Summary: At a Senate Gala, Obi-Wan finally listens to his former padawan's gentle nudges to tell you how he feels.
Note: happy halloween everyone! for the past two years i've ended fictober with a fic set during a halloween party, but i suppose this year a galactic senate ball will have to do.
Obi-Wan Kenobi Masterlist
Obi-Wan watched from across the room as you spoke with other Senators in attendance, taking small sips of the drink in your hand as you listened. While he was not at this particular function to protect you (as you had a personal security detail already made up of decorated officers and personnel from your home planet), he had practically appointed himself to the job.
It was no secret that Obi-Wan disliked politicians, and he could barely contain his distaste the Chancellor, who the Jedi worked with on a regular basis. There were some he respected, that he saw making positive changes for the better, such as Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, but there were truly only two people who he trusted unconditionally out of the entire Galactic Senate: Padmé Amidala and you.
He trusted Padmé with his life because she had saved it on multiple occasions before, and he had seen the way she fought for those who needed it. And while you were someone who also embodied the above traits and who had worked with on many occasions in the past, there was another reason that separated you from the rest of those who served their respective planets and systems; he was in love with you.
To him, he was hiding the latter part quite well, but to others, his affections were about as stealthy as a excited Gundark in a china shop. “You’re staring again,” his (former) padawan’s voice pulled Obi-Wan from his thoughts, and he turned to see Anakin looking at him with an expression he had certainly seen before. “When are you going to admit the fact that you’re in love?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes flashed. “Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “And secondly, as I’ve told you many times before, I am not in love.”
Anakin, as usual, did not buy it. “So what reason do you have to explain the fact that you have been gazing at the Correllian Senator for the entire time we’ve been here?”
“I do not gaze, Anakin.”
“You’re right, I think what you’ve been doing should actually be categorized as obsessive staring,” Anakin laughed. “Come on Master, I’m shocked that the Senator herself hasn’t seen it.”
“Even if I did have feelings for her, I would not be able to act on them,” Obi-Wan said out of the corner of his mouth. It was the closest he would ever get to admitting to Anakin that his theories were right.
His padawan opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it, pausing for another moment before actually speaking. “Things are changing, Obi-Wan, especially with the war,” Anakin said. “Don’t lock away your feelings.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, mentally choosing not to question what these potential changes may be to the Jedi Order, this was not the time for it. He simply bid Anakin goodbye for the time being and left the gala’s main ballroom with the intention of getting some air.
Coruscant was beautiful at night, and Obi-Wan stared up at the sky as passing speeders lit up common pathways. Below him was the bustle of the city, and the Jedi Temple wasn’t far away. Anakin’s words had cut into him more than he wanted to admit, and he found himself imagining for a moment what things might be like if the Code was structured differently.
The door behind him opened, and Obi-Wan whirled around to see you. “Master Kenobi, I apologize for intruding,” you said as you stepped outside.
“It’s never an intrusion,” he said. “I was simply surprised, that’s all. What do you need?”
You shook your head. “A break from in there,” you said. “I wasn’t looking for you specifically, though I am glad I found you.”
“Small talk does grow tiring after a while,” Obi-Wan agreed.
“Especially when it’s with people you have no interest in speaking with,” you responded. “I wish to go home.”
“I can accompany you,” he said. “We can simply say you are unwell a-”
“As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I can’t,” you said. “This gala is too important to simply sneak away from, so a small break out here will have to do.”
The two of you stood next to each other and stared out at Coruscant, comfortable silence descending over the space.
When your hand found his and your head rested on his shoulder, Obi-Wan felt as though his skin had been lit aflame, and he refused to speak, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“I wish things were simpler,” you said softly. “That we did not have these lofty duties to attend to.”
“I agree,” Obi-Wan said. In another life, he would have certainly liked to marry you, no worries of the council and no fear of danger in the Senate.
You turned to look at him, and before anything else could be said, you leaned up to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I know you cannot return my feelings,” you said as you pulled your hand back. “But I think I might have died if I had not done that just once.”
Obi-Wan reached out and clasped his hand around the one you had just pulled. “According to the Code I cannot, but I am afraid that I failed that aspect of being a Jedi long ago, from the moment I first met you.” You smiled. “I cannot promise an easy life, or a public relationship, but I would be lying through my teeth if I said that I didn’t want to kiss you again.”
“I don’t think I’d be able to promise those things either,” you breathed, the two of you within kissing distance once more. “If you’d be willing to give this a chance, I am too.”
Obi-Wan leaned in to place his lips on yours, this kiss much more slow and passionate than the one you had placed on him before. His hands found their way to your waist and he did nothing but relish in the intoxicating feelings that accompanied the kiss. “I want to give this a chance,” he breathed when the two of you had to finally pull apart for air.
Maybe it would come crashing down in the future, but the look on your face was worth the risk you were both taking.
The only regret he had right now was the fact that he would have to inevitably tell Anakin that he was right this whole time.
- the end -
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Summary: Commander Cody has a reputation for honor, duty, and focus, which makes it all the more entertaining when he falls head over heels for a visiting bounty hunter.
Note: i think this is my favorite of this year’s fictober fics! i wrote this imagining a reader character who is very strong/buff (the image in my head for her frame is that of norman rockwell’s depiction of rosie the riveter, if that makes sense)
Clone Troopers Masterlist
There was a figure that Cody didn’t recognize in the training room as he stepped inside, and his interest was certainly piqued by the crowd of vode standing around, everyone cheering and laughing. Some of the 501st had joined up with the 212th for a joint mission, and Cody walked over to Rex, who was sagely sitting in a corner and watching the exuberance across the room. “What’s going on?”
“Jesse’s sparring with a bounty hunter,” Rex said with a tired edge to his voice, as though this was not the first time this had happened before.
“A bounty hunter?”
Rex nodded. “She’s a friend of Skywalker’s, and he calls her in to help out every once in a while when things get a little too difficult for his liking. Unfortunately for me, she doesn’t follow rules very well, and it certainly doesn’t help that all my men are enamored with her.”
Cody craned his neck, trying to get a better glimpse of the matchup through the crowd of clones. “Who’s winning?”
The moment he finished speaking, the sound of plastoid armor hitting the padded floor filled the space, and a chorus of laughs and teasing came from the troopers on the sideline. “Take a guess,” Rex deadpanned, and Cody couldn’t help but laugh as his brother’s expression. “I’m just glad they finally wised up and stopped allowing the use of weapons in these matches. I thought we were going to have to run out of bacta before something changed.”
He still couldn’t see you too well, but he heard your voice as you called for another challenger, and Cody watched as someone else stepped up to fulfill your request. Turning back to Rex, he smiled. “Is this a regular occurrence?”
The captain nodded. “Yeah, and Fives is about to get his shebs handed to him.”
Cody could hear the trash talk from across the room, and it was clear that whoever you were, you were more than comfortable with the troopers in blue.
“You think you can handle me, mesh’la?”
“You said that last time babe, and you ended up with a busted lip.”
“At least I wasn’t busted elsewhere, if you know what I mean.”
“Just shut up and lunge at me.”
Laughter filled the room as the action began, and Cody couldn’t help but continually glance over, hoping to get a better look at you.
To Fives’ credit, he appeared to put up a good fight, but it was clear who won when Cody once again heard armor being slammed against the floor. “Kriff me,” Fives groaned.
You laughed, a bright, joyful sound that carried across the room. “At least buy a girl dinner first.”
Finally, the throng of people cleared, and Cody’s breath actually caught in his throat for a moment when he finally got a look at the tournament’s victor. The look on your face was one of savage pride as you laughed with his brothers and jokingly flexed, the crowd of onlookers cheering the whole time. With a strong frame and clearly in possession of a lot of strength, it was clear that you were a terror to anyone who made the mistake of opposing you.
He may not have realized that he was staring for a little too long, but Rex certainly did. “Caught your interest?”
“What?”
Rex laughed. “Stop staring like a lovesick tooka and go talk to her,” he said. “I think she’d like you actually, with your whole ‘good behavior’ vibe. It’s endearing to people like that, who have never followed a rule in their entire lives.”
Annoyed that Rex had managed to clock his feelings so quickly, Cody tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’m not staring.”
“Yeah, and Hardcase is the Chancellor of the Republic,” he said.
Cody was about to bite back, but held his tongue as he realized that you were walking over to him. “Hey Rex,” you said, stealing the canteen of water from his hands and taking a swig. “Who’s the newbie?”
“The marshal commander of the GAR,” Rex responded, not even bothering to comment on his stolen water.
You smiled at Cody as you took another sip, and he couldn’t help but stare at the droplet of water than escaped out the side of your mouth and traced down your neck. “Maybe you’ll be a challenge for me, I haven’t had a fair fight in ages.”
Cody’s eyes widened as he tried to find the words to respond.
You just laughed, clearly enjoying the fact that you had him so timid. “You’re cute,” you said, reaching out and running a hand over his cheek before pulling it away. “If you ever want to get some training in, let me know.”
You were gone before another word could be uttered (thanks the to comm device in your pocket indicating a call), and Rex broke out in laughter as Cody tried to recover. “Close your mouth vod, you’ll catch something.”
Cody glowered, shooting his brother a death glare as he desperately tried to ignore the fact that the feeling of your fingertips on his skin had practically set him on fire. “Shut up.”
- the end -
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Summary: As Davy Jones, you oversaw the journey drowned souls took to the Great Beyond. It was just your luck that you would fall for the Pirate King of the high seas with three years left still in your first cycle of service.
Note: i personally like the idea that "davy jones" as a concept is something like a job title, so that's kind of the vibe here for the reader.
Elizabeth Swann Masterlist
From the moment you met her, you knew that Elizabeth Swann was different.
Well, for one thing, she was alive, but it was more than that. The two of you held paralleling positions on the high seas, as Pirate King and Davy Jones, though your rule extended over the realm of the dead, those who taken their final breath over the open ocean.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
It all began when you noticed her among the waves, her waterlogged clothes starting to pull her body down into the depths of inky blackness, but her strength (some combination of pure determination and sheer spite) kept her afloat in a way that many others would never be able to harness. It was a lapse in judgment that you threw her a rope, and she immediately accepted your aid.
The moment she stood on the decks of the Flying Dutchman, her sword was out, pointed directly at you. “What are you doing?”
You raised your eyebrows at her. “This is my job,” you said, waving out towards the parade of boats floating atop the waves and the barnacle-encrusted decks of the ship (a side effect of the fact that this ship in particular spends a lot of time underwater). “What are you doing?”
Her eyes widened as she recognized the ship, and you realized who it was that you had helped at the same moment. Her (and her crew) had trifled with the man who held your position prior, who took the name Davy Jones and made it his in every aspect, whereas you treated the moniker as more of an occupation than an identity.
This was the pirate king, the feared and revered Elizabeth Swann.
Her eyes hardened. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Now that was a cry you had heard many times before. “I don’t decide who lives and dies,” you said. “I just oversee the ferrying of the unlucky.”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said, a desperate edge to her voice.
People didn’t like the idea of dying, and you had certainly heard begs and pleas by those who foolishly believed that they could be brought back to the land of the living if they bargained with or tricked you. But even though Elizabeth was singing the same song, you believed her. Maybe it was partially informed by the fact that you found her attractive, but you pushed those thoughts away from the forefront of your mind.
It was against the code of this position to get involved, you knew that when you assumed the role. Despite having killed in the name of revenge, taken the life of the man who killed your former lover, you never descended into the rampant rage others thought you might. The power you had gained was fragile if not handled with care, and you wanted to remain in the good graces of the forces that be.
Despite every instinct in your body telling you to turn away, to not engage with Elizabeth or her plight, you didn’t listen. “I can’t send you back there,” you said softly. “You would either have to find your own way, or become a member of my crew.”
You watched as she visibly considered it. “Would you let me leave as a member of the crew?”
“You would be bound by duty to the Dutchman, to aid in my role of ferrying the deceased between the lands of living and dead,” you said. “I would not be able to sanction your leave. “ You hoped that she could catch on to the undercurrent beneath your words, that if she escaped from your ship, you would not track her down.
With no indication that she understood the true weight of your words, Elizabeth nodded. “And if I left the decks of the Dutchman now?”
“These waters are much more obscured than you think, you would not be able to find your way back to the place you seek without a tremendous amount of luck.”
“I suppose I have no choice then,” she sighed. “But to hope that purgatory is kinder than damnation.”
You held out your hand for her to shake, and for the first time in many years, you felt the warmth of another against your skin.
***
You were certainly being selfish when you said that you didn’t want Elizabeth to leave. After spending nearly seven years with nothing but the ghosts of the damned (those who crewed your ship no longer took the grotesque forms they previously had, but rather appeared in a spectral form) and the expressionless shock of the the newly dead, it was nice to have another by your side.
The path between life and death was much more easily traversed by your ship, but it would still take several days, and you passed the time by speaking to Elizabeth. You learned about her family and the entire reason that she and her friend Will had gotten involved in piracy in the first place, an often-ridiculous (but also effective) pirate by the name of Jack Sparrow.
“I know that name,” you said. “I believe he still owes service to the ship that I’ll collect after his death.”Elizabeth smiled, telling you that you might have a hard time catching him to do that (which you did already know, based off what you heard about this man in particular).
As the two of you sat on the deck and stared out at the placid night sky, she turned to you. “Are you dead?”
“In order to walk this path as often as I do and to have the knowledge that I posses, I am both alive and dead at the same time,” you said. “To the rest of the world I am a ghost, even though when I walk on land I am living.”
“And you can only do that once every ten years.”
You nodded. “I still have three years left before I can even consider taking that day though.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
Cocking your head, you had to stop to think about the question before speaking. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t have a beloved on land to visit, but I still would like to take the time allotted to me.”
“I would too, if I were you,” she said, before the conversation shifted gently in other directions, such as her role as the Pirate King of the seas. The two of you really were connected, your duties reflective of both the lands of life and death, and you wanted to believe that maybe your meeting was a deliberate act of fate.
By the time you made it back to the land of the living, you felt as though you knew Elizabeth well, and your initial attraction to her had blossomed into full grown feelings. Each day you wondered whether or not she would escape from the Dutchman in the middle of the night, and one day you stepped up to the deck of the ship to find that thing you were dreading had indeed come to pass.
There was a piece of parchment nailed to the central mast of the ship, and a note scrawled on it in a beautiful hand that could only be hers.
As much as a part of me wanted to stay, I must attend to my duties elsewhere. The voyage between life and death is certainly in good hands, and as the Pirate King I hope to send some your way who deserve much less than the kindness you’ll treat them with. Thank you for all your aid, and I’ll keep a steady eye on the horizon, where sometimes I believe I can catch a glimpse of your ship as it performs its ghastly duties.
Elizabeth Swann
There was a postscript at the bottom that you didn’t catch right away, written much smaller than the rest of the letter.
In three years from now, down to the very day, I’ll be in Tortuga. I’d certainly appreciate your company, if you were inclined to take that as your day on land.
You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as you read it. It was highly unlikely that you would run into her sooner without some great luck on your side, but you had no problem holding on to that hope. And even if that particular wish didn’t come to pass, if seeing her every ten years was a tradition you continued, maybe all you did and all you saw was truly worth the trouble.
- the end -
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Summary: After an injury forces you to the sidelines for this mission, you spend all your time wishing your girlfriend would be home soon.
Carol Danvers Masterlist
You stared nervously at your phone, but no messages were coming in. The photo of you and your girlfriend set as your background stared back at you, a feeble attempt to get you to stop worrying about what might be happening out there.
You never went on missions without her. The two of you were always a package deal, and every single person in the compound knew it. But after a leg injury on your last assignment sidelined you for longer than you’d thought was necessary, you were stuck sitting around in the empty rooms as your friends and allies braved the dangerous world of espionage without you, and you had no idea what was happening.
You had pitched some kind of strategy role when you started to feel better, but it was shot down. Hell, you would have even served as the getaway driver if someone had given you the keys to the Quinjet. But the fact of the matter was that you were still not truly well enough to put your body in any more high-stress situations, no matter how much you wanted to ignore that. So for now, you had to be content in waiting for the team to return.
There was nothing good on TV, there was nothing you wanted to do, there wasn’t even any music you wanted to listen to. Nothing in the world could take your mind off the fact that you were waiting for your team (and more importantly, your girlfriend) to return. The feeling was akin to that of watching paint dry, and on more than one occasion you had just stared at the screen of your phone for extended periods of time, hoping that something would flash and catch your attention, but nothing worked.
Sleep was your greatest ally in this time, but even then you found yourself worrying. The mission wasn’t even a particularly dangerous one, and the most likely scenario was that everyone would return fully intact and exuberantly successful, but it was the fact that you weren’t there that stung.
As a joke, you tossed a small ball against the wall, trying to get it to bounce back to you. This place might as well have been a prison anyway, your (overreactive) brain said.
Your eyes widened as they took in the rumble of the hangar bay opening, and you knew that your boredom was about to be over.
If your doctor had seen how fast you pulled your body off the couch and began to sprint (well, as much as you were able) down to where the rest of the team was arriving, you would likely be on the receiving end of a lecture. But you didn’t care; Carol was home, and you wanted to see her.
The moment you burst through the door into the hangar bay, you locked eyes with her, and immediately the two of you ran towards each other. She was much faster than you were though, because the point where you met was much closer to the door than it was the ship. Her arms wrapped around your body, and you breathed deeply as you returned the hug, never wanting to let go. She smelled slightly sweaty and there was some dirt on her suit, but none of that mattered right now.
When she finally pulled back from the hug, there was a smirk on her face. “Did you miss me?”
Playfully, you rolled your eyes. “Oh shut up.”
Her arms wrapped around you once more as the two of you laughed, and she leaned in for a kiss. It wasn’t graceful or picturesque, but the two of you poured every ounce of emotion you had into it, and you were sure your smile could be felt on her lips.
When you finally broke apart, you could hear playful teasing from the others. “Alright you two, we get it, you’re happy!”
“Yeah, get a room!”
You turned back towards your teammates with a smile on your face and jokingly stuck your tongue out at them.
“Gladly!” Carol called out as she took your hand and began to lead you inside.
Slightly confused, you looked over at her. “Don’t you still have stuff to unpack?”
Carol just shrugged, a scheming smile on her face. “They can handle it. And besides, I’m just following previous instructions.”
You leaned in to kiss her once more on the cheek before continuing to head inside, the grin on your face a mile wide. This day may have started out terrible, but things were definitely looking up.
- the end -
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Summary: Injuries on the battlefield lead to a quiet moment between lovers.
Anakin Skywalker Masterlist
This was how it ended, you supposed, lying on the wet ground and feeling the cold start to seep through your clothes. The blaster wounds in your legs and abdomen had hit the most inconvenient places, because not only were they incredibly painful but they had also immediately removed you from the battle. And with no active combatants around, the blaster you loosely gripped while sprawled on the soil was downright useless.
You could hear the sound of the battle raging across the woods, but your comm device had been knocked from your grip, now resting too far away for you to grab it. This is what you get for volunteering to act as the perimeter spy, despite the fact that you were not usually a talented sniper. Thankfully all the nearby battle and commando droids had been called to meet the 501st in combat, so there weren’t any more enemies for you to worry about.
If you could just get to the comm, you could reach out to Rex, tell them the situation and plead for a transport to take you back to the Resolute. The med-droids and clone medics there might be able to take care of you before it was too late, if you could make the call in time.
If the battalion had to make a hot exit, would they even remember you?
No, it was no use thinking like that. Determined to at least try to contact your allies, you heaved a sigh as you pushed your arms forward, trying to move closer to the comm. What followed would not be pretty, but it might just mark the difference between life and death, so you were willing to make the sacrifice.
Dragging your body forward like a baby rancor, you used every ounce of available strength. The muddy ground of this planet made things a little more difficult, but you persisted, a determined look on your face as more mud caked the cloth of your Republic-issued uniform.
Would the dirt stop the bleeding, or would it just make things worse?
You caught one of your wounds on a particularly sharp rock, and a whispered swear left your mouth as tears welled in your eyes. Blinking them back, there was nothing you could do but move forward with slightly more caution.
You really needed to put in some kind of official recommendation that all personnel carry some kind of emergency medkit on their person, because it sure would have been useful right now.
When you finally reached the device, you knew that if you couldn’t reach anyone, that you would have to remain here. With everything you had, you pushed the button and tried to reach out.
Maker, your wounds hurt.
“-ex!” your voice cracked as you spoke for the first time in a while. “Come in, Captain!”
Thankfully it connected, because you could hear the telltale sounds of blaster shots and what you believed to be lightsaber movement in the background. “Yes? What is it?”
His voice was cutting in and out, and you hoped that he was able to hear your full message. “In the forest to the east,” you said, gasping as the pain suddenly flared up. “I got hit, can’t move.”
Thankfully, it seemed that the captain understood what you were trying to say, even though his voice completely cut out halfway through. “Send your coordinates! No, we’ll track-”
When you tried to hit the button to comm him again, nothing went through. Resting back with your head against the cold, wet ground and fighting to keep your eyes open, you knew there was nothing left to do at this point but hope.
As the world began to leave your focus and your eyes began to close, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a lightsaber moving through the air, and someone’s voice as warm hands rested on your face.
***
When you first opened your eyes, the immediate brightness had you momentarily wondering if you truly were dead. Your mind felt fuzzy and unfocused, and it seemed as though your surroundings were swaying back and forth for a good couple moments.
However, as the medbay of the Resolute came into focus, you were grateful you weren’t actually dead, because that would have been a real inconvenience.
Still sluggish and tired, you could feel pressure at the sites of the blaster burns, and the injury on your abdomen brought a dull stinging pain to the forefront of your mind, likely the results of whatever anti-septic they had used to clean your wounds.
Picking your head up, you could see Anakin asleep, sitting on one of the (very uncomfortable) chairs they kept here, his head slumped over and resting on the side of your bed as he snored. His eyes flew open the moment you shifted, and he didn’t even check to see if anyone was around before he had thrown his arms around you.
“Anakin!” you hissed as his lips made contact with your forehead. “What if someone’s looking?” Despite the fact that he’s the one at risk if your romance was discovered, he never seemed to be the one worried about getting caught.
“I don’t care if some droids see,” he said, reaching down to take your hand in his. “I thought I lost you.”
“I also thought I was a goner,” you admitted.
Anakin’s arms pulled you into another hug, and you selfishly initiated a quick kiss with your lover. Despite the battle that had just been fought, the medbay was surprisingly empty, void of even the clone medics you had come to be friends with in your time on the flagship.
“You’re so strong,” he whispered, pressing kisses in quick succession to your forehead. “But I never want you to leave my sight again.”
You laughed, even though it came out more like a croak the first time around. “I think we’d have a harder time hiding things if that happened.”
“I don’t care,” he said, and the smile that crossed his face clued you in to the fact that he was joking. “Half my men already know about us.”
“What?” Your eyes were wide as you pulled slightly away from him.
“Relax, they’re not going to say anything,” he reassured you. “If we ever wanted to get away for a couple rotations, I think we’d have an entire team of operatives covering for us.”
You breathed a sigh of relief as you smiled. You had been working with the 501st for quite some time now, and you’d be lying if you said they hadn’t wormed their way into your heart. “I could do with a vacation.”
Anakin laughed as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. “Once you get better, then we’ll do some planning.”
Your eyes started to droop as you spoke, likely from whatever kind of painkiller the droids had administered to you when you were out. “What about a beach? Or-” you dozed off in the middle of the sentence.
When the medbay was filled with nothing but the sound of your soft snores, Anakin just smiled as he kissed your forehead one last time. He needed to make some plans, and none of them had to do with battles or strategies.
- the end -
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Summary: After years on your own, you join up with a more organized sect of the growing rebellion against the Empire. You just didn't expect to be greeted by an old flame when you arrived.
Note: obviously there's some canon divergence here, but i love the idea of rebel!padme. fun fact, this was the first fic i wrote for fictober this year :)
Padmé Amidala Masterlist
You were tired of looking over your shoulder, tired of running and never feeling as though you were safe enough to stop. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see the steely gaze of your clone commander, one of your most trusted confidants and a powerful ally, as he raised his blaster and pointed it at your head.
Now, after narrowly escaping with your life, you were all alone in the galaxy. A powerful wave of grief swelled through the Force, and you knew deep down that your fellow Jedi had likely experienced the same thing you had, but that many of them had not been lucky enough to escape.
Corellia was not where you wanted to be, but you had to refuel and restock the meager rations you kept on hand. Your lightsaber was strapped to your leg underneath a bulky cloak, and you made efforts to hide your appearance to anyone that might recognize you. There was no telling who you could trust anymore, and you weaved through the crowds with your head down.
Then you saw her, and your breath caught for a moment.
Dressed in more tactical attire than you usually saw her in, Padmé Amidala’s hand hovered over the blaster strapped to her belt. Her back was towards you, so you could see her hair swept back in a simple bun, all of the fancy embellishments and styles that she wore when working for the Republic Senate gone.
Ducking into an alley, you had to take a moment to calm yourself. Of all the people from your old life, why did it have to be her that was here? You might have been able to think more rationally if it were any other senator, but your actions had never been well thought out when Padmé was involved.
A memory flashed in your mind, of your lips locked with hers in a Coruscanti apartment, your most valuable secret and the person you cared most about in the entire galaxy. You had always thought that the Jedi Order finding out about your tryst would be the end of it, not the crumbling the Galactic Republic and the execution of those who you considered your family.
Maker, you wished that things were different. But it simply wasn’t worth risking your life to find out if your former lover was going to try and kill you or not.
Once you were sure she was gone, you collected the rest of your rations and wasted no time leaving the planet, the whole time wishing you hadn’t been served such a cruel reminder of what you lost.
***
Now, a few standard years later, a more organized rebellion had popped up, recruiting through whispers and glances. The Empire’s power had grown exponentially since the “end” of the Clone War, but a more dangerous conflict had simply replaced what you knew. You wanted to join those who had committed to making the galaxy a better place, to bring back the qualities of life that the Jedi and the Senate had spent so much time fighting for.
Even now, worry built in your stomach as you maneuvered the ship towards the coordinates you had been sent. This would be the first time you worked with others in a long time, and you would have to adjust to not only trusting people but also living around them.
A voice crackled over the ship’s communicator, and you gave the landing code.
“Noted,” the voice over the comm responded. “Someone will be down to meet you at the site.”
The planet that housed the primary base was nice, with a lush green forest and a clear blue sky, and the air was cool as you stepped out from your ship to see two figures in the distance. And as you got closer, your mouth dropped open, because you recognized them.
Mon Mothma looked as regal as ever in her signature white robes, and she gave you a kind smile as you stepped closer. Looking at her was almost made you feel like no time had passed, as if the Republic still stood and the Senate was still in session, even though her eyes looked a little more tired than the last time you saw her.
The other was Padmé, and she wasted no time pulling you into a hug. “I thought you were dead,” she said as you melted into her touch. It had been so long since you spoke to another person beyond transactions at an open air market, and you had forgotten how good she smelled.
“And I thought you were evil,” you responded as the two of you separated, and you could see her face shift a little at your remark. You gestured to the clothes she wore, much more tactical than Mon Mothma’s, and almost entirely black in color, save for pink socks peeking out over durasteel-toed boots. “I saw you, a little while ago on Corellia,” you clarified.
“Ah,” she said. “We were still in the early stages of recruitment then. None of this became possible until very recently, but there were many people out there looking to fight back against the Empire. Come, let me show you to your new quarters.”
Mon Mothma left the two of you alone once you stepped inside the base, and you felt Padmé slip her hand into yours. Once the doors to your room had closed, she pulled you close once more. “I didn’t know it was you who would be joining us,” she said. “I think Mon left that information out on purpose, or I would have offered you a place in my room. If that’s something you were still interested in.”
You smiled, catching the trepidation in her voice. So much time had passed since you were last together, and the galaxy had changed so much, you didn’t blame her for wondering if she had overstepped. “Is that something that can still be arranged?” you asked softly, reaching out to hold her face in your hands. “If you’ll have me, of course.”
Instead of responding, Padmé leaned in, and your lips met in gentle passion. This was something you had been dreaming about for so long, it didn’t feel real to finally have it again. Her hands found their way to your waist, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.
As you pulled apart, the grin on your face only grew. “I suppose I can take that as a yes,” you said.
“There isn’t a galaxy out there in which I would say no,” was her response. “Because I’m never leaving your side again.”
The future was dangerous, there was no doubt about that. But right now, you couldn’t help but feel that things would be okay.
- the end -
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Summary: Jesse's crush on one of the singers at 79's isn't hard to miss, and it just so happens that she likes him too.
Clone Troopers Masterlist
A chorus of groans echoed through the room moments after Jesse suggested that they go to 79’s that night. They all knew why he wanted to go, and it had nothing to do with the drinks.
“You do know your girlfriend won’t be there, right?” Fives asked, laying back on his bunk. “It’s karaoke night, she’s probably off.”
Jesse already did a terrible job at hiding the wicked crush he had on one of the bar’s rotating musical acts, but this time he didn’t even catch himself before speaking. “What? No, she’ll be there, it’s Zhellday.”
Kix smiled at his brother’s pining. They had been introduced to you on multiple occasions and you always made a point to say hello whenever you saw them, so it made sense why his batchmate was so smitten. Jesse was definitely not the only clone in the GAR with a case of lovesickness though, but Kix never elected to point that fact out when the opportunity presented itself (and it had, on multiple occasions).
Echo looked up from the datapad he had previously been working on. “Why would they pay her to be there when the entertainment of the evening is going to be made up of whatever di’kuts are drunk enough to take the stage?”
“It won’t be the whole night though,” Jesse pointed out. “They usually turn off the karaoke machine a couple hours in.”
“Yeah, once the staff can’t handle any more,” Hardcase said. “We all have the same voice, how is it possible that some of us can be so bad at singing, while others sound perfect?”
A collective shudder went through the group as they remembered the last time they went to karaoke night at 79’s, where a group of shinies failed so spectacularly at carrying a tune that people were actually getting up and leaving. And since all this had come after an angel voiced medic belted out a catchy song with his name in the title, it was a little more embarrassing for those troopers than it might have been if they followed another act.
Jesse stood there as he stared at his brothers. In his heart he knew that he was right, and that you would indeed be there this evening, whether you were performing or not. “Want to make a bet of it?” he asked. “Ten credits says she’s there.”
Fives shrugged. “I’ll take that bet,” he said. “It’s not like we had any other ideas of where to go tonight.”
***
Much to Jesse’s dismay, it seemed like his brothers were right. By the time they had arrived at 79’s the karaoke machine was already out, and some members of the Wolfpack were currently on the stage, showing off their (surprisingly good) rendition of the galaxy’s current top hit. Jesse scanned the crowd of people, and though not everyone here was a clone, he didn’t find what he was looking for. He would never admit it, but not seeing you put a damper on the night he wasn’t sure he could remove, and it wasn’t even about the fact that he was now ten credits poorer.
Sitting in the 501st’s empty booth and nursing a drink that had surely been watered down, Jesse was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t really notice anyone sit down next to him, not until you said his name.
What happened next was not his finest moment, as he almost dropped his drink and then forgot how to talk. “You’re here,” he finally managed to stutter out, a look of surprise surely on his face. In the face of danger he was able to make quick decisions and react accordingly in record time, but apparently all that went out the window when it came to you.
You smiled, and Jesse immediately tried to commit that image to memory. “I am,” you said. “You sound shocked.”
“We had guessed you wouldn’t be here,” was his quick response. “You know, because it’s karaoke night.” If he was trying in any way to sound cool, this was not helping.
“You were kind of right,” you said. “I’m not here in an official sense, but I happen to like it here, so I stopped by to see some karaoke in action.”
“Really?” Jesse gesturing up to the stage, where a 327th trooper’s voice was cracking with every other lyric. “Do you regret it yet?”
The laugh that came from you was heavenly, Jesse decided in that moment. And it would have been the best thing he’d ever experienced, had he not seen your smile grow at the same time. “I think my ears will sooner or later,” you said. “But you’ve been pretty good company so far.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” he said. “Most of my brothers won’t come back or sit down until they want to leave.”
Much to his surprise (and delight), you stayed. Past conversations with you had always been easy, despite how the butterflies he felt every time you looked his way. But this time it was only him you were speaking to, rather than sharing some pleasantries with the entire company as you passed by their table between your sets. Now, he had you all to himself, even if it would be for the briefest of moments.
Jesse could see fatigue on your face as your head began to droop, and when the first yawn exited your mouth, he was already moving to get out of the booth. “Let me walk you home.”
You shook your head, stifling another yawn at the same time. “No, you don’t have to.”
“Please,” he said. “I want to make sure you get there safe.”
You didn’t argue any more, and Jesse sent a quick communication to his brothers that he was leaving early and would see them the next day. He didn’t mention the reason that he had left, but he figured that the whole battalion already knew who he had spent most of his time tonight with, so it didn’t really matter. They would tease him tomorrow about it anyway, no matter what happened.
Your apartment was close by, and the two of you walked side by side through the chilly night air. Jesse was growing tired too, and by the time you were pulling a key from your pocket and unlocking your door, he certainly was feeling the urge to yawn.
“Thank you,” you said sincerely, turning around as the door creaked open. “Seriously.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Maker, he was so close to you right now, it was more intoxicating than the liquor he had already consumed. He really wanted to kiss you, and the weirdly awkward moment where the two of you stared at each other was doing nothing to counteract that desire.
As you leaned in, he mirrored your movements, and when your lips grazed his cheek, it felt like he was dreaming. “Wait,” he breathed, right as you were about to pull away. “May I?”
He would have elaborated, but it was clear you were thinking the same thing. He didn’t even move to close the gap between you before your lips were on his, and Jesse’s brain stopped working at that moment. His hands instinctively moved to your hips as he poured every bit of emotion into the kiss.
He was just glad that this hadn’t happened in the bar, because the teasing from his brothers would have been absolutely relentless. At least now, he could try to keep this new development to himself (even though the dopey smile he couldn’t wipe off his face would most definitely give him away).
Whatever his brothers would say was absolutely worth the embarrassment though, that he knew for sure.
- the end -
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