sense of what he wants to tell you.

“I said…I can’t protect you tonight.” His voice is low, almost strained, sending you spiraling down into an abyss of an unquenchable fire. 

“W-why?” Your throat tightens, brows furrowing at the way Rex struggles with what to say in response. 

“Because every second I spend near you, not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or whisper how kriffing badly I have it for you is torture. It’s absolute torture. And now that I am here, with you looking so lovely, so- so…irresistible, telling me what I am to you, I can’t hold back any longer.” He exhales sharply, hands moving from your hands to your neck for a brief moment before you feel them wrap around you and pull you flush against his chest. 

“Then don’t.” The air between you cackles with tension, and Rex’s breath hitches at the raw, pleading tone you grace him with.

“If you let me taste your lips, know that I will never let you go.” He’s gathering the strength to speak, and when his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath away, it occurs to you that he’s barely holding himself back from you. 

“Rex?” He looks at you then, committing every curve of your face to memory as you call for him again, his heart stuttering at the raw vulnerability mirrored in your own pupils. 

“Please kiss me.” His answer doesn’t come in words, but in the way he shuts his eyes as he closes the distance between the two of you. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like a breaking storm—wild, unrelenting, and long overdue. You had expected him to be timid, gentle even, but the untamed way in which he instantly swallows your moans makes your knees weak, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling to the ground. 

You’re not sure who is more desperate, you or Rex, but as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel as if your lungs will collapse from the sheer need and surrender moving between the two of you. And as his hand cups the side of your face, you tremble at the sensation of his thumb as it traces your jaw until he tilts your head to the side.  

“Ohh g-gods,” you break the kiss for a fraction of a second, but Rex is unrelenting, claiming your mouth fully and moving his lips over yours until every inch of your skin comes alive with fire. You’re urgent in your touches as well, afraid that he will let go any moment and you realize this is all just a dream. But the more he consumes your skin, the quicker your heartbeat thunders against your chest and you press yourself closer to him in an attempt to ground yourself. 

When he does finally let go, your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, but there’s no time to collect yourself. His lips descend down your neck, and you throw your head back, pleasure coursing through your veins so quickly that you have to muffle your mouth to hold back from screaming his name. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Rex and he pulls back far enough to catch your attention, waiting until you’re blinking confusingly at him before he returns to your neck. 

“No, you don’t hide your noises from me. You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you in my arms…moaning for me, begging me to touch you and pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.” He leaves a searing trail of fire with each wet kiss, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and biting down harshly when you moan in return. 

“But what if Anakin-” He growls at the mention of his friend’s name, his chest tightening at the sound of another man’s name on your lips. His hand trails down your neck to your waist, squeezing you tightly as he slides his tongue down your sternum and coaxes more sounds from you the lower he goes. Rex looks up briefly, smirking with pride when he sees how disoriented you’ve become from such simple touches. 

“I don’t care, let him hear. Let them all hear, I want everyone on this planet to know who’s making you feel good. Do you understand me…General?” His confession burns through you, and he zeroes in on the pulse thundering against your neck, biting down harshly as his heart tingles with each moan you sing to him. The way he says your title, so possessive and crazes, sends a fresh wave of desire through you, and you have to fight not to crumble entirely beneath his touches.

“F-fuck, yes…yes Captain. I- whatever you want.” You gasp, voice breaking as you feel yourself sinking against him. You grip at his shoulders for some semblance of stability, the cool edge of his armor digging into your arms and reminding you how naked you are. 

“Come here,” his tone is commanding, full of raw desire, and you shiver at the power behind it, swearing beneath your breath when he leans down and slides his hands firmly around your lower back.  

“But the water-” You giggle at how quickly he moves from the refresher to the bedroom, and you feel yourself growing wet at how easily he picks you up. 

“You don’t need the water to keep you warm.” Rex shakes his head, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on the lips before settling you down on your sheets.

“No?” You tease, lower lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back from snickering at what he’s making you feel. 

“No baby, that’s what I’m here for.” he murmurs, leaning in close until he cages you between his arms. The bed dips beneath him, and you feel your heart racing at finally having your dreams come true. His eyes barely have any color left in them, and you squeeze your thighs together, excited at being the reason behind such a visceral reaction. 

“And exactly how will you w-warm me up?” You trail your hand down up his neck, tracing his cheeks softly and shivering when you feel the rough stubble of his jaw kiss your palms.  

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rex chuckles, the sound vibrating through the quiet air of the room and making you even more nervous. He draws deliberate circles against your breasts, watching with bated breath as your eyes shut instantly. 

“Yes…oh kriff, please Rex. Tell me…tell me.” The need you display to him nearly makes him choke. Never in his life did he think he’d have such an effect on you, but he doesn’t question it, instead giving you more so he can hear what he does to you. 

“Let’s see,” Rex leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks with a sinful whisper, “I’ll start off by kissing down your body.” 

“Hmm,” the image alone leaves you breathless, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, not caring for how loud you’re getting as your moans turn into long sighs. 

“And while you moan at feeling my hands trace your soft skin, I’ll…pull away.” His words trail off, and he suddenly pulls back completely, creating a rift between you that has you sitting up quickly and grabbing his kama to prevent him from getting off the bed.

“N-no don’t,” you plead desperately, refusing to let go of him as he returns to your side and kisses your forehead. 

“Shhh, don’t worry mesh’la. I’m not going anywhere.” He catches your wrists, pressing them against his chest to still you before slowly standing up again. He doesn’t break your gaze, and he waits until you relax to begin taking off his armor. You swallow the lump in your throat when you finally register what he just called you, and your breathe trembles as you nod in agreement, 

“But for me to show you how much I crave you, I need to remove all of this.” The promise in his voice makes you wish he could put you out of your misery and take you then and there. But you know better than to distract him. 

“Rex,” you whine his name like a prayer, unable to hide how much you want him. 

“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s all part of the plan, how else will I keep you running…hot for me.” 

“Force help me,” your head falls back as a groan slips past your lips, and you don’t notice where your hand descends until you feel Rex slipping his fingers around your wrist and shoving your arm away from your heated core. 

“You can call out all you want, little Jedi, but the only one here is me…so you better put my name to good use.” Rex leans in close again, hovering just above your body as he taunts you with promises. His voice is a delicious growl, one that has you shaking with anticipation and pulling another moan from your throat. 

“Rex…”

“Better,” the satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, and he brushes his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that leaves you chasing after him when he pulls away to strip. 

“Please Rex, I need you.” You beg sweetly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You should be embarrassed by how wanton you sound, but you find that you couldn’t care any less, the need to have Rex settle between your thighs outgrowing any shame you have. 

“I thought you needed to hear what I want to do to you?” His expression is dark and unreadable as he places his armor on the floor. He stands in nothing but the black body glove he wears beneath his armor, and you’re overwhelmed by how much you can see of him that you shut your eyes and throw your head back. Rex uses the momentary distraction to his advantage, sliding his eyes down your body to sketch a mental image of you in case he never gets to do this again. When he’s had his fair share of you, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s not wearing anything. 

“Look at me cyar’ika,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. When you obey and open your eyes, the air leaves your lungs dramatically, your mind unable to accept the fact that he’s more naked than you are, that you’re finally, finally, seeing all of him. 

“You- you’re torturing me.” You’re shaking with lust, praying to the Force that Rex decides to lose control and take what he wants. 

“Is that right?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, the ghost of a laugh escaping him and making you flush embarrassingly as he moves on top of you. “Oh…maker,” there is no hesitation in his movements, just a careful balance of control and desperate need. Rex holds you tightly in his arms and kisses you until neither of you can breathe. You think he might break you and for a brief moment, you want him to, if only so he could know how much you belong to him. You arch your back into him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of having his skin slide against yours. 

“Am I pleasing to you?” Rex lets go and wraps his hand around your neck, not firmly, but just to have you look at him. The muscles of his jaw flexes as he watches you lose control, his voice reverent as he practically begs for you to answer him. 

“You have no idea,” your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I think I have some id-” he smiles faintly, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone before moving further down your body. His words are cut off by a groan when he feels you scratch his head. He can feel every inch of you growing hotter beneath his touch, and he doesn’t hold back any longer, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he slips two fingers beneath your panties and tugs violently until they rip in his hands. You squeal suddenly, partly shocked by the reaction, but mostly turned on by how much he craves you. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Rex is shoving your thighs apart and kissing your inner thighs, the scent of your cunt hitting his nostrils and making him growl, the sound rumbling from his chest and setting you on fire. 

“Fuck mesh’la, you say I’m torturing you but the taste of you makes me…it- hmmm, kriff.” The gutteral sound sends heat pooling in your core, and you find yourself clinging to him even harder as you feel this lips ghost against the outer lips of your pussy.

“Rex,” you whimper, his name slipping from your lips as though it was the only word you knew. 

“I know I begged you to call my name, but…if you keep moaning it so shamelessly, this night will come to an end a lot quicker.” Rex stills suddenly, looking up at you with wild eyes, his control hanging by an extremely thin thread. 

“I- I don’t care Rex, I want you…I just want you, please.” You plead over and over again, trying your best to pull him up so he can forgo whatever he had in mind for you and just fuck you then and there. 

“But I need to get you- oh, Force help me.” He moves up your body, pressing his forehead against yours and tripping over his words when he feels you wrap your hands around his hard cock. 

“I’m already so wet for you baby, please…take me.” You whisper, desperation dripping from every word you pray to him. He’s heavy in the palm of your hand, hot and hard to the touch, and you wonder if this is how it will always be with him. You pray it is. 

Maker, please. 

“You should know, I need you so desperately that I- I may not be able to hold back.” His breathing grows ragged, the restraint unraveling rapidly the more you slide and squeeze his dick. He shuts his eyes and fists the sheets beneath you, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his jaw softly, licking down his throat and biting into the skin between his neck and his shoulder when he sinks against you.

Smiling at how easily you can bring his guards down, you pull him closer until your lips brush his ear, whispering the one sentiment you’ve thought of ever since you met him.

“Rex, I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” 

“Oh, me’suum’ika, I don’t want to do that.” His head snaps up, eyes narrowing as he stares down at you with a tenderness that melts you. Rex presses his nose to your temple, sighing your name over and over again until you let go of him and bring him down for a kiss. He pushes you harder into the bed, slipping his hand behind your back to undo your chest band before throwing it behind him. You break the kiss to look at him, and Rex is sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. 

“I want to fuck you like I can’t breathe without you. I want to fuck you like I can’t get the thought of you out of my head…I want to fuck you like you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your heart swells at the raw, needy emotion in his words, and your hands slips into his hair, scratching it softly and smiling with tears in your eyes when he leans into the touch and groans in return. 

“I am, I’ve been yours Rex. Only yours.”

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me baby.” Rex exhales shakily, attacking your chest with more kisses and waiting until he hears you call for him again before taking a nipple in between his teeth. You arch your back against him, opening your thighs so he can settle better against you before crossing your legs behind his back. As soon as you feel his cock tease at your entrance, a wave of shameless desire seeps through your body and you feel your cunt throb in pain at having him so close. 

“I- ohhh gods, I can’t wait any longer Rex.” You squirm beneath him, the action sliding his cock against you and making him bite your sensitive bud in return. “But…you deserve to be loved cyare. Slowly, deeply, passionately.” He wants nothing more than to push his cock into your pussy, but he waits, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for him so he doesn’t hurt you. 

“We can d-do that later, however long you want…whenever you like. But I need to feel you inside me, now.” You shake your head, voice desperate and lust-filled. He studies you for a brief moment, and when he finds nothing but a needy truth swimming in your eyes, he pushes away and leans back to get a better look at you. His eyes zero in on your cunt, and his cock twitches at finally having you naked and willing beneath him. 

“Spread your legs wide for me, and if it’s too much…if I’m too much, tell me.” Rex swallows hard, his eyes softening before darkening once more. You nod quickly, watching him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it across your cunt to spread your juices on him. The gesture is so filthy, and if it were any other man, you would have found it off-putting. But this was Rex, and you had only imagined him fucking you about a thousand times. 

“R-rex,” you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, the sensation both overwhelming and mind-bending. Rex can’t take his eyes off of where you’re connected, and his breathing picks up when he begins to feel you clench around him, his cock sliding with ease from how wet you are. He can’t believe that he barely touched you and you were so ready for him, but he pushes the thought aside, wanting to relish every second he’s allowed to be inside you. 

“Ah f-fuck, you’re…you’re so warm, so kriffing warm and tight.” He curses softly, his head falling back briefly before his eyes return to your cunt once more. 

“I want to feel all of you Rex,” you run your hands over his arms, feeling the tense muscles shift with every movement. You silently wish that he falls against you so you can feel his body atop yours, and it must be evident in the way your eyes trail up and down his body because he slowly pushes himself on top of you, his cock sinking deeper into you as he shifts closer. 

“Sweet girl, my beautiful jetii’ika.” Rex looks down at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence, and something that should terrify you but instead makes you feel warm and cherished. 

“You’re s-so deep inside me Rex, I feel…full.” Your voice hitches as he continues to push his dick inside you until he’s fully seated deep in your cunt. You bite into your fingers but Rex shakes his head, reminding you of his warning from earlier. 

“Remember, your sounds are mine tonight. I want to hear everything that I do to you.” He grits his teeth, hands digging into your hips as he forces you to let go of your fingers and call his name. 

“I love being this close to you... it’s perfect.” You confess, barely managing to string together a coherent thought as you feel him throbbing inside you. 

“God, you feel so tight around me…” He wants to pull back and thrust inside you, but he holds back out of fear of hurting you. It’s only when he feels you wrap your legs around him and force him to move that he understands what you want from him. He pulls out until the crown of his cock is seated perfectly in between your pussy lips, and as soon as you moan for him, he thrusts back inside, the sensation sending his mind in a frenzy and nearly making him fuck you into oblivion. Rex stops for a moment, wanting to keep himself in check so he doesn’t terrify you by how much he craves you. 

“Mmm, and you feel so big, so fucking hard and big. Move, Rex…please.” You throw your head to the side, biting into his wrist and whining in ecstasy when he obeys you and slowly snaps his hips against you. 

“You’re so wet for me already and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He mutters beneath his breath, licking and sucking on your neck as he continues to shove his cock inside you, suddenly feeling dizzy at how perfect you feel around him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to chuckle in response and meet his gaze in an intense gaze, parting your lips and answering him with another, lust-filled confession.  

“That’s because I- hmmm, I’ve imagined you fucking me every night since we met, and- and now that I’m here, in your arms-” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, digging your nails into Rex’s back and smiling when you see his features turn into a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Tell me baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire as he continues to fuck you passionately. 

“Nothing compares to h-how you fill me up, Rex.” You confess, shaking at how perfectly Rex feels inside of you, cock hard and hot as it slides against your tight walls. 

“You have no idea mesh’la,” you can tell his control is slipping further, and you wonder what it would take for him to lose all control and take you as you desire. 

“I can- can feel how much you want this.” He leans down and swallows your moans, slipping his tongue inside of you and claiming your mouth while his cock claims your cunt. 

“Yes... don’t stop. Go deeper, just like that.” You wrap your arms around him, breathing heavily against his ears as you feel him push into you with a pace that’s nearly blinding. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. This cunt was made for me, perfect fucking pussy. I can spend hours between your legs.” Rex’s voice comes out heavy, and he reaches down to place his arm around one of your thighs so he can push it higher and come closer against you. 

“Please, harder…fuck me harder Captain.” You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations Rex continues to rip from your body. 

“Whatever you want to make you lose control, General.” Rex groans in return, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes through the room, a frenzied beat that matches the pounding in his heart, he suspects, yours as well. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and when he finds you biting your lower lip to contain yourself, he slams harder into you until he has your attention. 

“Look at me while I’m inside you... let me see how much you love this.” He demands assertively, eyes searching your own he feels sweat drip from his brow. There is a thick haze of lust clouding the room, and before you can even answer him, he thrusts harder, deeper, inside you, forcing your body to react in ways he only dreamt of. “Rex…I- I’m, I’m yours... all yours.” You acknowledge him without even thinking, the need dripping from your words matching the same one you can see storming in his eyes. 

“You have all of me cyare, my heart, my soul…my everything.” Your confession drives him mad, and the look of pure ecstasy etching on your features sends him reeling, his body trembling as you cling on to him while he pushes you closer to the edge. You sob with pleasure as his movements pick up, his words igniting something primal inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you getting closer. Don’t hold back—let go for me. Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze me..fall apart for me.” The possessiveness radiating off of him in waves should terrify you, but instead, you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you so you can feel every inch of him as he coats your walls with his seed. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve lit up like a wildfire as you approach that inevitable release. Rex must feel it too because he sinks into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and something sweet that he might never forget. 

“I’m so close... oh fuck, I’m going to come!” You cry against him, voice breaking as your body teeters on the brink of bliss. 

“Fuck- I…I can’t. I need to-” His rhythm begins to stutter, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic as he fights to hold on until he feels you come on his cock. Rex’s grip on you tightens, his fingertips pressing into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to reality, to the gift the universe has handed him after so long. 

“Don’t hold back, Rex. I want you to come for me, come inside me. I want to feel you…want to take you so deep, fill me up. Please…p-please Rex,” you plead, clawing at his back as you show him that you need him just as desperately. Hearing you beg for him to fill you with his cum shatters the last of his resolve, his pace faltering as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he finally lets go, the pleasure crashing over him overtaking him just as it engulfs your body. He feels you tighten around him, your body convulsing so violently that he can’t figure out whether it’s you who’s crying in pleasure or him. 

You’re completely spent, your pussy throbbing harshly as you feel Rex shoot long, hot spurts of his seed deep inside you. It shouldn’t please you so much, but knowing that you have him reach places inside you that no one else will make the pleasure all the more intense, and you twist your head until you can kiss along his neck, silently letting him know that you will never belong to anyone else but him. 

He collapses over you then, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t suffocate you. His head is still buried in your neck as you both gasp for air, body trembling slightly as he presses soft kisses to your skin in return. His lips linger over your pulse point where he can feel your heartbeat racing as quickly as his own. Rex lifts his head until he meets your eyes, his own brimming with affection as he smiles at you and nudges your nose with his.

“Baby, you’re everything to me.”

“Rex, I…I think I-” you start, voice quiet and uncertain, afraid that once you tell him what you feel, you will lose it all…lose him. 

“I know. Cyare, I know.” He murmurs gently, his hand cradling your face as he leans down and kissing you slowly until you feel nothing but warmth and understanding. 

And in that moment, you have no doubt that something deeper than words binds the two of you, something that no one will ever be able to take away from you. 

Against his wishes, Rex pulls out of you with a groan, biting into his lower lip when he hears you whine with contention. You don’t let him go too far, sliding against his side and nuzzling into his chest as he pulls the covers above the two of you. 

A comfortable silence fills the air and after a while, you look up to find Rex meditating deeply, his attention focused on the ceiling high above you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, fingers moving up and down his chest in a soothing way. 

“I’m thinking of what will happen tomorrow now that you won’t be keeping your distance anymore.” He means it as a joke, but when he looks down and sees your hurt expression, he drops the smile and leans over to kiss you, letting you know that he meant no harm by the comment and was just teasing you. 

“Rex, I’ll do whatever you want to do going forward. If you want me to act as if nothing has changed, I’ll do that. And if you want to tell your brothers, it would make me feel so happy…and- and if you want me to leave the Order, give up everything…I will gladly do so without a second thought.” Rex’s expression shifts, his brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his close-cropped hair. He looks at you like he’s trying to make sense of your words, trying to fit them into the reality he had come to know in the past rotation. 

“You- you would leave the Jedi for me?” His voice is rough with disbelief, and for a moment, he is genuinely convinced he has misheard you. The idea that someone like you— strong, steadfast, bound by your sworn duty to the Jedi and the Republic—would ever consider leaving all of it…for him…maker, it seemed impossible. It had to be. 

“I would do anything for you just to have you keep looking at me the way you are now.” You cut through his disbelief with the utmost sincerity, gaze never once wavering as you do your best to make him understand what he means to you. The silence that follows hangs heavy in the air, and Rex swallows hard as searches for the right words, for anything that could match the depth of what you just offered him. He reaches out, trailing his fingers over your cheeks as he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. The touch of his lips is reverent, as if he wants to assure himself that you are real, that you are in his arms, that you are willingly giving yourself to him without a second thought. 

When he finally pulls away and sees tears pricking against your eyes, he smiles at you and nods in understanding. 

“How about we go day by day, and when this war is over, we can reassess.” He finally says, his voice less anxious than before. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms, hands going to your waist to pull you flush against him. You cry out in pain and push yourself away from him, the reaction catching Rex by surprise and making him sit up to see what he’s done When he sees you grabbing at your wound and hissing in discomfort, dread settles in his chest as he realizes he forgot the wound and handled you a lot more aggressively that he should have. 

“Kriff, your side…I- I completely forgot. Mesh’la, are you-” He leans over to assess the bacta patch, wanting to see the damage he’s done and already thinking of what to tell Kix when he asks him to come and inspect the wound. His panic rises as you push his hand away and look down to find the patch still in place, and only when you’re sure no blood has seeped through do you grab Rex’s hand and settle it against the wound. 

“Rex, relax. I- to be honest with you, I’m not sure whether or not I felt any pain. I was so far gone in our…activities, that I didn’t really focus on anything else.” His eyes are less anxious as you allow him to massage the skin around the wound, and when he sees there are no lies in your words, he nods and studies the irritated skin one last time before settling back down, bringing you into his chest gently. 

He smiles when he feels you kiss just above his heart, giggling softly when you pinch his side and tease him for being so cuddly. 

“Can I ask you something?” It’s his turn to interrupt the silence filling the room, and tilt your head up to nod at him. 

“Anything!” His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles at the earnestness in your voice, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of giving him the answer he’s been seeking for months on end. 

“At what point did your feelings switch from wanting to be with me physically to…to whatever they are now?” Rex hesitates, choosing his words carefully and refusing to look anywhere else out of fear of missing a change in your facial expressions. When your brow lifts and your hand returns to his stomach, you can’t help but smile at him and shift your gaze to a fixed point somewhere on the skin beneath your palm. 

“You mean when did I know that I’m yours?” His face flushes with embarrassment, but he nods instantly, not wanting to turn this moment awkward by his boyish reaction to your rather honest sentiment. 

“I don’t think I can pinpoint a day or an hour, it all happened so suddenly and I didn’t realize how deep my feelings ran for you until I was so far gone in them.” You exhale deeply, turning a little contemplative as you admit to him everything you’ve felt for the past year or so. 

“If I were to pick a reason though, it would have to be the way you carry yourself with your brothers, with Anakin even.” He looks down at you then, his gaze unwavering as he feels his soul light with a fire that he’s sure no one will ever put out now that you’ve kindled it. 

“Seeing you give up so much to ensure your brothers live for another day stirred something inside me. And knowing that you’d follow Anakin into a battlefield without a second thought is…it’s- maker Rex, you’re amazing. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” Your voice cracks slightly with emotion, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you let him know that you will never care for anyone more than you care for him. Rex blinks down at you, stunned into silence at the raw honesty behind your words. 

“The loyalty, the courage—it speaks volumes.” His chest tightens as you speak those words, and he can’t help but turn to face you fully so he can focus on nothing else but the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“Come here, me’suum’ika.” He wraps his arms around you and molds you into his chest, stealing the breath from your lungs with a kiss that you’re sure would rival all the others he’s gifted you with so far. You let him take whatever he wants from you, sliding your arm around his back to feel every inch of him as he makes you forget the universe outside of your room. 

“What does that word mean?” You smile at him when he finally breaks the kiss and trails his lips across your cheeks and down your neck. 

“It means ‘little moon.’” Rex murmurs gently, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for your ears. Your heart swells at the tender nickname, and you press yourself closer to him, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as you’re allowed. You breathe his presence to anchor yourself to him, refusing to acknowledge the chaos of the war raging outside your existence, here in this moment. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper pleadingly, voice barely audible. “Please.”

Rex’s hands tighten around you, and he brushes his thumb over your skin as he pulls you back to meet your gaze. 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, cyar’ika.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you lose yourself in his arms, knowing that nothing will ever compare to what you now share with him. 

And as you slowly succumb to sleep, Rex silently thanks the mythical bird for giving him what he’s wished for. The war may not be over, but it could wait. The galaxy, with all its heartbreak and evil, can be someone else’s concern. Tonight, Rex had you, and that was more than enough.

You were all he ever desired. 

You already know there’s going to be a story. There’s always a story with Fives. Before you knew any better you used to think he was getting hurt just to come and see you. Now the war has dragged on for longer than you were prepared for, and you’ve buried far more men than it feels like you ever save. Seen more planets and systems torn apart than you ever thought possible. Things like crushes and love seem like silly things reserved for storybooks rather than your day-to-day life.

Doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to flirt back with the man who walks through your door almost once a day with some injury or another. Battle related or not.

“What is it this time? Echo dare you to jump off the bridge or did Jesse kick your butt sparring again?” You asked. Standing from your desk and walking over to an exam table. Raising a brow when Fives doesn’t move from the doorway.

“Can’t I just come say hi to my favorite medic without there being an injury?” He asked. In a tone that almost sounded innocent, and perhaps a little hurt that you’d suggested such a thing.

You flashed him another eye roll and crossed your arms. “You can but, Kix isn’t here right now.”

Fives actually snorted at that. Dropping his arms to his side and doing his best not to limp on what was clearly an injured ankle. “Kix is not my favorite medic.”

“Mhm why’s that?” You asked. Already moving down to undo the plastoid armor he wore over his boots when he hoped up on the table. Ignoring the warmth that spread over you when you looked back to see Fives grinning down at you with his hands tucked behind his head.

“Because he doesn’t look half as pretty as you do,” he said with a smirk. “And he’s not as nice to me as you are.”

Now it was your turn to snort at him, Maker he is insufferable, you thought. And the best part of every day, another part of your mind added rather unhelpfully. You went back to examining his ankle before you said something ridiculous. Taking off his sock and hissing through your teeth at the purple bruise already spreading around his scarred ankle.

“Maker what happened here?!” You asked. Looking up at Fives again with genuine worry this time.

He waved a hand dismissively and puffed his chest up a bit in a way you’d come to learn meant he was hiding pain and quite proud of something he definitely shouldn’t be proud of.

“I came here with a blaster bolt to the knee a few rotations ago. How is this worse?”

You started at him blankly for a minute. Simply blinking up at him and hoping your silence made something click in that incredible thick head of his.

It did not.

“You were shot in an active war zone running to give Captain Rex cover. I honestly expected worse than that. However, we have been flying for three days with no enemy contact. So, you shouldn’t have gotten so much as a cough up here; yet here you are sitting here with a twisted ankle. So, I ask again. How did you get this?”

The smile slipped a little from Fives’s face as he actually looked a little…. embarrassed? Was that something he was capable of feeling? You watched as he bit down on his lip and fidgeted slightly with his shoulders seeming to try and buy time.

“Really, it’s not important. I was…. doing something for someone else and my foot slipped okay? It’s not a big deal,” he said. Very adamantly not making eye contact with you.

You rolled your eyes and threw your hands up in surrender with a sigh. “Fine don’t tell me. I hope this someone was worth it.”

“She is,” Fives said. There was a sincerity in his voice that caught you by surprise. Giving you pause and making your breath catch as he looked at you with something that was almost soft. Something you didn’t dare name floated between the shades of honey and earthen brown of his eyes.

“Right. Well…...good.” You stumbled out. Moving away from the table and back to your medical closet to get some bacta and a wrap for his ankle. Trying hard not to meet his eyes again. The ones you can feel boring a hole through the back of your head as you set his ankle.

He doesn’t even flinch once while you work on it. Even though you’re certain this must hurt, he just sits there and stares back at you while your hands make quick work of their task.

“Alright, that should hold for now. Do you want to do the song and dance where I tell you to stay off it and then you tell me something about being a hero of the Republic who can’t take breaks and must soldier on for the good of the galaxy?” You asked. Crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow at him.

Fives grind like an idiot again and laughs. Maker that sound… You wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you when he went away again. Listen to it on repeat when the nights pressed in to darkly.

“That’s a terrible impression of me,” Fives laughed. Snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I thought it was very accurate,” you snip back. Your tone bears no bite though.

Fives smirks wider like a loth cat that’s gotten into the cream. Swinging his legs gracefully back over the bed and gripping the edge in a way that makes his biceps flex under his blacks. Not that you’re looking. He leans in a little closer and it takes all of your willpower not to lean in towards him too.

“What’s your excuse then Doc?” He asked lowly.

You tilted your head and furrowed your brows. “My excuse for what?”

“For not resting,” he said. “You said it yourself, I’m a hero of the Republic, but you….”

He trailed off and reached a hand up to tuck back a curl that had come loose from the updo you had it in. Your breath catching in your throat as you swallowed tightly under his touch. Rough fingers brushing so softly over your skin you wanted to melt.

“You need to rest too. The whole ship would fall apart without you.”

You might have laughed if he wasn’t looking at you so seriously. Like he meant every word of it. It made something warm and fuzzy creep up into your chest. Something that felt dangerous and far, far too real.

“I’ll rest when you do,” you bargained.

Fives shook his head. “No, I cannot allow that. I know exactly what that means. You’ll come in here and pretend to lay down then get right back to do work.”

“I could say the same for you,” you shot back. “So how do you suggest either of us rest then?”

The smirk that crawled up his face as he flicked his tongue out to lick his bottom lip almost made your knees wobble.

“Well, it seems we have no choice but to rest together,” he said. Like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him. “What?”

“That way I can make sure you can’t get up to do work, and you can make sure I don’t walk on my ankle.”

Your mind reeled for a moment still all the possibilities that scenario presented before you recovered yourself enough to smirk back. Leaning back on your heels and staring back eye level with the arc trooper with a glint of playfulness in your gaze.

“You know if you wanted to sleep with me, you could have just asked.”

Fives looked taken aback for a moment. He recovered much too quickly though and leaned forward a little more. His breath ghosting over your cheeks as you stood your ground in front of him. Heart racing while his eyes moved over your face, taking in the details like he was trying to memorize you.

“If I asked now, would you say yes?” He asked.

“I—” whatever you were about to say was cut off by the loud screaming of alarms that startled the both of you apart and jerked you out of moment of peace.

“That’s the attack sirens,” Fives warned. Jumping off the bed and hoping towards the door as he pulled his boot back on.

“We can’t be under attack,” he replied. Rushing to the com link in the wall and punching in the code to Captain Rex’s channel. “We haven’t seen any vessels since we left— “

A sudden explosion sounded distantly and the whole ship lurched to the side. Your hands gripping into the handles on the wall to steady yourself while cabinets and shelves clicked locked, so their contents didn’t go everywhere.

“Apparently the separatists don’t know that,” Fives grumbled from the doorway. Looking down the hall both ways once before turning back to you with a brilliant smile that felt far too out of place for this moment. “Don’t worry I’ll handle this; you just sit here and look pretty and we’ll finish this conversation when I get back.”

He winked and then was gone. Running as fast as his weak ankle would allow. You wanted to protest every word he’d just said. Wanted to run after him, yell at him to be careful, maybe smack him for being so cavalier with his words, but he was gone before you could even get his name past your lips.

Be careful Fives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Many Hours Later)~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were lucky this time,  that’s what Captain Rex kept saying.

The separatist vessel had only damaged the cargo holds on the lower levels before the captain and his men were able to destroy it. General Skywalker’s plan somehow once again working despite sounding ludicrous to you. You were lucky the casualties had been minimal, but the injuries were heavy. You would have to restock before your next engagement. As it was, you’d already patched supplies together for those less injured than others.

Leaning back against the hallway wall you slid all the way to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest. Leaning your head forward to rest there and forcing yourself to breathe deeply so you didn’t fall apart out here where anyone might see you.

Footsteps approached slowly from your left and you half hoped they’d keep walking. Let you wallow in peace and quiet, but the uneven footfalls stopped just in front of you and a voice cleared their throat above you.

“Hey…you alright?”

Fives.

Jerking your head up you blinked at him through your watery eyes. Staring at his grease smudged cheeks with parted lips. He was breathing heavier than normal and still standing off his foot as best he could. His blacks were stained with blood and smoke, but he looked mostly unharmed.

“You’re, okay?” You asked. Voice trembling.

Fives grinned. “I’m always alright. I’m a hero remember. Heroes can’t die.”

You rolled your eyes and made some kind of half sob half laugh sound. Wiping your eyes with the hell of her hand and sniffling a little.

“Hey, come on love no tears.” He crouched down and grinned softly. Reaching out and brushing the tear that dripped down your cheek gently. “It’s okay. We lived to fight another day, more of us than usual at that. That’s something, and more will live because of you. Yeah?”

Without thinking you leaned into his palm and nodded softly. Closing your eyes and focusing on his words. Clinging to them tightly.

“Besides, you’re in the presence of a hero who saved the day and is about to make yours better,” Fives added proudly.

You laughed at him and shook your head. Blinking your eyes open to stare at him again. The lights giving him a halo around his dark hair. Making his tattoo stand out a little sharper against his skin. “How exactly are you still this cocky after everything?”

“It’s who I am. Come on. Up you go.” He grabbed under your arms and pulled you to your feet.

“Mhm does that hero line ever actually work on anyone?” You asked following after him while he kept his arm wrapped securely around yours.

“I don’t know, I’ll let you know later.”

“You are unbelievable,” you groaned.

“That’s the running theory,” he replied proudly.

Following him down the halls of the ship, letting him lean on you a little more as his ankle began to ache worse, you let the pair of you fall into an easy silence. Even if you were a little nervous about where you were actually going, you didn’t have the energy to ask.

“Alright we’re here. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so,” Fives said. Stopping the pair of you in front of a plain dark door.

You looked at him with a raised brow. “Fives is this is an elaborate plan to scare me I’m warning you I—"

His laugh cut you off. Throwing his hands up in a surrendering motion as he shook his head. “I promise, I promise, we’ve both been scared enough for one day. Just cover your eyes. You’ll like it trust me.”

You hesitated only a moment longer before closing your eyes and covering them with your free hand. Feeling Fives take your other hand and weave his fingers together with yours, the door whooshed open, and a warm burst of air hit you as he tugged you forward. Your feet following after him without hesitation. You trusted him, even if he drove you crazy.

“Alright, open your eyes,” he whispered from behind you.

Slowly you lowered your hand and opened your eyes. Gasping at the scene spread out before you.

“Fives….”

Strings of lights blinked in multicolored drops that had been hung around wide windows that showed off the thousands of twinkling stars blinking like spilled jewels across the ebony sky. Looking around the rest of the room there was a small table sat in the middle of the window. The two chairs were tied with bright red ribbons and a small box sat in the middle wrapped with blue paper. Soft holiday music played from some kind of hidden speakers and there was holographic snow drifting down the walls.

“I don’t…. I don’t understand,” you said. Spinning around to face Fives who looked a little sheepish with his hand lifting up to rub at the back of his neck.

“You do so much for everyone here. Keeping us alive and healthy. You care, really care, where most people just…. don’t. I remember you telling Echo your favorite holiday when you were a kid was Life Day but that you hadn’t gotten to celebrate it for a very long time. I had the guys help me research it, so I knew what it was and then I set this up for you,” he explained. Shrugging a shoulder like this wasn’t the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for you. Like all the hours and credits, he must have spent to make this little bit of joy come true wasn’t the most incredible gift ever.

“I know it’s a few days early, but you looked like you needed this today. So, I um….” He trailed off and let his hand drop back to his side. “Do you like it?”

You can’t even bring yourself to answer. Forgetting how tired you are and how sore he probably is, you rush forward and launch yourself into his arms. Gripping him tightly as he stumbles back to catch you. Wrapping you up in a hug just as tight.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” He teased. Lips brushing beside your ear.

“Yes!” You said into his neck. “I love it Fives. Thank you. This is… this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

You feel him smile more than you see it. His arms flexing around you tighter. “You’re welcome love. Happy Life Day.”

“Happy Life Day Fives.”

Pulling away you smile up at him wider, tears brimming in your eyes for a whole different reason now as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. His fingers curling around your wrist as he turns his head to kiss your palm lightly. Maybe love isn’t just for fairytales and storybooks. Maybe there is hope left in this war after all.

“Fives?” 

“Yeah?”

“Did you roll your ankle putting up the lights?”

He sighs dramatically and then bursts out laughing. Scooping you up into his arms and spinning you both around as best he can before setting you back down and kissing you chastely. The softest press of his lips to yours before he’s pulling away again and winking down at you.

“It was worth it to see you smile,” he said.

You shake your head at him one more time before rising to your toes to kiss him back just as softly.

“My hero.”

It’s only after using a hastily dampened towel to smother the flames, vigorously flapping it 

around to beat out the lingering smoke, that you’re still hammering heart rate finally begins to slow, and you allow yourself to take a drawn-out, steady breath, forcing yourself to calm as you anxiously peer into the oven.

You can tell, just from the acrid stench, that it’s bad. 

Still, you’re not prepared to find the batch of freshly made cookies, each patiently dusted with a generous helping of sugar so that each chocolate surface appears as if snowflakes had found their landing place there, are nothing but crumbling, blackened crisps against the stark white of the baking sheet in the tray.

You shouldn’t have sat down, you think, strangely detached as with shaky, oven mitt-covered hands, you remove the tray from the oven, setting it down on the counter and gazing at what was supposed to be your life day offering to Echo’s family, to express your gratitude at their generosity for inviting you to their festivities.

It meant more to you than they would ever know. 

They didn’t know that your own family looked down on you with disappointment. They didn’t know that you had fled to Pabu precisely with the intent to walk away from them in an effort to save yourself from more hurt. They didn’t know that you, stupidly and still with the embarrassing desperation of a child who might do anything to earn even just a smile of approval from those around her, want, need them to approve of you, and not just in the way that family members do because she’s their  brother’s partner, but in a way that feels like they genuinely like you, and actually want to have you around.

But regardless, they still showed up at your door. Hunter, who you’ve only shared passing greetings with and who has, up until this point, been virtually a mutual acquaintance, and Omega, who despite having only caught glimpses of her around the island when she takes her hound out for a walk, had beamed at you, bright eyed and familiar, as if you had known each other for years.

It had touched you, and Hunter’s evident warm and sincere invite to their Life Day celebrations had made you just as excited as it did become a source of anxiety over the following weeks.

Nights where you should have been sleeping, instead were spent tossing and turning, trying to plan out every aspect. What you would say, what you would do, what you would bring to express your thanks to them.

Well, here it was, you think, suddenly grim. All your planning had amounted to what was now laid out before you in a charred, stinking heap, served on a tray.

Perhaps, if you were thinking logically, you would have shaken your head, let out a sigh of discontent before dumping the burnt cookies into the compost, giving yourself five minutes to take a break, then rolled up your sleeves, set your shoulders, and jumped right back into making a second batch, being extra careful to pay attention, never straying from focussing on your task.

Unfortunately, though, you weren’t, at present, thinking logically in the slightest. Thanks to the lack of sleep you had so desperately tried to ignore until it creeped up on you when you had collapsed onto the couch once the cookies were in the oven, and the stubbornly persistent overwhelm that you had convinced yourself you weren’t actually feeling, which had worked, at least until now.

Until you look down once more to survey the mess that had come out of a whole afternoon’s work, that you had so diligently, with both nervous and eager anticipation, been fretting over to make the perfect gift, the façade of composure, of pretending that the anxiety that had been stirring in your stomach for weeks was, actually, just excitement, cracks. And once it does, it’s easy for the whole thing to come down, crumbling around you as if it’s as fragile as the chipped and breaking edges of the cookies on the tray in front of you.

So, instead of reacting reasonably, your actions fuelled by logic, your response is to turn, press your face into your baking apron, and burst into tears.

It’s silly, you know, from the very first sob that claws its way up your throat despite your valiant attempt to stop it, that your reaction is so, so unjustified given the situation. They’re just cookies. They just got burnt. A new batch can be made and somewhere, deep down, you know all of this. 

But well, your mother always had a habit of calling you overly sensitive as a child, punctuating that remark with a signature roll of her eyes. Your father would pipe up, in a tone that probably meant to sound more encouraging but just ended up coming across as condescending, “you need to grow some thicker skin, kid.”

This is solid, concrete proof that this particular piece of advice had never truly been heeded, or, if you’re honest, had never really been understood to begin with.

Your breath hitches in your throat, because the desire to push back the tide is still present, if not to stop, then at least to muffle, to not hear the discomforting, ugly sounds you make when you cry. Still, the tears fall, and quiet, broken whimpers and sniffles fall from your lips anyway.

And then, because apparently this day just seeks to prove how absolutely bad your luck is, Echo takes this moment to walk through the door of your shared small house.

You hear the sound of an umbrella being folded, boots being rhythmically stamped against the doormat as Echo steps inside, evidently trying to rid his boots of the dried mud that gets clumped together in the creases, so common this time of year on Pabu, and the quiet hiss of the door as it slides back into place behind him.

Then, in a murmur that carries from the small alcove into your kitchen, he calls your name and instantly, you freeze. For some reason, you believe that if you can just stand as still as possible, if you can bite down on your lip hard enough and not make a single sound, not even a breath, he won’t see you, won’t know that you still get upset and cry over little, seemingly inconsequential things like this, which is completely ridiculous, you know. But still, you’ve already established that right now, your actions are dictated by nothing more than pure instinct, and, at least today, your instinct is incredibly off target.

There’s a brief pause, the sound of Echo bending down, hastening to remove his boots, then a quick, light pitter patter of footsteps against the floor as he moves through the space to find you.

There’s a soft breath, an oh of realization as he steps through the threshold of the kitchen, standing completely still as he observes, pausing to take in, what must be, quite the sight before him. You, on the other hand, don’t look, don’t want to see the mixture of both pity and confusion that surely is displayed in his eyes. So you don’t, keeping your face covered with your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Oh, cyar,” he breathes, and his voice isn’t mocking or disappointed or underlined with the sharp bite of disapproval, but instead it’s soft. It’s warm and smooth which only serves to remind you of the honeyed hue within his golden eyes whenever he looks at you and it’s soft, so warm, and so soft that your resolve melts in the sincere, empathetic face of it, and you’re moving towards him before he’s even finished speaking.

“Come here, ner kar’ta,” he says, his voice a low, gentle murmur as he opens his arms, just in time for you to come scrambling, throwing yourself into them with a muffled sob against the material of his sweater, pressing your face against his chest and clinging onto any part of him you can reach. There’s a soft puff of breath that you feel lightly ruffle your hair before his lips gently press against your forehead, lingering there as he whispers “That’s my girl. See? I have you. We’re okay”

His scomp arm is a heavy, familiar weight as it runs along the small of your back, settling at your waist as he guides you closer. He doesn’t needlessly comment. He doesn’t pepper you with questions or demand an explanation of what’s wrong.

Instead, he simply tucks your head beneath  his chin, his hand gentle as it lingers to brush through and stroke your hair. He holds you in his arms, slightly swaying on the spot, the slow, repetitive back-and-forth as he rocks you, settling your uneasy heart as you sniffle, quietly allowing yourself to give into the tears. 

The only sounds that fall from Echo’s lips aren’t so much words as they are just familiar, soothing noises. The soft “shh,” as his hand gently cups the back of your head or the gentle, barely there kisses, lightly scattered across the top of your head and the quiet, steady exhalation of breath that you become more and more aware of as your tears begin to slow.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, his voice a low, gentle rumble as he pulls back slightly, noticing you peeking up at him through watery eyes and stroking his hand along your cheek, brushing away your tears with his thumb. “Rough day?”

A sound that could either be classified as a laugh or a small, broken sob is pulled from your lips as you look up at him, nodding your head. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks flooding with heat. “I didn’t mean to react like that, I just.”

“Shh,” he lightly cuts you off by leaning forward, lips a soft brush against yours as he lingers there, warm, golden eyes intent as they search yours, taking in your expression, the drying tear tracks on your cheeks, the dark circles beneath your eyes.

“When’s the last time you got a full night's sleep?” he asks, and the question feels so off-topic that for a few seconds, you blink up at him, looking bewildered before you shake your head, shrugging.

“I, I don’t I um?”

Apparently, your hesitation and seeming inability to come up with a suitable answer is confirmation enough, and Echo, making a small, exasperated gesture with his scomp, clicks his tongue with disapproval.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighs, a hand running over the back of his head as he looks down at you. “Right, well, let me worry about cleaning up here. I want you to at least sit down and get some rest.”

“I can’t,” you sputter, your eyes widening. “Echo, me taking a nap is the exact reason why all of this,” you gesture towards the burnt cookies on the counter, “happened. I need to get to work on a new batch so that I have something to bring over to your family’s house for dinner tomorrow.”

“And we will,” Echo’s voice is patient, but there’s an underlying, stern edge that’s crept into it that breeches no room for argument as he ushers you into the living room, hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to an armchair. “But, cyar, you’ve just told me that you’ve already taken a nap?” he asks, folding his arms.

“Yeah,” you say, your lips tilted downward in a confused frown as you turn to look up at him. 

“And isn’t a nap supposed to make you feel more well rested afterward?” he asks, the question clearly rhetorical as he takes your chin in his hand, thumb pointedly brushing along the bag beneath one of your eyes. 

The silence he gets in response to that remains uncontested, and he smirks, satisfied in the knowledge that he has you beaten.

“No arguing with me on this one, princess,” he says gruffly, which makes you glare at him even as he lightly pushes your unresisting body down into the armchair, moving to pull out the Ottoman from beneath. “I’m not asking you to sleep. Just rest while I clean up the kitchen. We’ll figure everything else out once I’m finished, okay?” 

“Fine,” you huff, looking up at him with a stubborn set to your jaw before you add “but only if you kiss me first.”

Echo’s chuckle is warm and deep, his eyes soft as he leans down to oblige you, first brushing his lips against your forehead, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, lingering at each spot.

“Now that, I can gladly do,” he murmurs, his voice a soft breath that brushes against your lips before he’s closing the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a warm, tender kiss.

When he pulls back, your eyes flutter open. Echo’s smile is small, but sweet and conveys the infinite amount of affection that he holds for you as he moves, retrieving a neatly folded throw blanket, from where it’s been draped over the back of the couch. He unfolds it, letting you see the depiction of a group of tookas snuggled together in front of a fireplace that’s been illustrated on the soft fabric, before moving back towards you, wrapping it around you, taking his time to make sure that you’re bundled up just right, movements soft and careful as he does.

“Just rest, Cyar’ika,” he reaffirms, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head before straightening, moving back towards the kitchen in long strides. “We’ll sort everything out, I promise.”

And because it’s Echo, and Echo always keeps his promises, you actually believe him.

*

Surprisingly, once you’re sat down and comfortable, you find it easy to, if not fall asleep, simply drift and allow yourself to zone out.

You can faintly hear the sounds of Echo moving around your kitchen. There’s light footsteps, water running as he does the dishes in the sink, the soft, warm rumble of his baritone as he quietly hums an unfamiliar tune. Your eyes drift close, and the next time you let yourself float back into awareness, he’s there, smiling down at you, a beloved pair of your slippers tucked beneath his arm, a steaming mug held out as an offering in his hand.

“Careful,” he cautions you as you eagerly reach for it, making sure it is securely held within your grasp before letting go. “It’s still hot.”

You look down to survey the contents, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as soon as you register the warm, sweet scent of hot chocolate. He’s piled it high with marshmallows and whip cream, which he’s always rolled his eyes at you for adding.

“I don’t get it,” he would often say with fond exasperation, arms folded across his chest. “Why do you need to add extras? It’s already sweet to begin with.”

Seeing that he has evidently so lovingly prepared it in the way that you enjoy pulls your lips upward into a smile and you beam at him, your eyes lighting up for the first time in what feels like days. 

You grin up at him, indulging yourself in a tiny sip, your eyes closing with delight before you utter a quiet, but sincere thank you. 

“I still think it’s too sweet with all that,” he grumbles, a small, perplexed crinkle between his eyebrows as he sinks to his knees at your feet. “But anything for you, Cyar’ika.”

He gently takes one of your feet in his hands, seeming to contemplate it as he sets the pair of slippers at his side. 

“Have you considered,” he asks idly, scomp carefully resting on your ankle, as with the other hand he curls one of his fingers, lightly pressing his knuckle against the overworked arch of your foot. “That you’ve been doing too much?”

As if to accentuate his words, he slowly begins to rotate his wrist, the drag of his knuckle a gentle, but steady, pressure that instantly causes your eyes to flutter closed. It feels good. It feels wonderful, actually. He’s working with obvious deliberation and care, but he’s also, quite effectively, digging into sore spots and tendons that you didn’t realize you were carrying, and the relief is instantaneous.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admit, unable to bring yourself to open your eyes and look down at him. “For them and for you.”

He hums, a quiet understanding as he lightly grasps your Achilles tendon between his thumb and index finger, slow and gentle as he strokes towards your heel. He’s quiet for a moment, remaining completely focused on you, thoughtful as he keeps up with his task.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips twitching upward as he gently pulls at each of your toes, slight tugs to coax tension to release in each. “As nice as that would have been, I think I’ll be much happier helping you bake the second attempt.”

He gives you a rueful grin, easing one of your slippers onto your foot with a small assist from you before moving to repeat his prior treatment with the other.

“You’ll have to teach me, though,” he says, voice apologetic. “I’m afraid I’ve never been much of a baker. But, I’m willing to learn, and hey, we can finally put some of those scomp attachments that Tech has fitted me with to use.”

You laugh softly, your lips pulling upward into a matching smile. Tech, when he had miraculously found his way back to his family, returned needing extensive recovery and physiotherapy, with so many of his bones having been broken or shattered, including in his fingers and hands. To regain the dexterity that he once coveted, he was often found working on some project or another, requiring a constant flow of them to keep his agile and ever working mind occupied until the medics would allow him to walk again.

Crosshair, being Crosshair, had very limited patience, only sitting long enough to allow his brother to fit him with an appropriate cybernetic, fiddling with and rewiring servos to make it more effectively attuned to him. But, once he had started suggesting certain modifications, Crosshair had stomped off, rolling his eyes and tossing over his shoulder “I’m not a droid, Tech. It’s fine, just leave it,” in his seemingly trademark annoyed tone.

Tech had pressed his lips together, and you had wondered, still on the outside and learning Echo’s family as you were, if he was hurt by Crosshair’s vehement rebuttal. Echo, standing beside you, seemed to come to a similar kind of conclusion, but had only stepped forward, laying a hand on Tech’s shoulder, sitting down beside him at his workstation.

“He might be opposed to adding some cool attachments, but I’m not,” Echo declared, giving his brother a light nudge. “What do you say, Tech. Think you can make me something I can use to give Crosshair a good smack?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of practicality,” Tech explained, hands folded in his lap. “Perhaps a flipper or spatula to ease the burden of cooking somewhat.”

His eyes, when he had looked up, were sparkling with amusement, and his lips tilted upward into a small, but evident smile when he had continued by saying, his voice nonchalant, “But I believe your idea also holds certain merit. If you have the patience to let me experiment, I believe we can do both.”

*

Luckily for Tech, Echo seemed to possess an infinite amount of patience to let him fiddle, his scomp sometimes attached, sometimes laying on the table between them, their heads bent low as they quietly conversed with each other. 

Echo was more than content to just sit and talk, of different attachment ideas, their uses both on the field and in simple, daily life, or of everything and nothing. You watched, quiet but observant, as Echo in his casual, straightforward way, brought Tech up to speed on the goings-on of him and his brothers whilst he was gone and inexplicably, you watched as Tech, still hunched over his work with his hands tangled amidst wire and components, allowed his shoulders to begin to soften, slowly pulling away from his ears as he listened to his brother talk.

You suspected that this was Echo’s way of making up for lost time with Tech, and for your part, you were more than happy to just be a silent, but present observer and support, there to reach for and squeeze Echo’s hand, or, if necessary, talk with him late into the night when you noticed his small tells of guilty, self blame ridden thought patterns starting to creep in.

Regardless of how it had initially started as simply mobility and skill recovery, Tech had, with the input of Echo, designed quite the variety of inventions for Echo’s scomp, one of which, you now found yourself in your kitchen, getting to test out its effectiveness for the first time.

“I have to say,” you murmur, arms wrapped around his waist as you observe him from behind, your chin lightly resting against his shoulder. “You’re doing a much better job than the stand mixer ever could.”

Echo stands, the attachment to his scomp lowered into the glass bowl, whirring as it stirs the ingredients. The mix looks smooth, slowly coming together in a blend. Echo lets out a low chuckle, and you can feel its slight rumble as he turns, retracting from the bowl and raising his scomp to give you a small salute.

“Happy to be of service,” he says with a smirk, startling slightly as a flake of the dough takes the opportunity to fall from the attachment, landing on the tip of his nose.

It’s your turn to giggle, and your hand stops him from instinctively moving to wipe it away as you rise onto your tiptoes, hurriedly exclaiming “I got it. I got it,” before you lean forward and, not giving him the time to protest, cheekily licking it off.

“You’re quite the opportunist,” he muses, moving towards the sink to remove the attachment and place it in a pile to be cleaned.

“Can I have what’s left on that?” you ask and he turns, a hand on his hip and his lips pressed together.

“Are you kidding? No,” he says, both exasperated and mortified. “That is so unsanitary. Meshla, do you realize how many diseases you could catch from eating raw cookie dough?” he asks, turning back to the sink.

“It was worth a shot,” you sigh in defeat, looking at the bowl of now mixed cookie dough with longing. You’re not usually this impatient and peckish for scraps. But really, after your first tried and failed attempt, you’re hungry, and eager to taste test the fruits of your labour

“What next, boss?” Echo asks a moment later, returning to your side and drying his hand on a tea towel.

“Now,” you say, beaming as you hold out an ice cream scooper to him. “Comes the fun part.”

*

“Perfect,” Echo murmurs in satisfaction, watching as the round ball of dough falls from the scoop into your waiting, cupped hands. 

The two of you had decided it would be easiest, and move faster, if it was done this way. Echo, working with a lot more precision than you had when you had been doing this on your own, using the ice cream scoop to separate the dough into little balls. And you, after retrieving them, dunking them into a bowl of white sugar, rolling each around until each surface had a generous amount dusted on, and setting each on the lined baking tray.

“This probably wasn’t how you envisioned spending the night of Life Day Eve,” you say quietly, your words tinged with a note of regret.

“None of that,” Echo gently chides, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours. “I’ve already told you, Cyar’ika, I really don’t mind that this is the way that it turned out.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and sensing your lingering hesitance, he continues. 

“You’re worried about spending time with them, aren’t you?” he asks, and his words aren’t accusatory, just a soft, knowing observation and you swallow, your eyes intent on your work as you nod your head slightly. 

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely a breath. “I know I’ve met all of them and have even spent time with a few of them when you come to visit, but this is different.”

“I understand that,” Echo murmurs, and from the sincerity in his voice, you can tell that he really does. “This feels more official than all of those other times?”

“Yeah,” you agree, setting the next ball on the cookie sheet and turning to receive the next one. “Life Day is all about family and mine... let’s just say they wouldn’t be overly thrilled to see me standing out on their doorstep if I showed up tomorrow for their celebration.” 

Echo hums, and the silence that follows is comfortable, thoughtful as he turns, contemplating you from the corner of his eye.

“But my family will,” he says quietly. “You know that, right? They’re really happy that you’ve agreed to come. Especially Omega. She’s been chattering my ear off about how excited she is to see you every time I’ve gone over to visit them.”

His mention of the girl pulls your lips up into a slight smile, but the sound you make is noncommittal and he frowns, taking a step forward, catching your chin in his hand.

“I need them to like me,” you say, trembling at the vulnerability in your own voice. “I need to do something, give them something so that I don’t...”

“Shh, sweetheart,” Echo softly interjects, thumb lightly brushing over your lips. “You don’t need to do anything. I promise, cyar, they already love you.”

“I doubt that,” you say, unable to hide the edge of residual bitterness that even now, still lingers in your voice. 

Echo is patient, letting out a breath, the backs of his knuckles gentle, unhurried, as they run along the curve of your cheek, as he takes a breath to carefully collect his next words.

“I know that your family has made you feel unwanted,” Echo says, after a moment's pause to collect himself. “And I know that a couple of words from me aren’t going to change how much that hurt you.”

His hand is, yet again, lightly nudging at your chin, bringing your eyes back up to focus on his warm, concerned golden depths.

“My heart is yours,” he says, his voice just a whisper, but still managing to carry the stone heavy weight of a promise beneath it. “And, if you want them to be, if you let them, my family will be your family, too.”

“Do they want that?” You ask, unable to hide the waiver in your voice.

Echo’s eyes soften, and you can’t help the way you nuzzle into his touch as he cups your cheek in his hand.

“They do,” he affirms, voice certain and steady. “And if that’s something you want, all you have to do is say so. I promise, cyar, whenever you’re ready, they’re waiting for you with open arms.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask in a shaking voice, and at the first glimmer of tears in your eyes, he’s reaching out, pulling you to his chest and holding you in his arms.

“I’m sure,” he says, without a glimpse of hesitance in his voice. “You don’t have to make any grand gestures for them to accept you, ner kar’ta. You just have to be my girl.”

He drops a kiss to the top of your head and, despite the blush that’s crawling up your cheeks, you squirm, tilting your head, going up onto your tiptoes to capture his lips with yours, to which he surrenders happily.

When you pull away, your cheeks are flushed, your lips slightly parted, and your voice breathless. 

“I, I think I can do that,” you murmur, looking up at him with a shy, barely concealed mix of nervousness and hope playing on your expression.

“I’m glad,” Echo beams, and the smile he gives you is a dazzling thing to behold. “Trust me, cyar, it’ll all turn out. You’ll see.”

You’re not really sure what he means by that, but, as you turn back to finish arranging the rest of the cookies, you decide that he has never led you wrong before, so you might as well take him at his word.

*

“Beauties,” Echo comments, bending to retrieve the cookie tray from the oven. “Now these aren’t such a bad batch, are they, meshla?”

Maybe it was the weight that you suddenly found had vanished from your shoulders after your and Echo’s chat, maybe it was just the late hour and the oven timer going off sending you a prolonged burst of energy. But you couldn’t help but bounce on the balls of your feet, peeking over Echo’s shoulder to catch a glimpse at the now perfectly baked, lightly sugar frosted chocolate crinkles.

“I know we should wait until tomorrow so that we can share them with everyone but...” you trail off, the indignant grumble of your stomach interrupting whatever excuse you were about to make.

Echo laughs, throwing his head back as his eyes sparkle with merriment. An arm wraps around your shoulders, and he tucks you against his side, looking down at you with a small grin.

“We made them. We deserve to taste test them,” he declares, and before you can protest, he swipes the nearest one from off the tray. “Want to share?”

You smile, nodding your head and helping him to break the cookie in equal halves.

“Cheers,” you grin, lightly bumping your half against his. Raising it to your lips, you indulge yourself in a large bite, closing your eyes and letting a soft “Mmm,” fall from your lips. It’s still warm, soft and gooey chocolate that melts in your mouth that reminds you, so quintessentially, of the holiday, and for once, only the good parts come to mind, as you watch Echo follow suit, though his first bite is much more delicate than yours. His eyes flutter close, and before you know it, both of you are looking at each other, your halves of the cookie gone within seconds.

You both smile, soft laughter falling from your lips as you both trade glances towards the tray, tempted to reach for another, but making a valiant effort to resist.

“Look at me, beautiful,” Echo hums. “You’ve got a little something right...”

He dips his head, leaning in, fingers delicately tilting your chin upward, lips warm as they brush against yours. You gasp, unable to hide a slight shiver as his tongue gently sweeps over your lips and he lets out a soft hum, fingers lightly teasing along your side, his hand eventually coming to rest at your hip. 

The kiss is sweet, filled with tenderness and topped with the lingering traces of sugar that Echo chases away with his lips. 

Faintly, as he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, feeling the soft puffs of air as you both try to regain your breath, you register the distant chimes of a grandfather clock, 12 rings of its bells to signify midnight, ringing in the new day with its song.

“Happiest of Life Days, Cyar’ika,” Echo whispers, a soft breath against your skin. 

“Happy Life Day, my love,” you say, your voice equally as soft.

Then, as the distant, echoing chimes of the clock ring and fade into the night, you cradle his face in your hands, tilting your head to kiss him again. You feel, for the first time in your recent memory of Life Days past, a sense of rightness, of knowing that here, with his warm body lightly pressing you against the counter and his soft lips settled against yours, content, it seems, to linger there until all coherent thoughts have been chased away from your mind with each teasing touch, that this is where you’re meant to be.

That somehow, despite having convinced yourself that you were never going to find it, you think that finally, truly, his arms might just be the safe, comforting place that you choose to call home.

*

“We made you a gift.”

Omega is beaming with excitement, almost on her tiptoes as she bounces on the balls of her feet with a wide smile, and looking down at her, it’s impossible not to be captivated and taken in by her infectious joy as she produces something from behind her back. 

Despite Echo’s stream of reassurances that all would be well as you left the house this afternoon, picking your way through rainy pathways and hopping around puddles, you still look to him now, reaching for his hand to feel the reassuring press of his fingers against yours.

“You did?” You ask, unable to hide the note of startled surprise in your voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring something for each of you. I didn’t know what you would like and...”

“It’s a gift,” Crosshair cuts you off, folding his arms as he leans against the wall.

“We do not expect nor require you to provide anything in return,” Tech states, much more kindly as he gives you one of his small smiles. “We merely hope that you enjoy it.”

“Hunter did the carvings,” Omega says, very carefully lowering something into your hands. “But we all contributed in one way or another.”

You look down to find a snow globe, rested atop  a circular, wooden stand beneath, cupped within your hands. Inspecting it closely, you find that indeed, there is something to signify each brother within the carvings of wood that decorate the base. From the small carving of Tech’s goggles, to Hunter’s skull emblem and Crosshair’s tattoo. 

“I made the snow,” Omega declares proudly. “And Wrecker took the photo.”

“What photo?” You ask and Wrecker grins, leaning across you and touching a small, unnoticed button at the top of the glass. 

A holoimage slowly fades into focus within the glass orb, snow lightly swirling around it. It’s of you and Echo, sitting out on a porch swing and snuggled beneath a blanket. You remember how the rest of them had teased you both, saying that it wasn’t even that cold outside and was the blanket really necessary?

Wrecker, in particular, had let out a booming laugh, claiming that since the two of you seemed to run so cold, maybe it was a sign that the two of you were perfect for each other.

“Aw, look at the two a ya. You can keep each other warm,” he had grinned, and you can remember him snapping the photo shortly after that.

“We all have one,” Omega continues, pointing to the mantle above the fireplace where indeed, you see a line up of six other snow globes. “You can take yours home, or you can set it with ours, if you want to.”

“You, you would be fine with that?” You ask the room at large, scanning their faces. For some reason, it feels wrong, and you don’t want to insert yourself into their already established Life Day family traditions.

“Why not,” Hunter grins, gesturing to the mantle. “You’re one of us now.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask, unable to hide the waver that’s crept into your voice.

“Of course we are. You make him so happy,” Wrecker beams, and before you know it he’s enveloped you into a fierce, tight hug that simultaneously knocks all the air from your lungs while also, at the same time, making you feel like you’ve just let out the biggest sigh of relief. He lifts you off the floor, which makes you let out a sound, somewhere between a startled gasp and a laugh. “That seems like as good of a reason as any to me,” he continues, suddenly gentle and steadying as he sets you back down.

“It’s true,” Crosshair snarks, watching as he idly twirls a toothpick between his fingers. “I’ve never seen him look like such a lovesick puppy before,” he says, pulling a disgusted face as he slides the toothpick between his teeth.

“Oh, shut up,” Echo grumbles, but when you turn to him, he’s ducking his head, his cheeks having gone slightly pink. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Omega declares, lightly elbowing Crosshair in the ribs. He pretends to give her a glare, then, as payback, lunges forward, easily grappling her and beginning to attack her with tickles. The small house is momentarily filled with her shrieks and giggles which ends with Batcher, torn between which of her owners needs to be protected from the other, shoves between the two of them, nudging her snout at both sets of scrabbling hands to entreat them to pet her and give her head scratches, which both happily oblige her demand.

“You are by no means obligated to,” Tech cuts in, smoothly redirecting the conversation back to you. “It is our gift, and you may do with it as you wish. But, if you would like to place your snow globe alongside ours, we have made a space for you, right beside Echo’s.”

“I would,” you admit, voice soft, wistful.

Echo rises to his feet, his hand held out in a silent offering. After a moment's pause, you take it, letting him guide you towards the blazing heat of the fire that warms your toes, caressing up your legs as you get closer.

With hands that are shaking despite the warmth, you lift your snow globe, careful and gentle as you lower it down into the spot that they’ve made for you, smiling as it fits perfectly beside Echo’s.

“There,” Echo murmurs, and the smile he gives you is soft, speaking volumes of his affection.

An arm curls around your waist, and you melt into him as he pulls you against his chest, letting out a happy sigh as warm lips brush against your forehead. When he speaks his voice is low, soft, and meant for your ears alone.

“Welcome to the family, Cyar’ika. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

When he leans in to kiss you this time, standing by the fire and in front of all of his family, you start to get that same feeling you got late last night, when you had shared your first Life Day kiss with him. Only this time, it’s not a glimpse, or an echo or a maybe. When you tilt your head, rising up onto your tiptoes to meet him, warm contentment settling over you like a soft blanket, you know, without any second guessing or lingering reason to doubt, that he is your anchor, your lodestar, and, most of all, that Echo is your home.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you finish wrapping the garland around the doorway. It's a delicate task, one that you've been painstakingly working on for the last hour, and Jesse's sudden appearance has almost caused you to ruin it. You climb down, brushing past him as you make your way to the center of the room.

The holiday season is approaching, and as the only non-clone, non-Jedi, festivity-enjoyer on base, you've decided to take it upon yourself to spread some holiday cheer. You've spent the last few days gathering decorations and supplies, and now, as you start to put up the finishing touches, you can't help but feel a little excited. You just wish Jesse could understand the joy that the holidays bring.

He follows you, a smirk still etched on his face as he leans against the wall. "Life Day, huh?"

"Yup."

"What's the point?”

"The point is it's fun." You're not going to let Jesse ruin this. This is your project, and you'll be damned if his Grinch-like attitude keeps you from enjoying yourself. "Look, just...go back to whatever you were doing."

“Nah.” Jesse shakes his head, pushing himself off the wall as he moves toward you. You don’t have to look at him to know he still has that stupid grin on his face. He's enjoying this. Enjoying the fact that he's ruining your holiday fun. You hate him. Well, you don't, but right now, you really wish you did.

"I'm serious, Jesse. If you're not going to help, just leave me alone,” you mutter as you open a box and pull out a strand of lights. It’s tangled, a result of your haste to pack it away last year, and you huff, struggling to free the knot.

"Alright, alright," Jesse laughs. You glare at him as he reaches over, easily untangling the cord before handing it to you. You grumble a thanks as you begin wrapping the strand around a fake tree. "How's this supposed to work again?"

"What do you mean? Just plug it in,” you say, pointing to the nearby outlet. Jesse rolls his eyes.

“I mean, like, the Life Day part. How does it go?" You look at him, confused, and he shrugs. "You know, what are we supposed to do? What are the rules?"

"There are no rules. Just hang out and eat and drink and have fun,” you tell him, reaching for another string of lights. Jesse grabs them before you can, and you give him a pointed look. "Jesse, what are you doing?"

"You said I had to either help or leave, so...I'm helping,” he says with a shrug. "Just show me where to put these."

You shake your head, still not understanding why he's suddenly so interested in helping you decorate. You decide not to question it, though, and instead point him to the next tree. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you continue hanging decorations, and you can't help but smile to yourself. You're surprised by how well Jesse's taken to this. He looks cute, his brow furrowed as he works, and you find yourself staring at him, mesmerized by the way the lights reflect off his armor. 

He looks up suddenly, and you quickly turn away, hoping he didn't notice you. When you finally work up the courage to glance back at him, he's still looking at you, an amused grin on his face. You flush, ducking behind the tree as you continue hanging ornaments.

With Jesse’s help, you finish decorating the common room in no time, and when the final touch, a sprig of mistletoe, is hung, you can't help but feel a surge of pride. You smile, hands on your hips as you take a step back to admire your handiwork.

"Not bad," Jesse says, bumping his hip against yours. “What’s with the plant, though?"

"Oh, the mistletoe? It's tradition. You have to kiss whoever you end up standing under it with."

He blinks, glancing at the plant before looking back at you. "Oh, uh...is there a rule about who's allowed to kiss, or can anyone kiss anyone?"

"Anyone can kiss anyone," you say, confused.

Jesse nods slowly, his gaze lingering on you. "Interesting..."

You raise an eyebrow, and he simply smiles. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head, and you have a feeling that, whatever he's planning, it's not good. You decide not to dwell on it, though, and instead, you step through the doorway, a bright smile on your face as you turn to look at him.

"I need to go check with the mess, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you tell him, and he nods. "Don’t let anyone else touch anything until then, alright?"

"I’ll guard it with my life, sir," Jesse jokes, and you shake your head.

"I mean it, Jesse," you say, a warning in your tone. You know how some of the men can get. If left unattended, they'll destroy your hard work in seconds. You want everything to be perfect, and that means keeping everyone else away from it until the party. "Everything has to be perfect. I--"

"Hey, don't worry," he cuts you off, his expression softening as he gives you a reassuring smile. "It will be. I promise."

You nod, returning his smile before you turn on your heel, a bounce in your step.

"Thank you," you call over your shoulder. "For helping."

"Anything for you," Jesse calls after you. His voice is loud, echoing in the empty hallway, and your heart races. You know he's joking. He's always like that. Flirty. It doesn't stop you from blushing, though, and as you walk away, you can't stop the smile from creeping across your face.

Your party is a success. There are more people than you expected, but the common room is filled with a warm glow and the smell of fresh pine and spiced wine. The food is great, the music is playing softly in the background, and best of all, everyone's having a good time.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You're not sure what it is that's gotten into the boys, Fives and Hardcase in particular, but you've had barely a moment of peace since you started the party. Every time you manage to slip away, they're there, dragging you into another conversation or another drinking game, herding you around the room like a lost pup. And if it's not them, it's someone else, always insisting on getting your opinion on something or pulling you into an impromptu dance. It's starting to get a little annoying.

The final straw is Kix, insisting the lights need adjusting. You know for a fact that they're perfect. You'd checked and double-checked every inch of the room before the party, and yet, here he is, practically begging you to come and help him. You're tempted to say no, to insist that he can handle it, but you know if you do, he'll just find some other way to bother you, so you reluctantly agree. You give him a pointed look, silently letting him know that this is the last thing he'll get from you, and then follow him across the room.

"Kix, they're fine. Seriously," you say, rolling your eyes as you watch him reach for a strand of lights. Your hand is faster, though, and you slap it away. Kix frowns, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he points to the string, motioning for you to move it.

"Just a little to the right, yeah, there. Perfect." He smiles, giving you a thumbs up. "Thanks. It looked like it was lopsided."

"Uh huh," you reply, unconvinced.

"What?"

"Kix, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying," Kix laughs, crossing his arms. He's not looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes are darting around the room, and you can tell he's trying to act casual. "Just thought the lights needed fixing. That's all."

"No, they don't." 

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. You're not buying his excuse, and the look on his face lets you know that he knows it. He's definitely hiding something. You look at him, waiting for him to explain, but he stays silent.

"Kix."

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Kix replies, a smile creeping across his face. It's an innocent smile, one that he knows will only serve to further pique your curiosity.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"I can't smile? I'm at a party," he points out, and you roll your eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm just...I'm just happy. And a little buzzed, I think. That wine's pretty strong."

"Fine, be that way," you mutter. Kix laughs, his smile growing wider.

"I will."

"Ugh. Fine, whatever." You shake your head, not wanting to argue with him. It's a waste of time. "I'll figure it out on my own, then."

"Fine," Kix chuckles, mimicking your tone, and you give him a dirty look before you turn and walk away.

You push your way through the crowd, mumbling apologies as you bump into people. You don't stop until you're safe in the kitchen, and once there, you lean against the counter, trying to calm yourself down. You're not mad, exactly, but the whole ordeal has left you a bit flustered, and as much as you want to go and enjoy the rest of the party, you're not sure that's going to be possible. Not with the boys constantly hovering around you.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try to relax. A minute or two passes, and then a soft voice cuts through the silence.

"What are you doing?"

You open one eye, a groan escaping your lips as you turn to face the intruder. You're met with Jesse's cheeky grin, and you shake your head, laughing softly. 

You shouldn't be surprised that he's here, interrupting your peaceful moment, and yet, somehow, you are. He seems to be the only one who hasn't bothered you all night. It's odd, and if you're being honest, a little suspicious. 

The thought crosses your mind that he might be plotting something, but when he gives you a soft smile, all those worries seem to melt away. You smile back, taking a sip of your drink before answering him.

"Hiding."

"Why?" he asks, stepping into the room. He moves slowly, cautiously, and you can tell he's trying not to startle you. You appreciate the gesture, but his careful approach only serves to confuse you more.

He's acting strange, and while you've chalked it up to him just being his normal, flirty self, you're starting to think that there's more to it than that. He's too careful, his actions too deliberate. You don't know why, but you can't help but feel like he's got something planned. Something involving you.

"Because," you sigh. Jesse chuckles, taking a step closer, his hands behind his back.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I just needed a break," you reply, running a hand through your hair. "The guys are...being weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. They won't leave me alone."

"Really? Weird." Jesse nods, the corners of his mouth twitching. He's trying to act serious, but the look in his eyes tells a different story. There's mischief there, a gleam that only seems to intensify when he steps toward you. "That is strange. You think maybe they're up to something?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Kix was acting really weird earlier," you complain. "And Hardcase kept trying to get me to drink with him. Alone. In the hallway. And Fives..."

You trail off, your brow furrowing. It suddenly dawns on you that all the boys efforts have been focused on isolating you, moving you toward one part of the room in particular. They've been herding you like a bantha, and if that wasn't clear enough, the way they've all seemed to conveniently disappear now is.

Jesse's still staring at you, the same smile on his face, but his eyes are different. There's a softness in them, a tenderness that's never there when he's joking around. It's almost as if...almost as if...Oh.

Oh.

“Jesse…” you start slowly.

“What?” he asks, his eyes flicking across your face. “What did I do? What happened?"

"You did something incredibly stupid,” you sigh, shaking your head. Jesse furrows his brow, confused, and you sigh again. "You didn't have to do all of this. You could have just asked me."

"I didn't—" he starts, but then he stops, realizing that there's no point in denying it. 

You know exactly what he's been up to, and while you should be upset, you can't help but laugh. It's the sweetest, most ridiculous thing anyone's ever done for you, and Jesse's clearly proud of himself, if the smile on his face is anything to go by. 

He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his voice is softer, almost shy.

"So, I guess I don't need this anymore, huh?"

He pulls the sprig of mistletoe out from behind his back, holding it up over your head. You roll your eyes, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you step closer. Jesse smiles, his hand brushing against yours. His skin is warm, and when he takes your hand, pulling you close, you feel butterflies in your stomach. You take a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, and then, slowly, hesitantly, you stand on tiptoe, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

You're about to pull away when you feel his hand on your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb brushing against your skin. He's gazing at you, his eyes filled with affection, and without thinking, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his.

It's a chaste kiss, quick and sweet, and when you pull back, he's watching at you, a stunned expression on his face. You bite your lip, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“You could’ve just kissed me, you know,” you murmur. Jesse grins, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah, I…” You lick your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I would’ve liked that, actually.”

“Well, that’s good to know. For next time." Jesse leans in, kissing your forehead, and you laugh quietly as you rest your head against his chest. He smells like fresh pine and spice, and you can't help but close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. He feels warm and safe, and when he whispers in your ear, his voice low and rough, it sends a shiver down your spine. "There will be a next time, right?"

"If you behave yourself, there might be," you tease. Jesse laughs, his fingers stroking your hair.

"I can do that. I promise. For you." He pauses, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Although, I think I can find a few ways to misbehave..."

"Jesse!"

"Kidding," he says, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Well, mostly."

"Good." You pull away, smacking him lightly on the chest. He's smiling, and you can't help but smile back. It's an infectious smile, one that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. "Now, come on. We have a party to get back to."

Jesse groans, but he doesn't protest as you take his hand, leading him back to the main room. He's quiet as you weave through the crowd, but when you glance back at him, his eyes are bright, his lips curled in a soft smile.

"Happy Life Day, cyar'ika."

You smile, squeezing his hand as the two of you slip back into the party. "Happy Life Day, Jesse."

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You turned off your comm and hesitantly approached the blinking lights again. You gently placed the locator beacon Sinker had given you near-ish the cluster (you didn't want to get too close after all), then backed away.

When you felt you were a safe distance, you turned and hastily followed your tracks back through the knee deep snow heading toward the Republic encampment.

After the clones and Republic army had cleared the Separatists off your planet you had offered your services to help them hunt down any stragglers. That was how you had been with Commander Wolffe and his Wolf Pack when they had discovered the droids. During the short interrogation that followed, the droids had mentioned a bomb planted on the mountain that overshadowed your village. The resulting avalanche would wipe out the Republic encampment, and consequently, your village.

Wanting to keep your home safe, and help the troopers who had so selflessly protected your village, you had volunteered to help search for the explosives. Now that you had found them, you were rethinking your choice. You could feel your hands sweating through the thick gloves you wore and it felt like your heart would thunder through your rib cage.

“Who volunteers to search for explosives?” you muttered to yourself as you trudged through the snow. “I’m not an explosives expert. I don’t even like it when balloons pop in the same room as me. What was I thinking?”

“Muttering to yourself again?”

The  voice, unexpected and close, made you jump and scream. You clamped your hands over your mouth, despite that fact it was too late to hide your yell, and looked around. Hiking toward you was a familiar figure in gray painted, white armored snow gear. He carried a hardshell backpack and dual blaster pistols were strapped to his hips.

“Commander Wolffe,” you said, recovering. “Why are you here? I thought you were with the others on the northern slope.”

You wanted to kick yourself for being so blunt. You were happy to have some time to spend with Wolffe. He came across as a quiet, stern man, but you’d seen him laugh with his brothers as they ate at the celebration the village had put on. You’d seen him comfort his men when they lost brothers in battle. You wanted to see more of that warmth inside him, beneath the cool, detached exterior he projected.

You sighed to yourself and started back toward the village. Wolffe fell in at your side.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Wolffe said, rather than answer your question.

“I found the explosives,” you said, your voice hopeful.

He nodded. “Sinker commed.”

The two of you walked in silence for a bit. The last of the droids were been mopped up. The only real thing keeping the 104th Battalion on planet had been the threat of bombs and an avalanche. Once the bomb was defused there was no reason for the Republic troops . . . for Wolffe, to stay.

“I guess you’ll be heading off to another world soon,” you said.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wolffe’s helmet turn your direction. He looked forward again. “Are you so eager to see the back of us?”

“No!” you said. “Not at all. Aside from running the Separatists off our world, you and your men have been a great help. With repairs. With the whole bomb thing.”

“You’re the one who found it,” Wolffe said. “My boys are just going to defuse it.”

As if you needed the reminder. The only thing keeping you from running off the mountain was Wolffe’s steady presence.

Taking a chance, you said, “Would you ever consider coming—”

You were interrupted by Wolffe’s comm going off.

Wolffe answered the call. “Wolffe—”

“Commander, there’s a tactical droid!” Sinker’s frantic voice said.

You could hear the sounds of blaster fire in the background. Your heart started beating double time.

“It’s got the detonator. Find cover!” Sinker yelled.

Up on the mountain, an explosion went off.

“Osik!” Wolffe snarled.

He grabbed your hand and started running through the deep snow.

“There’s a cave,” you said.

“I saw it,” Wolffe replied.

You gripped his hand tighter as a deep rumble filled the air, and you willed your legs to go faster through the deep snow. Your lungs ached with every panting breath of cold air. You didn’t dare look to see where the avalanche was. Your only focus was getting one foot in front of the other.

“Almost there,” Wolffe said.

Your foot hit a hidden hole and you went sprawling face-first in the snow. You shoved yourself up to your knees, then suddenly the world spun as Wolffe lifted you bodily and slung you over his armored shoulder. You clung to the backpack he wore, your breath coming in choppy pants as his shoulder rammed into your diaphragm with each of his long strides.

You had a great view of the wall of snow bearing down on the two of you.

“Wolffe!” you screamed, as the first bits of snow pelted your face.

Darkness engulfed you and a moment later you hit the ground with an “oof”.

The thunder of cascading snow continued for several minutes, during which you lay still and wondered how you were still alive.

“Berry?” Wolffe’s voice came from the surrounding darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Good. I thought that landing might have knocked you out.”

“No such luck,” you muttered.

Light flickered then steadied, revealing the cave around you in the glow of Wolffe’s helmet lights. He removed his helmet and set it on the ground.

“Are you all right?” he asked, kneeling at your side.

You took stock of yourself. Aside from a few bumps and bruises from that landing, and some soreness in your ankle when you’d stepped in the hole, you seemed to be okay. You told Wolffe as much.

“We’re going to be stuck here until they can dig us out,” Wolffe said. He removed his pack and sat next to you. “Do you have any supplies?”

“A little food and water,” you said, gesturing to your own pack. “I hadn’t planned to be up here very long. I was definitely going to be home before dark.”

Wolffe nodded. “I’ve got some supplies. If we ration, we’ll be okay for a few days.”

“You think it will take them that long?”

“Not really. It mostly depends on if they can find us through all the snow.” He tapped his comm. Only static came back. “I might have bumped it, or maybe the snow is too thick. Has anyone explored how far back this goes?”

You looked into the dark where Wolffe’s helmet lights didn’t reach.

“If anyone has, I don’t know about it,” you said.

“I’ll check it out,” Wolffe said.

He pulled a small flashlight out of a belt pouch and handed it to you. Then he donned his helmet and started toward the back of the cave.

Apparently, the cave went pretty far back, or turned, because you lost sight of Wolffe’s light. You turned your flashlight on the wall of snow blocking the cave entrance. Maybe you and Wolffe could start to dig yourselves out from your end. Then if it was the snow blocking his comm signal, he could get a message out.

You started to shiver as you waited for Wolffe to return. You took off your coat and did a quick assessment, making sure to get rid of any snow that had gotten into your layers when you’d fallen. Then you went through your pack to check your supplies. Half a bottle of water, some dried meat, and some climbing gear. Nothing to help keep you warm. But as you'd told Wolffe, you hadn't planned to be on the mountain too long. With a sigh, you sat back to wait.

You were trying to decide if you should go looking for Wolffe when he returned.

“We’re not getting out that way, unless you fancy a cold water swim.” He pulled his helmet off and set it on the ground near you, seating himself by your side.

“I’m not really dressed for it,” you quipped.

Wolffe actually tipped his head back and laughed.

Little tingles of pleasure fluttered in your stomach, and you smiled shyly at him.

“Are you hungry?” Wolffe asked.

You nodded. “A little.”

You pulled out some of your dried meat. Your nose wrinkled as Wolffe unwrapped a ration bar. His eyebrows went up when he spotted you looking at him.

“Your face says you don’t like my food.”

You snorted. “I’ve never seen something so unappetizing. Is that all you ever eat?”

Wolffe shrugged and pulled off a piece, holding it out to you. “It gives us all the vitamins and nutrients we need. It’s small so it doesn’t take up a lot of space.”

“All the high points in food,” you said, taking the piece. It was a little dry and almost flavorless. “Definitely wouldn’t be my first choice.”

You held out a piece of dried meat for him to take. He let out a little sigh of appreciation as he chewed.

“Yours is unquestionably the better choice,” Wolffe said.

The two of you finished eating in companionable silence. Wolffe tried his comm again, and with nothing else to do, you settled against the wall of the cave to wait.

It didn’t take long for you to start shivering again. Wolffe didn’t seem to notice. He’d taken a small took kit from a belt pouch and was fiddling with the comm on his vambrace.

“Why do Sinker and the boys call you ‘Berry’?” he asked without looking up.

It took you a moment to realize he was speaking to you. “Oh, well, I was out picking ice berries when Sinker and the others found me. They were tracking a squad of droids. The droids surprised me and were going to shoot me, but Sinker and the others arrived saved me. Afterward, they helped me gather the berries I’d dropped in my fright when the droids appeared, and walked me home.”

“That’s fitting,” Wolffe said. “It’s similar to how some of us clones choose our names.”

“Can I ask, how did you get your name?” You tucked your hands into your armpits, hoping to warm your frozen digits.

“Alpha-17, the clone who trained me as an Advanced Recon Commando, gave me the name. He said I led my men like a wolf leads his pack in a hunt.”

“I think I’d like to meet Alpha-17,” you said.

Wolffe scoffed. “No. You wouldn’t. He’s a cranky son of a rathtar and would chew you up one side and down the other.”

“Oh,” you said in a small voice.

“It’s nothing against you,” Wolffe said. “He’s like that with everyone, and I wouldn’t want to put you through that.”

“Oh,” you said, a little flush heating your cheeks.

Maybe, even if he didn’t like you the way you suspected you like him, Wolffe cared a little bit about you. Enough not to expose you to a cranky son of a rathtar anyway.

You gave a violent shiver and huddled deeper into your heavy coat. Your torso was warm enough, but everything from the waist down was suffering. You wiggled your toes in your boots and frowned.

“I c-can’t feel my feet,” you mumbled. You clenched your teeth to keep them from chattering.

Wolffe looked over at you. “What do you mean you can’t feel your feet?”

“Well, I s-sort of can feel my f-feet, but my t-toes—"

Wolffe was at your side in an instant, running his fingers over your head and down your neck. “Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“N-no. I’m pretty s-sure it’s just the cold—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” he demanded.

He leaned over, snagged his pack, and pulled it close. He rummaged around, looking for something.

“You weren’t c-complaining,” you said.

“My bodyglove has thermoregulation,” Wolffe growled. “I’m toasty as a Life Day nuna roast.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, ducking your head.

Wolffe paused and lifted your chin so you had to meet his mismatched gaze. “I’m not mad at you. I should have paid better attention to your condition.”

He pulled out a heatpac and activated it. Loosening the laces on your hiking boots, he removed them and stuck your feet on the little packet that was quickly warming up. Then he pulled out a silvery square which unfolded into a thin-looking survival blanket which he wrapped around you. Finally, Wolffe removed his bulky upper armor and settled behind you, pulling you against his warm chest.

You started to realize how cold you’d been as your muscles began to relax with the warmth.

“Feeling better?” Wolffe asked.

“Yeah,” you said drowsily.

“Get some rest,” he said. “The Wolf Pack will have us dug out in no time.”

“’Kay.”

*   *   *

You made an unhappy noise as bright light shone behind your closed eyelids. You tried to burrow under  the covers into the warmth of your bed, but it was a lot more solid than you remembered. Awareness started to leak back in as familiar voices filled the air.

“Found ‘em!”

“Commander, we were worried.”

“Took you long enough,” Wolffe said, his voice seeming to emanate from under your ear.

Thank the Force! Wolffe’s men must have finally dug out the cave entrance. However, your cheeks started to heat up as you recalled your position, curled up in the commander’s lap.

“It’s about time.”

“Aww, they’re so cute.”

“Finally.”

“Think the commander will mind if we take a holo?”

“I’ll bust you all down to shinies if you keep this up,” a voice rumbled under your ear. “Everybody out.”

Still chatting and chuckling to themselves, the Wolf Pack left the two of you alone.

“Are you toes still all attached?” Wolffe asked as you sat up and reached for your boots.

You wiggled said digits before pulling a boot on. “Yeah, all intact. Thank you for the heatpac.”

Wolffe reattached his armor and started gathering up the emergency blanket and spent pac.

Once you had yourself in order again, you swung your pack up on your shoulders, chewing on your lip. You looked up to find Wolffe watching you, his own pack in place and helmet tucked under his arm.

You might not get the chance to enjoy his company much longer. Firming your resolve, you blurted, “Would you like to come to dinner at my place tonight?”

At the same time, Wolffe asked, “Would it be okay if I gave you my comm code?”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment.

Then you smiled. “I’d love to have your comm code.”

A flush rose in Wolffe’s cheeks and a little smile played over his lips. “What time is dinner?”

The scope of your rifle was perfectly trained on the man you had been hired to kill, and at any moment you could have taken the shot. Despite the fact that there were still one or two people in the alleyway, your vantage point was tucked away, perfectly hidden among the shadows of a nearby rooftop. 

But your job was always the easiest when there weren’t as many people around to ask questions, so biding your time was the most prudent decision.

The lightsaber strapped to your leg was itching to be used, but the risks you would take by lighting it would surely outweigh any rewards it reaped. The Empire was still on the hunt for whatever was left of the Jedi, and since that search showed no signs of abating, you were forced to play it safe. Even though your experiences had been focused on the dark side of the Force and you hadn’t once set foot in the Jedi Temple, you weren’t convinced that the Empire’s bumbling infantry would spare your talent solely because your saber glowed red. 

With a fall from grace that was quick and secretive, contract labor and mercenary work was the path of least resistance, and you had taken the first steps down it even before the end of the Clone War. Dooku had high standards for his assassins, and once your performance had been deemed unsatisfactory, you barely escaped with your life. With no love lost for any of the factions vying for rule of the more valuable systems, you worked tirelessly to facilitate your fade into oblivion in tandem with the rise of the Empire. 

You rarely saw familiar faces this far outside the galaxy’s center anyway. 

Your pointer finger curled inwards as the number of witnesses dwindled, and it was just barely hovering over the trigger of your rifle when a flash of white and blue caught your peripheral attention. A cloaked figure had entered the alley, a dark and bulky poncho obscuring most of his identity, but the movement of his arms and legs as he walked revealed glimpses of the plastoid covering his limbs. Whatever his name was, this man was a clone trooper, and from the looks of it, you had come into contact with his former battalion. 

Your attention was certainly piqued, as you had yet to see a clone who had been allowed to keep the identifying markings on his armor. Word on the street was that the Empire was no longer in the market for identical soldiers, so what was this man doing? 

If he was trying to be stealthy, it wasn’t exactly working. 

You watched a sneer fill your target’s face as he was finishing up a conversation on his comm device, having noticed the newcomer in the space. Whether that expression was born of a hatred for clones or of this man personally, you had no idea. But as the clone pulled a blaster out from under his bulky cloak and trained it on your quarry, you could tell that the interaction was not going to be one of trust and understanding, and that you needed to step in. 

Your target pulled out his blaster as you tapped into the Force, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, unknown and unseen. A crueler version of yourself might have let them take each other out before pulling the trigger, but you moved before that could happen, leaving only one body laying on the cold ground this time. 

It took a simple leap off the roof to enter the space, and you slung the rifle across your back as you stared at the clone trooper, who immediately trained his blaster on you (and to be fair, you didn’t exactly blame him for acting on instinct). 

But everything about this interaction changed once you heard this particular soldier speak your name, his tone sharp as he made no move to lower his weapon. 

Even if he hadn’t spoken, the glimmer of recognition on his face was impossible to ignore, as was the knowing fear that he was probably trying so hard to hide.  

Your lightsaber was in your hand in an instant as you stared him down, searching your memory for any clue that might clue you into his identity. It had been a pleasure antagonizing Anakin Skywalker and the 501st legion on multiple occasions, but you had never seen any of the troopers without their helmets, and you didn’t think he’d react too kindly if you asked him to remove the cloak so you could get a better look at his armor. 

He had blonde hair (is this really what they all looked like?), and the bulky poncho draped over his body was dirty from however long he had spent wearing it without wash. You could see the fatigue on his face, cementing your observation that he was indeed a deserter, but despite the glare he wore and the gun in his hands, you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. 

“What are you doing here?” he spoke again, and a memory stirred in your mind as you recognized the cadence of his voice. Of course Skywalker’s second-in-command would be able to recognize you, the two of you had chased each other through more hallways, tunnels, and alleyways than you could really count. 

Retracting your lightsaber (though not yet stowing it away), you raised your hands, palms outward. “I’m not bad anymore,” you said, a lightness present in your voice that matched the small smile on your face.  

Captain Rex though, didn’t seem to show the same level of comfort that you did in this moment. “That's a classic good person thing to say." 

A short laugh escaped your mouth. “What, you don’t believe that people can change?” you said, hoping that this wouldn’t come to a fight. “I spared your life, didn’t I?” 

Rex was silent as he considered the truth, that he had no idea you were hiding in the shadows for every moment that he had spent in this alley, and that you definitely could have killed him if you wanted to. “And yet you’re still an assassin,” he eventually retorted.

“I prefer the term bounty hunter actually,” you said. “Since I get paid for my skills now.” 

“What?” 

“Despite the fact that Dooku was loaded, he wasn’t exactly the most generous boss,” you responded. “Something I think you might be able to understand, since I know the Republic never gave you anything but a blaster and a kama for your troubles.”  It was at this point that Rex finally lowered his weapon, and the smile returned to your face as you let out an exaggerated breath of relief. “Thanks doll.” 

His face morphed back into a glare for that comment. 

“Look, I’m only here for him, and I have no intention of chasing you down,” you said, gesturing down at the corpse still splayed out across the ground between you. Despite the fact that you wanted to trust him, you were holding your saber in a way that it could be lit with but a moment’s notice. “If we both leave now, it can be like this never happened, and you can go on doing whatever kind of ugly business brought you to this Maker-forsaken system in the first place.”

The air was silent as he stared, this time making no expressions to indicate whether he might be considering your proposition or not. You really didn’t want to have to kill him, and it was only partially because you were finally made aware of how handsome he was (even if the poncho was a little much). 

Besides, you weren’t lying when you said (in less eloquent terms) you weren’t working for the Sith anymore, and you wished him no harm. 

Thankfully though, he didn’t raise his weapon again, and you could feel your shoulders relax, the hand holding your lightsaber drooping slightly. “Deal.” 

No more pleasantries were exchanged as he disappeared, and once a holopicture of your target’s lifeless body was safely stored on your datapad and the body had been moved to rot behind the dumpster, you didn’t stick around either. 

Later that evening, as you laid on the makeshift cot in the abandoned warehouse you were using as a temporary base of operations, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever see him again. The chances were unlikely, sure, but you wanted to believe that they weren’t completely off the table. 

***

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a flash of blond hair. No, it couldn’t be him. 

It had been two standard years since you first ran into Captain Rex in that desolate alleyway, and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t found his way back into your thoughts multiple times since that day. It certainly didn’t help that every once in a while the two of you crossed paths once more, the looks you shared laced with a surmounting amount of tension.

The second time had been at a market in the middle of the Outer Rim, and despite the sweltering suns high in the sky, you recognized the loose cloak he wore and the glimpses of armor that peeked out when he moved. Did he not have any other clothes?

You hadn’t spoken to him that time, and the same thing transpired after that, when the two of you locked eyes on Corellia a few months later. Yet again too far away to actually speak, he had offered a knowing nod as the two of you went about your various businesses. You had long since refused to take any jobs that marked runaway clones as a target, and word of a fugitive network of former Republic soldiers was starting to spread. It gave you hope, in a way you didn’t quite understand. Sometimes you found yourself hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but things never seemed to pan out when you were actively looking.  

Now though, in a seedy cantina nearly half the galaxy away from the place you saw him last, you could have sworn you recognized the plastoid he tried so hard to hide with an ill-fitting cloak. 

Yeah, that was definitely him. 

“Funny seeing you here,” you said, voice airy and casual as you sat down. This table was far too big for just one person, with the bench stretching around three sides rather than just two across from each other. 

Though no surprise registered on his face, Rex just rolled his eyes as he looked up from the drink he was nursing. The ice in it had long since melted, no doubt worsening the taste, but you suspected it was more of a prop than a refreshment at this point. “Who are you here to kill this time?” 

Shrugging in response to his question, you reached across the table to grab the glass from his loose grip, face curling in disgust as you took a sip. “That’s terrible, you’re actually drinking it?” Immediately, you had flagged down a serving droid and ordered another round for both Rex and yourself.

Despite your friendly tone (and the fact that you were getting him a new drink), his stare did not waver. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

Playfully rolling your eyes, you shot him a smile. “No one, actually,” was your smug response. “But it’s nice to know that you think so little of me. Why are you here?” 

He tensed. “Information.” 

“Ah, is that why you’re acting all cagey? Am I messing with your cover?” 

The glare that you were starting to know all too well returned to his face. “No, but you are messing with my ability to listen to what’s happening around me.” 

The serving droid had returned with the drinks you ordered, and you pushed one in Rex’s direction. “I was looking for information too,” you said. It was a foolish move, especially since you weren’t entirely sure you could trust him, but you couldn’t stop yourself in time. “And I don’t always kill people for money.” 

“But you admit that you have, even after you left the Sith.” If you looked hard enough at him, you could swear that the ghost of a smile was starting to pull on the corners of his lips. You wondered if to him, this tone was equivalent to flirting. 

“There’s not too many positions open out there for someone with my skill set,” you responded, shrugging once more as you took a sip of your drink. “Especially now, without legal chain codes.” 

“There’s always the act of resistance,” Rex said. “We could use someone with your skills, you know.” 

“How much do you get paid?” you asked, and the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

A short laugh escaped his lips, but you didn’t get too much time to recognize it before the doors to the cantina were thrown open and Imperial stormtroopers came barging in.  

The bar chatter cut out in an instant as patrons stared at the newcomers, trying to discern what they could possibly be doing here. Immediately, you could see fear flash across Rex’s face, even though he tried hard to push it away. He shifted, moving so that he was situated in the corner of the booth, now not as visible to the newcomers as he previously was. 

You didn’t ask exactly what information Rex had been after, but you’d be willing to bet your saber that it had to do with either the Empire or its financial allies. While you had fallen off the face of the galaxy in the days after your departure from Dooku, and become even more of a shadow after his death, It didn’t seem that Rex had been allowed the same luxury (and it didn’t help that he couldn’t exactly deny being a clone). 

You moved away from the edge of the booth as well, the two of you closer than you had ever been before. You could hear a distant order from the troopers for patrons to show their chain codes, and your heart dropped. You knew that you would only draw more attention to yourself (and Rex) should you try to leave right now, but it wasn’t looking like you really had any other choice. 

The two of you stared at each other as the soldiers started to make their way around the bar, and an idea took hold in your mind. Reaching out to grab his arm, you pulled him closer, the two of you nestled in the corner of the booth. “Please trust me,” you said, voice pitched low as you leaned in. 

Confusion didn’t even have time to settle on his face before the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer, and he quickly nodded. Your lips were on his before anything else could happen, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this a little bit. 

Maker, he was a good kisser. 

You could feel Rex’s hands move to rest on your waist, and the material covering the booth’s benches made it even easier for him to pull your body closer. Maybe you could have gotten away with remaining completely still as you tried to remain unnoticed, but it certainly made more sense to really go for it, to really sell the act to whoever dared interrupt you. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut the brewing fantasies in your brain short, and you detached your face from Rex’s to see two stormtroopers in stark white armor staring down at you. “What?” you growled. 

To Rex’s credit, he took things a step further. While you glared at the Imperials, he didn’t even turn to look at them, instead keeping his face hidden as he placed kisses on your neck. Starting out feather-light, his lips lingered more with each passing second, and if you were being honest, it was starting to become a little bit of a distraction. 

“We need to see yo-your chain codes,” one stuttered, the other shifting uncomfortably on his feet. It was clear that they were trying to look anywhere but at you, and another idea took hold in your brain. 

A breathy whine left your lips as you nodded, and you could feel Rex smile against your skin, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. His arms pulled you even closer, to the point that with another movement you would be fully on his lap. 

When he gently nipped at the lobe of your ear, a shocked breath filled the space, and if you weren't so focused on survival in the moment, a fire might have taken hold in your stomach. 

Thankfully though, this seemed to be the push these troopers needed to take the hint. “Come on,” one of them said, and even though you couldn’t see his face you knew he was rolling his eyes. “We don’t get paid enough for this.” 

Once there were no longer Imperial eyes on you and the other troopers began to leave the way they came, Rex pulled away. “Quick thinking,” he mused, voice deeper than usual. 

“Just one of my specialties,” was your response, as you desperately tried to keep from glancing at his kiss-swollen lips. “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” 

“Nowhere,” he said with a shrug, that quick flash of a smile once again appearing on his face before he moved back to the earlier topic of conversation. “You really wouldn’t want to work for the rebellion?” 

You paused. “I’m not opposed to it, but I highly doubt anyone in their right mind would trust me, given my past allegiances.” 

“I don’t know,” he responded. “Like you’ve told me the first time we ran into each other, people can change.” 

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that I still kill people for money, and you’re mobilizing to take down an oppressive mega-regime.” 

“Half the people I work with are fugitives, smugglers, or soldiers. Personally, I think you’d fit right in.”

A sly smile spread across your face as you looked at him. “Is this just because you want to be able to kiss me again?”

You expected a playful jab, a huffed response to the question before the two of you ultimately went your separate ways, but much to your surprise, Rex nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his lips curling into a genuine smile. “Because given the amount of times we’ve run into each other all across the galaxy, I’m starting to think it’s fate.”

A playfully scathing response was on the tip of your tongue, but as much as you wanted to throw a gentle jab about the foolishness of belief in his direction, you stopped. Deep down you wanted the same thing that he did, and you really didn’t want to mess up your chances. “I don’t know about fate, but I’d really like to give this a try.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, and the expression on your face was a more vulnerable one than you’ve ever worn before. 

You were still so close to each other, despite the atmosphere of the cantina having generally returned to normal after the troopers left, and you could feel Rex reach out to take your hand. “Me too,” he said, before leaning in and placing his lips back on yours, in a much more caring and passionate manner than before. 

Technically, you hadn’t even started the business you had come here for in the first place, but as his hands found your waist once more, that was the furthest thing from your mind. 

- the end -

Fives hated the snow just as much as Anakin. After being created on Kamino and suffering through endless rotations of nothing but rain, the clone hated any kind of precipitation but especially the cold kind.

His brothers, namely Hardcase and Jesse, found a childlike wonder in the snow. Kix and Echo, on the other hand, saw it as a perfect opportunity to catch up on some reading on the holopad. No matter what their fancy was, the white powder never failed to bring a grin to the faces of the 501st. Except for Fives.

While his other brothers in the 501st enjoyed snowball fights and warm beverages they hardly ever indulged in on their few hours of downtime, Fives uncharacteristically preferred to stay in their bunks, buried under the thin regiment blankets and a frown on his face.

So when you had asked Rex where the Arc trooper was, you were confused when he laughed at you like you were left out of a huge secret.

“He’s where he always is when we’re on these planets,” Rex said, a husky laugh bubbling out of him.

“What do you mean?”

“Fives hates the cold,” Jesse chimed in.

You tilted your head, brows furrowing at the information. This was news to you. Sure, you hadn’t been with General Skywalker and the 501st for long, but it this was common knowledge, why didn’t anyone tell you?

“He hates the cold?”

Jesse and Rex nodded, glancing at each other like they were exchanging a secret. And you hated not being in on it.

Fives had been a longtime friend crush and the fact everyone seemed to know about his distaste for the cold except you left a bitter taste in your mouth—worse than the one the rations gave you.

“So where is he?” You asked.

Another pointed look was exchanged between the two clones before Jesse answered you. “Check his barracks. Probably under the pile of blankets.”

You nodded and gave a nod to the two men before setting off on your mission to find Fives.

And lo and behold, when the door to his barracks slid open there was a pile of blankets on his bed.

A soft smile found its way onto your face and a warmth spread in your chest despite the cold of the base.

“Well, doesn’t this look comfy?” You questioned in an exaggerated voice as you stepped into the room. “I could take a nap in this big pile of blankets.”

You watched, but there wasn’t a movement from the pile so you continued your ploit.

Faking a yawn, you stretched out before unceremoniously flopping right onto the pile of blankets and heard it scream.

“Gah! Hey, get off!”

You laughed as the pile of blankets squirmed underneath you, and as the fuzzy blue one on top was pulled back, you finally saw the face of the man you were searching for, his characteristic goatee and tattoo making you grin.

“Gotcha,” you grinned.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked.

Your reply was simply a little shrug. “I was looking for you and a little Captain told me that I might find you here.”

An uncharacteristic groan came from Fives. Usually he was the most cheerful person in the room, but at the moment, he was even grumpier than General Windu.

“Why the frown? You’re grumpier than a wampa.”

Another groan echoed through the room. “Didn’t Rex tell you? I-“

“Hate the cold, yes, yes,” you interrupted. “But c'mon, don’t you want to see something amazing?”

Fives simply huffed and pulled the blankets over his head again, nearly knocking you off his little cocoon in the process.

“Fivessss,” you whined, getting up and standing next to his bunk. “You’ll love it! Please?”

“No.”

Fives was stubborn but you weren’t going down without a fight. With a swift tug, you pulled the pile of blankets off of him.

The man gasped and reached out to try to grab the fuzzy garments back, but you dragged them out of his reach.

“Nuh-uh. C’mon, Fives. Let me show you something!”

With a groan, Fives ran his hand over his face. “Then I get the blankets back?”

You nodded, teasingly waving the blankets in your hand.

“Fine,” Fives agreed begrudgingly. “Let me grab my coat.”

You grinned victoriously, tossing the blankets back in the bed as Fives gathered his coat and gloves.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” Fives scolded.

You simply laughed and grabbed his arm, tugging him out of the barracks and towards the bay doors.

“I’m not gonna like this,” Fives protested as you neared the snowy entrance.

“You’re gonna love it.”

“I doubt it,” he mumbled under his breath as you finally pulled him outside into the cold night.

Your breath froze in the air as you exhaled, making your eyes light up in excitement. Keeping a tight grip on Fives’ arm, you brought him to a nearby hill, ignoring his protests and complaints.

“Look,” you instructed, nodding to the sky.

With slight reluctance, Fives looked out to the horizon, and he gasped.

The sky was lit up in brilliant green and blues and purples. The colors merged together and swirled across in effortless waves that entranced the clone.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, scared to speak as if the sparkling colors and twinkling stars in front of him would suddenly vanish.

“What- what is it?”

“The aurora borealis. It’s caused by something or other with the atmosphere,” you whispered, eyes fixated on Fives as he stared at the sky.

“It’s beautiful, cyare, absolutely beautiful.”

A swell of pride filled your chest. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Cold isn’t so bad anymore, is it?”

And for the first time that night, a small chuckle left Fives’ mouth and he felt like himself again. “No, not at all.”