#pets4vets

“Thanks for dinner,” she said quietly, shifting her eyes from her plate to his and crossing one arm across herself to rub the outside of the other. 

“Yeah baby,” Jesse purred with a cocky grin. “I mean, I got the dinner but you brought the dessert.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a treat,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Want to take the party back to your place?”

“Oh, um. I’ve got to work early, so I think that’s all I’ve got time for now. But thanks again,” she offered, trying to mask the cringe on her face with a disingenuous smile. 

“Alright, your loss… heheh…”

“Yeah…”

They made their way to the door of the restaurant, Jesse holding it open for her as she shuffled awkwardly past him. She hesitated on the sidewalk, turning back to face him with that same feeble grin. Another thanks for dinner. An offer to walk her home. Declined. A question about another date. After a long, uneasy pause, that was also declined.

Jesse kept up his best face, chest puffed and confidence set firmly in place, until she disappeared around the corner, then he slumped, turning to begin his own walk home. A glance at the chrono reminded him that he wasn’t allowed back in the apartment he shared with Kix for another hour and a half… The cramped flat they rented together didn’t allow for much privacy, and his roommate had been excited to take advantage of the alone time with his partner from Right to Love, a matchmaking service for clones wanting to live as freely as they were able since the war had ended and they were released from service. 

The endless flashing lights of the Coruscant streets were oppressively bright as he plodded aimlessly, unsure of where to go. A deep sense of resentment was growing within, and he didn’t realize he was muttering under his breath until a few strange looks from passersby clued him in. Many of his brothers had found immediate success with Right to Love, now experiencing the joys of a relationship in ways they’d never thought possible when they’d been nothing more than property their entire lives. And yet here he was, having tried to connect with five different people now, each one entirely put off by the end of the first date. His assigned case manager at Right to Love had assured him that matches weren’t always perfect the first time around, and sometimes the process took a little longer to ensure the ideal fit. 

Doubt was growing in the pit of his stomach as he walked. What was it about him that was getting in the way? He was throwing himself wholeheartedly into this pursuit, and yet each attempt seemed to be less encouraging than the last. The resentment began to coil in his chest, heating up into anger, and he leaned into it. Anger was familiar. Anger, he could deal with. It made him feel powerful and in control, pushing aside any tendrils of fear or sadness that lay at its core. A sign up his head caught his eye, and he turned abruptly to barge through the door. 

Music thumped inside, the small crowd on the dance floor moving as one to the beat, and he jostled his way around the edge to find a seat at the bar. He waited for a while, watching the bartender help customer after customer, including those that had arrived after him. When the man began polishing some glasses, Jesse finally called out, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Can I get some service here?”

The bartender slowly finished wiping his glass, sidling down to the end and resting his palms on the counter with no attempt to hide the disdain on his face. 

“Did your giant face tattoo block you from seeing the sign on the door?” he drawled. “No clones. Go back to your own district.”

“You’re living in the past,” Jesse growled, the snake in his chest twisting and hissing. “Credits are credits. What does it matter who they come from?” 

“Just get out,” exhorted a Zabrak on the stool beside him who’d had his back firmly turned to him from the start. “Before we make you.”

He’d had enough.

“Go ahead and try,” he snarled, smacking a fist on the counter and rising to his feet. The Zabrak was in his face immediately, flanked by a nat-born and a Weequay who looked far too excited to throw hands. 

“Know your place,” the nat-born taunted, leaping forward to throw a swing, which Jesse dodged and countered with one of his own, sinking a fist into the man’s stomach and earning a satisfying grunt of pain. The brawl exploded, quickly changing the three-on-one situation into an entire mob set on teaching the clone a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. The ARC trooper held his own, ducking and swinging, using leverage to toss one body into another, but the blows were coming from every direction. A foot to the back of his knee knocked him off balance, right into someone else’s fist.

The next thing he knew, he was unceremoniously thrown onto the sidewalk among a litany of curses and insults, and he scrambled to his feet, body throbbing with numerous bruises from the punches and kicks that had landed as he’d tried to hold them all off. His nose was bleeding, and he wiped it on his sleeve before pinching it hard, stalking toward his building in a tornado of rage. 

He sat outside on the stoop for the remaining hour, ruminating on the sheer injustice of it all. But eventually, the hot indignation quieted, and in the stillness, he fought to stuff down the disappointment that whispered judgment and failure in its place. 

* * * 

“Come on, give it a try.” Kix straightened his scrubs as Jesse slouched against his bedroom doorway. “It’ll be a different dynamic. Might be helpful.”

“I don’t need help,” Jesse scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest. 

“I know,” Kix affirmed quickly, “But the food carts in the square are delicious. So bring your next date and just come along for that.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly-cut hair and tilted his head at his mirror, checking that the first few letters of his head tattoo were hidden as much as possible by his dark locks. The medical clinic he worked at had some fairly strict rules around personal appearance, and considering how difficult it was to find clone-friendly jobs, no matter how qualified they were, he wasn’t about to risk losing his placement over something as trivial as that. 

“Fine,” Jesse huffed. “I’m doing this for the ronto wraps, you know.”

Kix grinned, clapping him on the back and squeezing his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “You’ve been doing too much upper-body, vod. Have a leg day.”

“Hah. Go clean some crusty old geezers, di’kut.”

“Oh please. I’m saving lives out there,” Kix threw over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Jesse sighed. That did seem like a much better purpose than his own job as a personal trainer at a local gym, where most of his clients were flaky hopefuls who wanted to get into shape without putting in the time and work that it required. It paid well enough, though, and gave him an outlet for a sense of purpose as well as a place to exercise. If he were honest, he’d hoped he’d meet someone there, figuring they’d be more aligned with his interests and lifestyle, but after months upon months of dismal prospects, he’d gone ahead and applied at Right to Love. He sighed, turning to rummage in the cooling chamber until it was time for work.

* * * 

Days of work and leisure blended together, and Jesse found himself spending more time at the gym, adding cardio sessions on top of his bodybuilding regimen as a way to blow off steam. He finally got another match from Right to Love and agreed to go on the double date with Kix and his partner, laboring a disproportionate amount of time over what to wear. He didn’t want to admit it, but with each date he felt increasingly desperate. Desperate to prove that there wasn’t something wrong with him. Desperate to feel like he had access to the whole variety of options for a “normal” life. Desperate to enjoy the care, intimacy, and connection that some of his brothers had found. 

He straightened the long-sleeved henley shirt and rolled up the sleeves a little. Ladies loved the forearms, right? Slipping a wallet into his back pocket, he checked his reflection one last time and ventured into the living room where Kix was waiting for him. 

“Here goes nothing,” he grumbled. 

“That’s the spirit,” Kix nodded sagely, a fond smirk on his face.

The square had a weekly event where all the food carts in the vicinity would gather to offer their delectable delicacies, and there really was something for everyone, making it a very popular attraction. Jesse swaggered beside his date, Kix and his partner bringing up the rear, and shared stories of valor and bravery as she nodded and made small sounds of agreement here and there. The four of them had shared some snacks from a variety of vendors and were now walking it off along the city streets. 

Coming to a somewhat scenic overlook of a steep dropoff with many Coruscant levels stretching down below, the four of them sat on a couple of benches. Kix stretched his arm across his partner’s shoulders, and they nestled into his side with an affectionate gaze. Jesse shifted awkwardly beside his date, a beautiful redhead that made his mouth go dry when he tried to talk. Yet he’d pushed past it with bravado and confidence, he felt simultaneously certain and completely unsure of her interest. Kix was murmuring in his date’s ear, bringing a demure smile to their face, and Jesse turned to look at the redhead beside him. 

“So… You mentioned some adventures in the jungle… Did I tell you about our campaign on Felucia?” he asked, launching into the story before she was able to respond. He wove an exhilarating tale of their encounter with both Separatist forces and the Commerce Guild, finishing with a flourish and grinning proudly. 

“Sounds like the war was wild,” she offered.

“You’re karking right it was,” he laughed, attempting to slip his arm around her shoulder as well, but she stood up quickly. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I… I’m gonna go.” 

Jesse watched her leave, speechless, then was flooded with embarrassment as he felt the eyes of Kix and his partner on his back. He slowly turned to face them, and the empathetic looks on their faces added insult to the injury. 

“See you at home,” he muttered to his brother, nodding to Kix’s partner and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he trudged back to their apartment. Kix watched him for a long time, nodding at the murmured condolences from his partner, who was incredibly kind and gentle, both admiring and strong in their own right, and he was regularly blown away at the fact that he’d been able to find them. Their compassion only served to deepen his own hope that his brother could find whatever it was he was looking for. 

* * * 

The next morning, a much-needed day off of work for both of them, Jesse was sprawled on the couch with a lazy hand resting on the steaming mug of caf on the nearby side table. Kix was scrambling some eggs in the kitchen, casting the occasional glance over the counter at his brother’s dejected slump. He was torn; Jesse was notoriously stubborn, but Kix also knew him better than most anyone else, and if he kept continuing in the same pattern, he would likely keep getting the same result. He flipped the eggs one more time and turned off the burner, scattering some shredded cheese over the top of them and putting a lid over the pan to melt it all together. 

“You… uh… seemed different last night,” he ventured, picking up his own caf, now mostly cold, and sitting in the armchair across from the downcast clone. 

“Mmm,” was the only response. 

“Does it always go that way?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s… What’s with the swagger stuff?” Kix asked, abandoning the subtlety. Jesse cast a hard look at him, but he caught the quickly-concealed flicker of hurt beneath the tattooed face.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t really seem like you. Did you answer the questionnaire honestly?”

“Yes!” Jesse said defensively, furrowing his brow.

“Well… then that might be why the dates aren’t going so well, if they’re expecting you to act… normal. You’re smart and pretty down-to-earth most of the time. Last night it felt more like you were trying to prove yourself somehow.”

His words stung, and Jesse balked at the feeling of being perceived so accurately. But a sense of resignation had settled in again, and he shrugged, attempting a nonchalant facade. 

“I’m just gonna get a pet. That’ll have to lo–... to put up with me, right?”

“Sure,” Kix sighed. “I’ve heard good things about P4V.”

“Look, di’kut, I know I can’t even get a second date, let alone some bedroom action, but I don’t think I have the credits for a sex worker… At least not a good one.”

“Classy as always,” Kix rolled his eyes. “It’s not a brothel, it’s called Pets 4 Vets. They have a variety of service animals to help with the difficult aspects of adjusting to civilian life.”

“I want a good-sized Massiff, not some fluffy little Loth-rat to lick me when I have ‘big feelings’,” Jesse snorted. 

“Kriff, you are thick sometimes.”

“Just these thighs.”

“Right. Just try it.”

“We’ll see.”

* * * 

You stroked a hand down the bogling's back, running fingers along the soft fur of its fluffy tail. It leaned into your touch with a contented noise, and you closed the cage behind it, watching it begin delicately eating its food before moving to the next kennel. You’d been working at Pets 4 Vets for a while now, and you felt thoroughly at home amid a great group of coworkers and an even better assortment of animals from every corner of the galaxy. They were all either in the process or finished with their training to be emotional support animals for the veterans who had served the Republic so well. You’d been a little unsure around the clones at first, not having spent any time with them before this, but they’d grown on you quite a bit and you’d been amazed at the complexity and individuality of each one. You’d also developed a knack for pairing them with animals, although it still took a few tries at times. 

“Good morning, tookas,” you said warmly as you slid the food bowl into the next crate, watching the two loth-cats eye it lazily from where they were curled around each other in the corner. They were a bonded pair, and last summer they had surprised the entire staff with a full litter of the most adorable babies you’d ever seen, who had since grown and been placed into loving homes. None of you had been too eager to see the parents leave, however, and it just so happened that none of the troopers so far had been the ideal match for them. The two of them roamed the clinic during the day, curling up near computer terminals or gracing guests in the lobby with their tails high in the air. At night, all the animals were tucked into their cozy kennels until morning, when they’d be fed and let out into their various programs for the day. Some had hours of training, others enjoyed free time inside or out, and some simply spent as much time as possible shadowing the clinic staff. 

“I wish I got breakfast in bed,” you murmured as you closed their door, watching the loth-cats yawn and nuzzle one another. You felt a deep sense of longing in your chest, and moved to the next cage to try to keep your mind from continuing on its current trajectory. But it was a lost cause. “Wish I had someone to wake up next to as well,” you continued. The dating scene hadn’t been kind to you, and if you were honest, you’d pretty much given up. Your friends urged you to keep the dream alive, to go on double dates with them and to meet the various eligible bachelors they knew, but nothing felt like a good fit. You assumed the problem was with you. And that was alright. You were happy enough on your own…you said. The clinic staff was a tightly-knit group, for the most part, and you authentically loved the animals. You felt fulfilled by the unconditional love you shared with each one, and you were so proud at the growth you got to witness as they went through training. 

The horde was fed, each one was released to its daily duty, and you began to clean all of the kennels, wondering if you should take your friend up on her offer to check out 79s. It felt completely out of your comfort zone, however. Not because of the clones, but you just generally weren’t a fan of loud, raucous environments, and you weren’t much of a drinker… So it didn’t seem like a very attractive prospect. As much as you were mocked for it, you weren’t really keen on one night stands, nor were you good at “keeping it casual”. You wanted a relationship with depth and longevity. Sometimes you wondered if the taunts about you were correct, that you had in fact watched too many cheesy holofilms and now had an unrealistic view of romance. 

Whatever.

A few hours of cleaning were followed by an hour or so at your computer, reviewing and categorizing the new applications. You didn’t realize you’d been completely hunched the entire time, your back rounded as you tapped away at the keys, and would have remained blissfully unaware if the receptionist hadn’t commented on it as soon as she popped in. 

“Geez, you look like a shrimp,” she laughed, dropping a data card on your desk. 

“You’re a bit of a cod yourself,” you teased, and she giggled, swatting your arm. “What’s this?”

“A new app. I was gonna bring him back here in person but he said he had lots of ‘big important stuff’ to do.” She rolled her eyes. “Quite the cocky one. He didn’t want to go through the interview process because he ‘knew what he wanted and it was a big dog’.” A chuckle followed the words as they both nodded. They were familiar with the type.

“Did you tell him he has to do an interview if he wants anything at all?”

“Yup. Said you’d contact him.”

“Lucky me.”

“Thought you might like a challenge. It’s been quiet for you lately,” she grinned.

“Considerate as always,” you smiled right back. 

“Have some fun with him. He could use someone taking him down a peg or two. Although I thought I could see the remnant of a black eye, so maybe someone already tried. He’s a big boy, too.” A suggestive wink.

“Oh boy. Can’t wait.”

Next Chapter

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Jesse’s leg jiggled incessantly in his flimsy plastic chair in the reception area. He fidgeted with his fingers for a bit, then sat back, crossing them across his chest and lifting his chin. You swung open the door, datapad in hand, and scanned the empty room, stifling a grin at the fact that he nearly took up the entire corner. He was indeed “a big boy”, and his thin t-shirt made no attempt to conceal that fact. The giant Republic cog tattooed across his face and head was quite the statement, too. Resuming your businesslike manner, you invited him to follow you.

His eyes roved around your office as the door closed behind the two of you, the large window that made up the upper half allowing you to see people passing by outside. You felt a flicker of self-consciousness that surprised you as the faintest of smiles ghosted across his face at the sight of the many knick-knacks, memorabilia, and images that filled your walls. Past and present animals, with and without their owners, were peppered between what seemed like everything you had ever loved. But why should you care what some random trooper thought? You cleared your throat. 

“So… You’re looking for a large dog ‘or something equally badass’?” you asked, reading off your datapad. 

“Yeah,” he said, simultaneously proud yet a little unsure at his answer now that he heard it read back to him. “I just thought it’d be… nice. I’ve heard good stuff. Brothers seem to like their pets.”

“Many of them do, yes,” you agreed. 

“At least the ones that can’t land a girl,” he scoffed, laughing and nodding at you as though you’d wholeheartedly agree. You didn’t, and stared at him for a moment before deciding to let that one go. 

“The process might sound extensive, but the animals actually have a lot of nuance and personality, so we like to get to know our clients as well as possible so that we can find the best fit.”

“Ugh. You and the matchmaking people,” he blurted, pressing his lips together immediately. You realized he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Now you were torn about calling him out on it or not. Maybe feel him out a bit more first. 

“Yes, it is essentially matchmaking,” you grinned. “Many of these animals will be with you for a good portion of your life, so they do become a beloved partner in a way. Just don’t have sex with them.”

He guffawed so loudly he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes large at the unrefined sound he’d just made. You couldn’t resist a chuckle at that one yourself. You did have a bawdy sense of humor at times, but it wasn’t always received well, so his laughter was a bit gratifying. 

“Just need to be clear on everything from the start,” you continued. He was trying and failing to arrange his features into the confident mask he’d worn through the door. You were surprised to find it endearing. But no time for that. “So… tell me about yourself. Your lifestyle. Your personality. Your priorities.”

“Kriff, that’s a lot. I mean… I was a soldier, obviously. Did a lot of wild and awesome things,” he grinned. Ah, back in his element. “Basically saved the galaxy. You know. You can show your gratitude in a variety of ways if you feel so inclined.” He ran a head over his bald head, leaning back to manspread a bit more on the other side of your desk. 

You didn’t know what to say, but apparently your face said it all.

“Anyway…” He coughed, then continued. “Now I’m apparently just a regular old person with a job and an apartment and a whole exciting life ahead of me…” A flicker of something crossed his face; you weren’t sure what it was, but you were suddenly quite intrigued. He moved on quickly, however. “So nowadays I work as a personal trainer at Dwight Schrute’s Gym for Muscles. Mostly afternoon and evening shifts. Cause I like to sleep in… After long nights, you know? Ahah.”

“I bet,” you murmured, swiping on the datapad screen. 

“I can tell you’re impressed,” he chuckled. You stared at him for a moment, unable to tell if he were being serious or not. “It’s okay, it happens to everyone.” Gods above, he was being serious. 

“I am… quite stunned,” you said, meaning every word. 

“Well don’t worry, I’ll pick you up if you faint.” 

“Mm. Thanks.”

“Nothing any hero wouldn’t do.”

“Naturally.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

You looked up, taken off guard. Why would anyone be asking about your side of things? You were suspicious. “Nothing too exciting. I work here. Annnnd that’s about it. So you’d say you’re pretty active… Are you able to get outdoors a lot? If a pet needed a decent amount of exercise? Considering your sleep schedule, a crepuscular animal might be a good fit.”

“No crabs, lady,” he said, shaking his head and putting both hands in the air. “I’ve avoided those all my life and I’m not about to start now.” 

“Crabs?” you echoed, confused for a moment before it dawned on you. “Oh… Not crustaceous,” you clarified, biting back a giggle. “Crepuscular means animals that are most active in the twilight hours, so dawn or dusk. I suppose you’re not up early, but you mentioned a roommate? If they were able to give it a little attention in the early hours, you’d be on evening duty.”

“Alright,” he nodded, toning it down a bit. “I thought Massiffs were daytime animals though.” 

“They are. I don’t think that would be the best fit for you, though.”

He looked affronted, “You think you know me already?” A flash of a grin, both cocky and insecure.

“No,” you smiled. “But I know our animals, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading vibes.” 

“Vibes?” he echoed, making no attempt to hide the condescension in his voice. 

“Energy, personality, whatever you want to call it. I’m good at pairing.”

“Ah, so you must have an amazing boyfriend then, eh?” he jabbed, unaware of the territory he was wandering into. The sharp look on your face gave him some clue, though, so he tried to correct. “Er, girlfriend? A theydey or gentlethem?” Then he gasped, forcing a conspiratorial look onto his face. “Is it even human?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absolute ridiculousness. Where did he get the audacity? He was probably expecting you to be overwhelmed or impressed or have some kind of diminutive response. But that wasn’t quite what you were feeling at the moment. 

“Actually,” you said, imitating his tone, “it’s a rancor.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, only this time it was authentic delight and surprise instead of the cocky little “ahah”s you’d been getting so far. You were grinning without meaning to, momentarily pleased by the awe on his face. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, wagging a finger at you. “So you like it freaky.”

“I actually haven’t been on a decent date in over a year now,” you deadpanned, relishing the shock that replaced his swagger. He legitimately didn’t know what to do with that, and that felt wildly satisfying. “Anyway, that’s all I really need for today. The receptionist will book your next appointment on your way out.”

He was too speechless to craft any sort of cocky response as he shuffled out of the room. 

* * * 

“This place is LOUD!” you yelled to your friend over the music. You’d finally caved at her incessant requests to go to 79s, and after hours of fretting over what to wear and how to do your hair, since you were mostly used to work attire and a ponytail, you were there. You’d opted for a simple black dress but had left your hair down since you wouldn’t be surrounded by animals for a change, although your friend had laughed and said that’s exactly what you’d be surrounded by. 

“You’ll get used to it!” she yelled back, waving enthusiastically at a table of troopers that she apparently seemed to be familiar with. A few of them howled back, beckoning her over, but she pointed at the bar first, and a few of them pushed past one another to meet her there. It was odd to see them all gathered in one place without their armor. Since the Clone Rights and Personhood Act had passed, they had no need for anything other than civilian clothing anymore, but it was still unique to see so many people with the same face. Granted, they all had their own unique style and approach to individuality, but you just weren’t used to all of it quite yet. 

Your friend dragged you to the bar counter along with the troopers, each one wearing a different t-shirt over some plain jeans, and the flirting began immediately. You stood behind the group, squinting to try to make out what was on the menu. The choices were fairly slim… a couple of cocktails or some very watered-down beer, or so you’d heard. Maybe you’d just stick with water tonight. 

Or so you thought.

Two hours later, you were completely drunk, having given in to multiple offers of drinks and dances, and your face was flushed red from the thrill of it all. It was quite unlike you, but you didn’t care. The troopers were adorable and endearing, and you were having an absolute blast learning so many names, dancing like a crazy person, and enjoying the shenanigans of the rowdy bunch. A naval officer currently had his hands on your hips, a gleeful grin on his face as the two of you rocked to the music. You’d been self conscious at first about dancing for all of two minutes, but the clones didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to have fun, and you’d quickly found yourself caught up in the joy of it all. 

You were tiring quickly though, having danced for almost an hour straight, and you thanked your partner before heading off to the side, leaning against the wall and fanning yourself for a minute. Touching your hands to your cheeks, you giggled at how hot they were. You felt so pleasantly bubbly, just a little dizzy, warm and fuzzy inside, and absolutely delighted with anything and everything. 

“Well well well. Didn’t expect to see you here.” A clone had appeared at your side, immediately recognizable by the giant Republic cog tattoo across his face. 

“Jesse!” you yelled, flinging your arms open and throwing yourself at him for a hug. He stepped back, surprised, and lightly touched your back before you pulled back to regard him fondly. “This place is great!!” 

He chuckled, eyebrows furrowed at the shocking departure from what he’d seen of your personality at the animal shelter. “Yeah, I mean… You alright?” he tilted his head as you giggled, smacking his chest playfully. 

“SO GOOD!” you squawked, hand sliding up to his shoulder, then down his arm. You gave it a squeeze, then dropped your hand. “Damn, lookin good, trooper. What are you doing?”

“Just… hanging out,” he grinned. “You lookin for some fun?” 

“I seem to have found it!” You waggled your eyebrows, stepping closer and toying with his waist. “This place is great!”

“Yeah, you said that,” he laughed. “Want to dance?”

“Hellz to the yeah!” And you started dancing right there, swinging your hair around like your life depended on it.

“Wow… Okay… Let’s get you some water first,” he suggested, now torn between concern and delight.

“Water is for boglings!” you squawked, grabbing his hand and doing your best to drag him to the dance floor. But he was significantly larger than you, and he tugged you right back. You collided with his broad chest and looked up at him indignantly. 

“Water first,” he insisted, tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, swatting at his hand. “But fine... if it means I get to grind on those juicy thighs!”

“Deal,” he grinned. 

You gulped down the pathetic cup of water he’d been able to wrangle from the bartender, then the two of you hit the dance floor. Whether it was all the pent-up energy you’d choked down from your disappointing dates or just the sheer intoxication of… well… being intoxicated, you were happy to let loose. Jesse was smooth and strong all at once, hands growing heavier on your body as you writhed against him, and you reached an arm up to cup the back of his neck. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your neck, and hot fireworks exploded throughout your core as you continued to sway together. 

“Want to get out of here?” you yelled, turning around to face him and gliding your hands down his front. Your hair was scattered across your shoulders, cheeks bright red on either side of a dumb grin, and he swallowed. His gaze darkened for a moment, and he pulled you a little closer, cupping your face and meeting your eyes with undeniable desire. But he looked at you for a moment longer, and his shoulders slumped a tiny bit. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“No, I meant to bang!” you pressed, laughing in complete disregard.

“I know...” he chuckled, taking your arm and steering you toward the door. "I know."

* * * 

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a sick stomach. You sank your face into your hands, groaning at your desk as you tried to read the datapad with bleary eyes. Only a few appointments today, thank the Maker. Cleaning the animal kennels had nearly made you throw up, so a quiet day of desk work was about all you could handle before crawling back home to your bed. Your friend who'd taken you to 79s had commed you far too early in the morning, gleefully informing you that you’d been “off the hook”, and while you’d dreaded the answer to your the question you had for her, she’d assured you that you’d messaged her upon arriving at home and that you went to bed alone. 

Whatever else had happened, you couldn’t remember. At least you didn’t have to get tested for "crepusculars", you chuckled to yourself. 

A light knock on your door rang loudly in your ears, and you squinted through your window at the receptionist, who was waving with far too bright a smile for the ungodly hour of 10am. She jerked her head behind her, giving you a not-too-subtle thumbs up as she opened your door and ushered in the cocky clone from a couple days ago. Something about him looked different though… Your wracked your brain but came up with nothing other than an unsettled feeling. Maybe you’d had a dirty dream about him… it wouldn’t be the first time some random client had popped up while you slept. Either way, you felt your cheeks redden slightly as he stepped into your office, the door closing behind him. Only when he sat in the chair on the other side of your desk did you notice that he had two smoothies in his hands, one of which he slid across to you. 

“Good morning,” he grinned, and your stomach dropped as you realized he seemed to know something you didn’t. 

“Morning…” you said suspiciously, taking the smoothie and inspecting it before looking back at him. “What’s this?”

“It’s a lil somethin from the gym I work at… All kinds of healthy crap in it… But it’s supposedly great for hangovers.”

You stared, heart sinking in your chest. What had you done…

“So,” he continued briskly, all business and innocence. “What’s the next step? Meeting some animals today?” 

“Yes…” you said slowly, entirely unsure of how to move on. You were kicking yourself for having been so careless… You were never the type to drink so much that you couldn’t remember. But you’d felt safe and had been so buoyed by the infectious atmosphere… Regardless, there was work to be done, and you turned to your datapad to avoid his eyes. “There are a few different options that I had in mind after reviewing your file…”

“Is that what you call it…” he murmured, causing you to jerk your head up so fast that it throbbed. You winced, rubbing your temples and taking a sip of the smoothie. It was surprisingly refreshing, and you took a few more gulps, staring at him skeptically. 

“Alright,” you snapped, equally indignant and resigned. “Out with it.”

“With what?” His angelic smile made your heart skip a beat, which further added to your confusion. 

“Whatever you’re gloating about.” 

“You just seem so… professional in here…” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his own smoothie before putting it down with a flourish. 

“And…?”

“And a little more laid back when you were grinding on me like your life depended on it last night.”

You were stunned into silence, mouth falling open a little bit as you stared at him, speechless. You couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even your type. Plus, you doubt he would have let you go home alone if you’d done what he was accusing you of. 

“You’re lying.”

“Mmkay,” he shrugged. Somehow that made you even more incensed. 

“So what else happened?” you challenged, lifting your chin a little bit. 

“Drinks and dancing. You really like to fling your hair around,” he chuckled. “Then I walked you home.”

“And?” you squinted. 

“And that’s it. You said you could make it up to your apartment. Did you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved that your report to your friend had been accurate. But it struck you as odd. Wouldn’t he be the type to take advantage of your momentary lapse in judgment? 

“But if you still want to ‘bang’, as you put it, I’d be happy to oblige.” He folded his arms behind his head, showing off his muscles and arching an eyebrow at you, unfazed by your grimace and audible groan. 

“Did I really say that?” You didn’t even really want to know the answer. 

“Mhm. Didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

“Kriff,” you muttered under your breath. Why did it have to be him? Of all the troopers in that Maker-forsaken bar… This was beyond repair. “I’m gonna have my colleague Tosak take your case,” you said suddenly, rising to your feet and grabbing your datapad. “He’ll be able to pick up where we left off and you should be able to take your animal home by the end of the week.”

“Wait, why?” Jesse stood up quickly, dropping the cocky facade immediately. 

“You expect me to be professional after that?” 

“No,” he answered bluntly, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Exactly,” you sighed, the flicker of a smile touching your cheeks. “It’ll be better this way.” You slipped out the door, once again leaving him in your office, mouth slightly open with a million different things to say.

Next Chapter

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

PLUS adorable fanart of Jesse and his service animal Pookie (LOL) by the illustrious @arcsimper5

If you're familiar with my work, you know that my style is warm and fuzzy, humorous, idiots in love, first kiss, love confessions, yearning satisfied, and old love sweetness. So, if you fancy a Pets 4 Vets ficlet along those lines, send in a request with the following:

The clone of your choice from the 501st, the Bad Batch, Howzer, or Gregor

The general gist of it or the trope you'd like (if you're super duper specific I'm gonna lovingly encourage you to write it yourself, LOL)

SFW or NSFW

Bonus points if you choose an animal or any other specifics from this incredibly handy list that Pineapple made! And please note, ficlets will follow the submission guidelines. 💕

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