#mae killough

[legacygirlingreen]

Do I want to know... || Captain Rex x OC! Mae

Author's Note: Hi friends! This is coming off the back of the Friend Date (found HERE). I promised they'd return... I am truly so excited for this one. It's been sitting in my drive for over 6 months now, just waiting for the right moment... As always the lovely art is by @leenathegreengirl - also note its in the middle of the text this time not at the end. I am still bad about a tag list so I may do an interest post for that semi soon again to get everyone round up who wants to be included. Anyways, enjoy friends and until next time ~ M

Summary: Following the aftermath of nearly closing that distance, Rex is back to having his walls high. Higher than ever. But will one fragile moment cause them to come crumbling down finally? Or are this pair doomed to forever stay, two ships passing in the night?

Pairing: Captain Rex x OFC! Mae

Word Count: 15k+

Warnings: Suggestive, recommended 18+, DEEP longing (it's giving Mr. Darcy levels of pining if I am honest)

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Rex was used to always pushing past injuries. Broken ribs? No problem. Twisted ankle? He’d be fine. Minor stab wound? He could stitch it later. Honestly the last time he truly remembered being sidelined was Salecumi. So the temperate, not to mention empty home on Pabu, was quite out of the ordinary for him. 

His first visit to the island brought about a very interesting discovery in the form of the resident doctor. Crazy red hair. Boisterous laugh that somewhat reminded him of Jesse. Wide eyes that sometimes appeared silver and other times appeared as blue as the sky above. Her dedication to the work she did was truly unmatched, and her ability to make him unwind was startling to say the least. Having not intended to fall asleep the moment they both sat down next to one another, Rex was shocked when a few hours later he awoke to a dark house, with a blanket tossed over not just himself but also the weight against his shoulder. Slumped over and sound asleep, with red hair hiding her face from view, laid Mae. Knowing that she hadn’t slept in days while carefully delivering a natural born child, he hadn’t had it in his heart to wake her up. Falling back asleep himself, only to have hazy memories of an apology a few hours later whispered in his ear before he woke up the next morning alone. 

Not to mention the following day, when he’d been dragged by the others down to the ocean, he’d only get met with more of a surprise in the fact that she was already there, far out on the water engaging in some sort of water sport he’d never seen. Standing up on the water atop a large board, moving her body with an ease he’d not expected until she quite literally jumped over the back of the rolling wave and disappeared. And when she came to greet the others, she’d offered to show him how to try with an encouraging smile.

What surprised him most was how easily he let her small hand grasp his wrist, pulling him into the water beside her. They laughed as she playfully pushed his shoulders down, trying to correct his stiff posture. Impressed by the balance required for this activity, he did his best to keep up. Even more unexpected than indulging in such a carefree pastime was how much he enjoyed the intimate lesson in what she called surfing, despite his clumsy attempts.

The way she had sent him off that morning stayed with him—placing that beautiful shard of glass around his neck, a gift he still wore, months later. It was a silent reminder of what they'd both endured and how, despite everything, they'd emerged stronger, transformed by their experiences. He had overcome the fear of her past to see her for who she truly was—and he had been grateful every day for it.

Not to mention the way he'd so irrationally rushed from his post to be there for her in that chaotic friend date. It was the embodiment of everything he actively worked to suppress. And that kiss? Would've happened had Wolffe not made an untimely appearance.

A significant turn of events had been Echo and Aiko’s whirlwind wedding. It wasn’t long after he’d met Mae that his friend chose to marry the empath, compelling Rex to take another break for the celebrations. That night was filled with drinks, laughter, and more dancing than he’d ever imagined himself doing—culminating in a surprisingly memorable conclusion that lingered in his thoughts long after.

That had been a few months ago. Since then, he would occasionally drop by to share a meal with Mae and the newlyweds before heading back out. On rare occasions, he’d stay the night but always felt hesitant about overstaying his welcome, despite their insistence that his company was appreciated. Rex had his routines and habits, and he wasn’t quite ready to alter them for the sake of settling down. He liked to wake after a consistent amount of sleep each rotation and donned his armor in the same way—starting from the lower half and working his way up, aware that mobility became more restrictive as he encased himself in plastoid.

He never let more than two days pass without shaving the stubble accumulating on his upper lip and chin, spending a similar amount of time in the refresher, where cleanliness was his only goal. Two cups of caf in the morning, no more, no less. Nights were spent double-checking manuals or reports, maintaining records purely for his own convenience. Routine was practical, a thread of normalcy in a world that felt increasingly unpredictable. He rarely deviated from his schedule, but lately, he made an effort to send a transmission each day to the pretty physician on Pabu.

During long flights through deep space, he found himself captivated by her knack for weaving words that brought a smile to his face. More often than not, she could elicit a laugh from him, whether recalling something amusing his Vod had done or sharing stories from her day. When frustration weighed him down, her reassuring words reminded him that brighter days were ahead. It was remarkable how someone so positive could emerge from such a dark and tumultuous background.

Despite the unsettling revelations about her upbringing, he was surprised to learn that her biological family was a notorious crime syndicate known for their violent tendencies. It was difficult to reconcile the image of such a sweet, gentle, and selfless woman with the environment in which she was raised. Yet it was clear that she possessed an unwavering moral compass, guiding her to escape and never look back. This understanding unfolded as they exchanged their stories, deepening their connection.

Zygerria - the time her father killed a servant of hers simply to remove her only friend.

Rishi moon outpost - when she’d been captured by a rival family. 

The assault on Kamino - her father’s third wedding that ended in bloodshed. 

The citadel - when she’d lost her dearest advisor under mysterious circumstances. 

Fives - finding out that her father had killed innocent children of a rival. 

Umbara - when her younger sister tried to poison her for no rhyme or reason. 

Order 66 - when her father discovered the protector they’d hired for her had become her lover and they’d disposed of him before promising her to a much older man.

She had witnessed far too much, and from a young age. The more Rex learned about the horrors she had faced, the more impressed he became. With each story he shared, she responded with a level of care and compassion that mirrored what he would expect from someone who had experienced the turmoil of Ryloth firsthand. Through her understanding, he began to feel less like a captain and more like a man.

He could never fault Anakin. Having such a close connection to the former Jedi meant he was privy to the man’s deepest secret—his private relationship with a senator—and Rex never took that bond for granted. The same could be said for Ahsoka. He had watched her evolve from a spirited child fighting a war to a shattered, disgraced Jedi, one of the last of her kind. Both held a special place in his heart, as they respected him in ways he hadn’t expected. They had entrusted him with their lives and secrets, a bond unique between clones and Jedi. Yet, despite their shared experiences, he always felt his primary role was that of their captain.

The same applied to the Batch and even Echo at times, who viewed him as a soldier still on a mission. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for perpetuating that narrative. Most of them had moved on, leaving their lives as soldiers or mercenaries behind, and it showed in the bright smiles and warmth they exuded. But Rex felt a strong sense of duty to the clones he couldn’t save, and so he clung to his routine. Being seen as the trooper he had always been was a valid assumption, yet Mae’s unique way of addressing him purely as a man was a breath of fresh air.

Perhaps being acutely aware that, by design, he was not unique—recognizing that it was his actions that set him apart—made him feel different from natural-borns. Genetically speaking, they were unique. Every clone, whether they admitted it or not, was on a quest to forge their own destiny, more than ever before. To be their own man. To find someone who made them feel at ease, as if they were the most special person in an army of millions. However, it was very hard for him to shake that sense of purpose. 

Rex was a soldier, forged for battle from the moment he was born. Even with the freedom to choose another path, the call to fulfill his designed purpose grew stronger, an undeniable force he continued to be unable to ignore.

While he had grown comfortable with the doctor, that ease didn’t extend to feeling at home in her space while he healed. Grumbling the whole way, he fought as Echo and the others dragged him into the clinic, the throbbing in his right arm intensifying with time. He’d been shot and patched up just enough to make it back to the island, his arm hanging limply at his side as he watched the sweet expression on the doctor’s face shift from eagerness to concern. Before he knew it, she had him on the examination table, ready to put her skills to work.

The diagnosis? Aggravated nerve damage. He recalled experiencing similar issues after being shot in the chest, but this felt far worse. Despite his unease at the shared worry from the group around him, even he couldn’t argue against the necessity of the short procedure she insisted on to properly repair his nerve system. Mae was efficient, and for the most part, the aftermath was as painless as could be expected given his broken arm, dislocated shoulder, and the small incisions in his back. He was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t felt more pain in the days that followed.

It had been over a week since then, and he found himself on enforced couch rest—enforced by Mae’s threats to both him and any clone who dared let him back into his armor before he was fully healed. Not wanting to test her resolve, and feeling the weight of his injury more than he cared to admit, he complied. He hunkered down in the spare room and on the sofa while she routinely checked on his progress each day, gradually settling into a new rhythm.

This routine brought with it hot showers and the soft glow of morning light reflecting off her blue eyes as they peeked out from behind a steaming cup of caf. He savored the slow pace of each day, with time to think and simply exist instead of rushing to the next obligation. There were late-night whispers tangled in her frizzy red curls, a comforting stillness he had never truly experienced before. Yet, as he lay awake at night, he struggled against the yearning to make this moment last forever.

It wasn't all sunshine, though. The frustration of not being able to use his dominant hand gnawed at him constantly. Getting dressed became a slow, cumbersome process as he navigated around the cast and stitches. More than that, it heightened the feeling of being a burden—a sensation he couldn’t shake off. He appreciated the care he received: adjusting pillows, checking if he was comfortable, and offering help when necessary. Yet, there remained a gap filled with discomfort when it came to asking for assistance with tasks that could ease his unease.

One of his latest sources of irritation was catching sight of himself in the mirror. Throughout the war, Rex had always managed to maintain his appearance—keeping his stubble in check and getting his haircut short every week. Growing up on Kamino with blond hair, especially as one of the first batches of clones, had made him acutely aware of his distinctiveness among his brothers. As he aged, it made him feel special to have a look that set him apart. His preference for practicality dictated his short hairstyle; it minimized the risk of hair sticking up and reduced perspiration inside his helmet. Less time in the shower and minimal maintenance suited him perfectly.

Now, however, he faced a new challenge. The inability to use his dominant hand meant he couldn't manage his hair, which had grown longer than he liked. It was past due for a trim when he got injured, and the additional healing time had only exacerbated the situation. The strands stuck up enough in the mornings that he worried he looked ridiculous—especially in front of a pretty doctor. The thought was utterly humiliating. But with Echo off-world and his reluctance to ask for help, he’d have to figure out how to cope with it.

She was later than usual—much later. The sun had already dipped below the horizon by the time the door finally swung open and Mae stumbled inside. Her normally light footfalls were slightly heavier, a subtle shift that didn’t escape his notice. From the sofa, he watched as exhaustion faded from her eyes the moment they landed on him, still awake and waiting. It felt wrong to sleep knowing the doctor was still working; someone needed to ensure she got home safely, especially since Aiko had moved out shortly after the wedding.

"You’re supposed to be resting," she said, her honeyed voice laced with mischief as she leaned against the wall, finger pointed at him playfully.

"I am resting," he replied matter-of-factly, gesturing to the holopad in his lap.

"It’s late. You should be asleep."

"So should you."

Her grin widened at his retort as she stepped closer, peering over his shoulder from behind the couch. 

"Says the man who’s working late as well," she scoffed, and he glanced up at her. With her glasses pushed back on her head and hair escaping its clip, she somehow managed to look beautiful even in her disheveled state.

"I hardly consider this working. Any reason you’re stumbling in so late?" he asked, hoping his tone didn’t come off as an interrogation. Fortunately, her response reassured him.

"Boating accident. Lots of concussions and stitches," Mae groaned, bending slightly to lean over the backrest beside him, finally letting the weight of her tired body ease off her feet.

“Everyone alright?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He knew Wrecker and Crosshair often took the boats out with the others.

“More or less. Although I’ll be making more than a few house calls in the next few days…” she replied, her blue eyes blinking at him with an exhausted look that felt like a punch to the gut. It might seem innocent to an outsider, but Rex understood it better than that—it was a look of frustration at one’s sense of duty.

“Aren’t you already doing that now?” he teased, gesturing to his arm in the sling.

“That’s different. It’s not exactly challenging to check up on my favorite patient,” she responded sweetly, pushing herself back to a standing position. Before he could retort, she added, “Which reminds me, I want to take a look at your arm, if that’s okay?”

“And what if I say no?” he quipped, eliciting a bright laugh from her that warmed his heart.

“Come on, hotshot. I’ll make it quick.” With a nod toward the room he’d been occupying, he decided it was best to comply. He stood as gracefully as he could, despite his arm being immobilized, and trailed behind her. The height difference still threw him off balance; it was almost comical how he glanced completely over the top of her head. Rex couldn’t help but wonder how so much spirit could fit into such a petite frame. He found himself worrying that her delicate features were affecting his focus, his thoughts drifting to how her small hands would feel against his larger ones.

With a flick of the light switch, Mae gestured for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and Rex kept his back to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her lowering her glasses onto her face in the mirror’s reflection. He remembered asking her why she wore them; she had explained that she struggled to see smaller details up close, opting for the frames despite their comical appearance. It was strange how, even after seeing similar glasses on Tech, he felt a rush of affection for how adorable they looked on her. The delicate wire outline made her eyes appear larger, and the thought distracted him enough that he jumped when she touched him.

She had never been shy about physical contact. From the way she leaned against him when they barely knew each other to how she pulled him into the water and adjusted his position to match hers, Mae was always comfortable in her movements. She would often brush her fingers against his when they shared caff or steady herself on his frame as she moved about her home, revealing a charming clumsiness. So, when her gentle hands lifted the back of his shirt, he closed his eyes, knowing she was inspecting the incision marks she’d made to check for infection.

“The bruising is almost completely gone, and the stitches look great. No external signs of further damage,” she said softly. “Can I see your arm?” 

He nodded, turning back around as she knelt down and carefully removed the sling. It fell limply to his side, still keeping the cast in place to support the broken bone.

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc? Give it to me straight,” Rex said, infusing false bravado into his tone for humor as she set down the sleeve of his shirt and gently tugged at his good shoulder to prompt him to turn. Rex complied, facing her fully.

“Hmm, it’s looking worse for wear, Trooper. We might need to cut it off,” she said, her tone artificially stern. Rex played into her attempt at humor as he gasped, instinctively clutching his bicep with his good hand.

“Cut it off, you say?” He forced the most sorrowful expression he could muster, tucking his chin down for effect. But Mae had other ideas. Gently, her soft fingers grasped his chin, tilting his face up to meet her gaze.

“Yes. You’re looking a bit scruffy, Cap. Doctor’s orders: it’s time to get rid of the beard.” As their eyes locked, Rex leaned back slightly, his own hand replacing hers as he brushed over the stubble she’d playfully teased him about. Deep down he knew she likely wasn’t bothered, and merely used it as a quip. He wasn’t sure about it, but like his unruly hair, he felt uncomfortable tackling it alone.

“Something wrong?” she asked, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. His eyes darted away, and she noticed the sudden disdain on his face, wondering if she had crossed a line.

“Not really,” he shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. His good hand left his jaw to run along the back of his neck and into his hair. Mae observed how the low light of the bathroom highlighted the golden strands. She had come to understand that while clones often shared similar traits, some, like Rex’s hair, stood out as more rare. There was something profoundly authentic about his short, blond fuzz that resonated with her; it had become a defining feature she associated with him alone. Yet, the sudden tension in the room made her wonder if she had inadvertently reminded him of a brother long gone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back as if his uncertainty had suddenly become contagious, spreading to her as well.

“No, it’s—you didn’t do anything wrong,” he replied, shaking his head indignantly.

“It certainly feels like I did,” she countered, arms crossed and looking down at him. Rex recognized the expression; he’d given it to countless shinnies over the years. It was that stern look born of genuine concern.

“You didn’t,” he insisted, still scratching the back of his neck.

“Then what is it?” Mae pressed, raising an eyebrow as she pushed her glasses back atop her head.

“Nothing important, that’s for sure,” he mumbled, glancing down at the floor and studying the frayed edges of the rug near the tub.

“How about you try me? What’s insignificant to some can be really important to others. Why not let me make that judgment myself?” Her offer was hard to refuse, especially with those pleading, pretty eyes looking back at him.

“It’s just annoying when it starts looking like that.” He gestured dismissively to his head, hoping to end the conversation while reassuring her that she hadn’t upset him, yet still avoiding any deeper explanation.

“Your facial hair?” she asked gently, taking a closer look in the soft light. It wasn’t outrageously overgrown—just a fine layer of short stubble, similar to the length he usually kept his hair, but darker, like his eyebrows. It didn’t look bad at all, just different. That’s why she had teased him; she was used to the clean-cut former captain.

“No, that’s not really a nuisance unless it's under my helmet,” Rex replied, feeling the movement as Mae lowered herself to sit beside him. He could feel her eyes wandering over his face, and his skin began to heat up. Unaccustomed to such scrutiny, he felt a pang of embarrassment at the thought that he might have drawn attention to his hair, especially if she hadn’t really noticed it before.

Ever the keen observer, she noticed the way the short hairs at the nape of his neck hung over his collar more than she had ever seen. Her scrutiny revealed a slightly overgrown version of his usual buzzcut, making it clear his hair was longer than he typically preferred. “You mean your hair,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes. I’ve always just handled it myself, but I can’t exactly do much like this,” he said, lifting his arm as best he could from the constraints of the sling. Confusion flickered across her features as she replied, “Oh, I thought—never mind.”

“You thought...?” 

“It was a silly thought.”

“What’s silly to some may be completely reasonable to others,” Rex echoed her earlier sentiment, prompting a soft chuckle from her.

“I can’t decide if I like that you’re repeating me or if I hate that you’re using my words against me. I just assumed Mr. Wields-Two-Pistols would be ambidextrous,” Mae said, her tone earnest. The laugh that burst from Rex’s throat told her he had taken it as a playful jab. Given the lighthearted shift, she found she could roll with it. The banter they shared had quickly become one of her favorite ways to pass the time.

“That’s fair. I’d say I’m pretty confident with my non-dominant hand,” he replied with a reassuring grin.

“But not confident enough to cut your hair,” she shot back.

“Not confident enough to cut my hair,” he echoed with a chuckle, nodding along. Mae simply hummed in response, her gaze flicking from the top of his head to his eyes and back again.

“You know, if you need help, all you have to do is ask. It’s really that simple,” she said, her tone earnest.

“You’ve done enough,” he replied, but she wasn’t convinced.

“But you’re clearly annoyed.”

“I’ll live,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t make sure my patients were comfortable while they heal?” she asked, her tone light but laced with sincerity.

“You’d be just that—a doctor, not a barber. And certainly not the one responsible for this mess,” he replied with mock sternness.

“So, you don’t want my help?” 

Did he? Rex hesitated. On one hand, he was genuinely frustrated not only with how it looked but also with the irritating feeling of hair brushing against his neck. He didn’t doubt her ability; it was hard to imagine her messing it up. Yet, on the other hand, he hated asking for help.

“I don’t expect you to—”

“I know you don’t expect it. I’m offering,” she interjected, her confidence shining through.

He sighed, meeting her gaze, filled with reassurance and eagerness. Despite how far this was from his usual comfort zone, a small part of him wanted to accept her offer. It was practical, yes, but also because he enjoyed the warmth of her hands.

“Do you even know how?” he asked.

“In theory,” she replied with a playful grin.

“That’s concerning,” he scoffed at her candidness, but he appreciated her honesty in admitting she wasn’t quite sure how to help—yet was willing to give it a shot anyway. “Bag’s on the sink,” he nodded toward the counter, eliciting a bright smile that revealed her white teeth.

“You really are going to let me help?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“As long as you’re careful,” he replied, knowing deep down that she would be. One thing he’d learned about Mae was her meticulous attention to detail. She seemed to remember everything he shared, retaining even the smallest moments and asking insightful questions later that confirmed her understanding. It was almost unsettling how naturally she absorbed information. Tech was the only other person he’d met with such a remarkable mind. In many ways, it was an incredibly attractive quality.

“Please, Captain, careful is my middle name.”

“Oh, sure it is, Miss Mae Careful,” he rolled his eyes. He still didn’t understand why natural-borns had so many names—one was more than enough, in his opinion. Anything beyond a first name and surname seemed excessive.

“Don’t be a smartass,” she warned, tossing the bag into his lap. He sifted through it with his good hand until he found the well-worn GAR trimmers, a replacement he’d acquired midway through the war. After double-checking that it was set to the right length, he held it out to her. Just as Mae’s fingers closed around it, he pulled it back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Against the grain. Even, firm strokes. Don’t push down too hard, but keep it flat. And go slow,” he instructed, locking eyes with her to ensure she understood. Her widened eyes reflected his seriousness as she nodded, extending her hand. Carefully, he placed the trimmers in her grasp. Rex trusted her—after all, it was the kind of task that was virtually impossible to mess up. Still, his heart raced.

“Question,” Mae said, and he nodded for her to continue. It made sense to address any concerns before they got started. “How do you keep the little hairs from falling down your collar?” She gently tugged at his shirt for emphasis.

“By not wearing a shirt,” Rex replied straightforwardly, then quickly added, “but that’s when I’m alone! I can just leave it on—”

“Rex, I’ve seen you without a shirt. Several times,” she giggled, looking down at him with amusement.

“Still,” he said, unsure how to finish.

“Still what?” she prompted, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I dunno, it just feels…”

“More intimate? Domestic? Exposing?” she teased. Though he wanted to laugh, there was an undeniable truth to her words.

“Something like that. But if you really don’t mind—”

“I don’t.” She set the trimmers back in his lap, then reached for the hem of his shirt, mirroring her earlier action. With care, she pulled it up, helping him slide out of it completely. As Rex’s head emerged, the fabric ruffled his hair, and she smiled at the playful disruption. Unable to resist, she gently brushed his hair back down, pleasantly surprised by how soft it felt. Never having touched him there before, even in jest, the moment felt surprisingly endearing.

At the gentle brush of her fingertips, he closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back slightly. He wasn’t entirely sure why it felt so nice—perhaps it was the simple act of being touched with such tenderness, or maybe it was just her touch itself that made all the difference. Whatever the reason, he found himself relaxing completely. He only peeked open his dark eyes when he heard her chuckling, her fingers still weaving through his hair.

“Something funny?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“You know, growing up, I had a lothcat, and even he didn’t purr this much,” Mae replied with a grin, withdrawing her hand to rest it on his shoulder.

“Felt nice,” he grunted, almost disappointed she had stopped, though relieved to know he wasn’t making a complete fool of himself.

“Of course it did. There are a lot of nerve endings at the base of hair follicles. Stimulation from an outside source often triggers the release of endorphins and other bonding chemicals,” she explained clinically. Yet, a part of him wondered if the connection between them added another layer to the sensation.

“Wouldn’t know. Not like we were braiding each other's hair in the barracks,” he said, snickering at the absurdity of the idea. Mae glanced back down at him, a hint of nervousness flickering in her eyes. Despite knowing it was a straightforward task in theory, she felt a twinge of anxiety about the possibility of messing up. She had earned his trust, but the thought of disappointing him loomed in her mind.

“Something wrong?” he asked, noticing how her eyes avoided his, flickering around the room with uncertainty.

“Just trying to work up the courage,” she admitted.

He held out the trimmer, hoping his confidence would help ease her nerves. To his surprise, she hesitated to take it from him. “What happened to Mae, ‘Careful is my middle name,’ from a few moments ago?”

“Hm?” She seemed to snap back to reality as she finally accepted the device, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Earlier, you claimed that careful was your middle name,” he reminded her with a teasing smile.

“Oh,” she replied, the word hanging in the air as silence enveloped them. He glanced around the still bathroom, taking in the low lighting and the fact that he sat there without a shirt, while she stood above him, exhaustion evident in her eyes. The weight of her apprehension made him feel guilty for even suggesting this.

“We can forget this and go to bed—”

“Pearl.”

“What?” 

“My middle name,” she whispered, leaning closer to get a better look at him. Her fingers brushed the skin of his neck, her gaze falling shyly downward instead of meeting his.

“Pearl?” he echoed softly, surprised. She nodded, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

“Actually, it’s less of a middle name and more of the alias I adopted when I first arrived on Coruscant. I was worried my family would find me, so I created a new identity. It felt wrong to abandon it, so I've sort of made it part of who I am,” she continued, her words spilling out as he looked up at her with a shy grin.

“Well, all we clones have are the names given to us by superiors or our brothers, since the longnecks just assigned us numbers,” he replied.

“I’m sorry for rambling on like this,” she said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her voice.

“Don’t apologize. I enjoy learning new things about you,” Rex reassured her. He couldn’t quite understand why they were having this conversation in the refresher at such an early hour, but there was a palpable energy in the air that intrigued him. Part of him felt excited by the moment, while another part was terrified of what it could mean.

“Is this the part where I admit I’m really scared of messing up?” she said, forcing out a nervous laugh.

“You won’t,” he assured her, gently placing his hand on her forearm for reassurance.

“But what if I do and you get mad at me—”

“I really don’t think I’m capable of getting mad at you,” he chuckled, only to realize the weight of his words in the sudden silence that followed. She lifted the clippers, breaking the tension.

“Alright, we’re doing this?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re sure—”

“I am.”

“Okay,” she said, staring at the device as if it might spring to life on its own.

“You know you have to turn it on, right?”

“I was getting there,” she replied with a sigh before following his cue.

“Just remember what I said.”

“Go with the grain, super fast and uneven,” she shot back sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“You’ll do fine, I promise. I trust you.”

“I just don’t trust myself,” she admitted, her voice laced with worry despite the largely dismissive tone.

“Come here,” he said, gently tugging on her free hand until she leaned down to meet his gaze, her other hand switching off the clippers. He reached up to pull her glasses from her hair and settle them back on her face, tucking a few stray curls behind her ears. “That’s better,” he added with a childish grin, suddenly aware of how close they were. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “This isn’t life or death, you know.”

“I know,” she replied.

“The sooner we finish, the sooner the island's prettiest doctor can get some beauty sleep,” he reminded her.

“But I already powered AZI down for the night,” Mae deadpanned, giving him one last look before turning the clippers back on. With one hand resting on his shoulder, she glanced up for guidance.

“You can start anywhere—the side, the back, the top. It really doesn’t matter,” he said, watching as she nodded and lifted the clippers near his forehead, her eyes locking onto his for a brief moment.

“Just go towards the back like this?” 

“Yep, it’s not difficult, I promise.”

“Okay,” she said at last, pressing the clippers against his forehead, the familiar hum resonating through him. As she glided them back, he closed his eyes to shield himself from the falling hairs. When the clippers reached the back of his crown, it paused. “Was that right?” Mae asked timidly, her voice laced with uncertainty. He raised a hand to feel the freshly cut section, leaning slightly to catch a glimpse in the mirror.

“Just like that. You’ll go up on the sides, but it’s the same all the way around. I told you it wasn’t hard,” he reassured her, still puzzled by her hesitation.

“Let’s wait until it’s finished to say that,” she mumbled, returning to her task as he sat patiently, trying to calm his racing heart. Strands of blond hair occasionally drifted onto his shoulders or upper back, and she would gently brush them away with her free hand. 

Suddenly, he felt her move closer, leaning in to inspect his hairline. Her fingers glided over his scalp. 

“Oh wow,” she murmured.

“What?” he asked, curious.

“It’s just really soft—almost like velvet,” she giggled.

“Thanks… I think?” he replied, slightly taken aback. Mae didn’t respond but returned to her standing position. Perhaps it was the sudden movement, but as she moved her stability faltered. Mae quickly reached to steady herself on his shoulder as he instinctively placed his good hand on her waist.

“You alright?” he asked, tilting his head up to meet her gaze.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she whispered, suddenly aware of just how close they were—noses nearly touching. Her fingers instinctively dug into his shoulder before she loosened her grip. “Sorry,” she added, realizing the added pressure might have hurt his shoulder.

“Don’t be,” he replied, his dark eyes softening at her concern.

“Okay.”

Time seemed to pause as he gazed up at her. Leaning slightly back, he couldn’t remember ever being this close to her before. He noticed a small white scar just below her bottom lip and eyelashes that were darker and thicker than he recalled. Her face was dusted with freckles, but some areas—like the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheekbones—had even more. The details sprang to life in a way he’d never noticed about anyone, especially not the lovely doctor who was touching him so tenderly.

As he continued to look at her, he suddenly realized that a few strands of his own hair had landed across the bridge of her nose, blending in with her freckles and appearing darker against her fair skin. Mortified, he felt a wave of embarrassment at the thought of his hair making its way onto her, especially since she still had more to do.

“Hold still,” he murmured, withdrawing his hand from her waist to gently cup her cheek. The humming of the machinery faded as she slid the lever off, plunging the room into a profound silence. The gasp that escaped her lips at his touch momentarily caught him off guard, but when she didn’t pull away, he let his fingers glide up the side of her face. Her skin felt softer than rose petals beneath his worn palm, and he lingered there for a heartbeat. With a gentle motion, he brushed a stray hair from her nose with his thumb, checking for any others. “I’ve made a mess of you,” he whispered, a soft chuckle escaping him as he met her gaze.

The lighting reflected off her frames, obscuring her eye’s true color, so with newfound courage, Rex pushed her glasses up and aside. After doing so he paused, taking in her eyes colors. 

Though her eyes were primarily a pale blue, a deeper hue circled the rims, giving them an intense sharpness. At times, they almost appeared silver, but now, he could distinguish every intricate detail. The near-white specks around her pupils, mingling with the subtle copper flecks scattered across her irises, were striking. He was intimately familiar with his own eyes—boring, brown, and unremarkable, the same as every other clone’s. But hers... hers were like the midday sky, a vast expanse of shifting clouds and beams of sunlight. The realization hit him with a rush as his gaze flicked back and forth between them, eager to absorb every nuance, every detail that beckoned to be explored.

“Don’t think blond suits me?” she teased, a hint of humor in her voice as he shook his head. He opened his mouth to respond but felt a catch in his throat, carefully clearing it before saying, “While I’m sure you’d still be beautiful, I must admit I’m partial to the red—” He punctuated his words by curling his index finger around a stray strand and giving it a gentle tug.

“Oh?” she gasped, her surprise lighting up her features.

“Absolutely,” Rex replied, running the curl through his fingers with a tenderness that mirrored her own as she began to trace her nails from his shoulder up the back of his neck. “Why’s that?” she asked softly, her gaze searching his.

As he looked deeper into her questioning eyes. There he was, feeling like all the restraint he normally had around her was slipping away. “It’s captivating. Fiery. It suits you,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“It suits you too,” she murmured, immediately blushing as she realized her mistake. “I mean, the blond. Your hair—it suits you. I—oh, I should probably finish what I started, shouldn’t I?” She laughed, recognizing the awkwardness of her slip. Rex couldn’t help but smile at her flustered state, feeling a warmth spread through him as she pushed herself back up. His hand dropped the single strand of her hair he had been holding.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he teased, glancing at the mirror and catching a glimpse of his half-cut hair, realizing he looked rather ridiculous.

“Well, someone distracted me,” she pointed out, stepping to his right before pausing to scrutinize him. “How does this work with your ears and your facial hair?”

“Oh, that’s a good question. You just go over the sideburns since they can be the same length,” he said, trailing off as he bent the top of his ear down out of the way. 

“Alright, and go up?” 

“You got it. You’re a natural,” he confirmed.

“I don’t know how transferable this skill is. I can’t imagine anyone else will come to me with this issue. Besides, your arm will heal soon, and you won’t need me anymore,” she said, following his instructions as she began to trim the sides. The loud hum in his ear made it difficult to hear her, so he remained silent, focusing on the moment.

As Mae carefully maneuvered around his left ear, Rex mulled over her words. He knew this was likely a one-time experience, yet he found it surprisingly pleasant. Sure, he felt a bit exposed, and there was a hint of awkwardness in her unfamiliar movements, but the atmosphere in the room felt charged. He’d never had the chance to be this close to her without it feeling intrusive. More than that, she had allowed him to touch her and offer compliments—this was the boldest he’d been with her yet. Her hands gliding through his hair felt divine, and he could definitely get used to that sensation.

“I could always have another accident,” he trailed off as he felt the trimmer graze the back of his neck. That spot always rattled around in his skull more than anywhere else, and even with his practiced hand, it was one of the trickier areas to reach on his own.

“Are you suggesting you’d intentionally hurt yourself just to get another awkward haircut from me?” Mae teased, letting out a small snort. “Could you look down a bit? It’s hard to see the back.”

“Yeah, I can,” he replied, pausing to comply before adding, “Maybe not intentionally hurt myself, but perhaps… ask for help… if that’s not too much to ask.”

“Hold on, I need to note the time and date—this sounds like Mr. Never Asks for Assistance Unless Under Duress is actually asking for MY help with a personal matter,” she teased, a playful glint in her eye. Rex was about to respond when he felt her fingertips gently lift his chin, drawing his gaze upward. The unexpected touch left him momentarily speechless as Mae, seemingly unaware of his stunned reaction, released his face and resumed her work as if nothing had happened.

He couldn’t recall the last time someone had touched him with such a confident yet delicate manner. Rex wasn’t sure if he adored the ease with which he had allowed the doctor into his personal space, but he could definitely feel the warmth rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Speaking of ears, she simply stroked the skin below his right one as she began with a soft “Do you mind-” and he reached up, bending it out of the way for her without a word. He could barely hear her hum over the grinding of the clippers near his head, but he just looked down at his lap just in time to see her step closer, balancing a knee on his thigh to stabilize herself a bit more. The movement, while mindless on her part, made him feel that warmth in his blood intensify. 

Rex had braced himself for her to notice his unmistakable flush, but when he dared a fleeting glance at her from the corner of his eye, he saw that she had stopped, her fingers grazing over the side of his temple. He knew the mark she was touching—felt its presence just beneath his hairline. She had seen similar scars before, having helped care for his brothers through the same procedure time and again.

"Everything okay?" Rex asked, his voice laced with concern as he noticed her pause, her fingers lingering a moment too long over the scar. The subtle surprise in her touch was enough to make him wonder what was going through her mind.

"Sorry," she murmured, her voice soft with a hint of guilt. "I just... forgot about it, with your hair being long enough to cover it." She resumed her task, her fingers gently pulling away from the silver scar that marred his temple.

But her words left a lingering weight in the air, one that Rex couldn’t shake. There was something odd about the way she had phrased it—an undercurrent of thoughtfulness he couldn’t quite place. The casual admission that she had "forgotten" about the scar meant she had, at some point, noticed it. She had observed it closely enough to remember its existence, even if it had slipped from her mind in recent days.

He knew, without a doubt, that she cared for him. The bond they’d forged was unique, complex, and at times, hard to define. He’d never been able to quite put into words what it all meant, but he felt it, nonetheless. He remembered the easy banter they shared when they first met, how it had come so naturally. Her honesty about her past had earned his respect, and he still kicked himself for nearly missing out on this camaraderie simply because he had assumed she’d be like her family. Every visit to Pabu had only deepened that connection, leaving him with the warmth of her presence long after he’d left.

Rex admired her strength, perhaps more than he let on. She was a civilian, yet she had thrown herself into danger without hesitation, stepping back only when she was injured herself. That kind of bravery was rare. Since then, she’d continued to work tirelessly, helping him and his brothers navigate the complicated transition from soldiers to civilians, guiding them into a life of retirement. The bond they shared had shifted from something fleeting, like ships passing in the night, to something more tethered, more solid—especially after he had given her that comlink.

He had assumed it would be used only on rare occasions, but instead, he found himself eagerly checking in on it every night, excited to hear from her. It felt a little juvenile, almost embarrassingly so, and it reminded him of the way his general had been when they went silent for days, disconnected from his secret wife. Now Rex understood that frustration. In his case, it wasn’t a secret wife, but a woman who had made a lasting impression on him, one whose teasing he found himself missing.

But there was something else—something more recent—that had started to nag at him. He wasn’t blind. He’d noticed her staring at him. Often. More often than he cared to admit, especially when he wasn’t looking, but he could feel her eyes on him, studying his movements, his features. Not that he was much better. He’d come to terms with the fact that, despite his best efforts, he found her incredibly attractive—something he’d promised himself not to let consume him again after that mistaken night in the fresher... But no matter how hard he tried to keep her at arm’s length, that attraction only seemed to grow stronger.

It was a sweet, torturous cycle, and he couldn’t help but feel both frustrated and exhilarated by it all. It was a kind of delightful torment, one he couldn’t seem to escape, no matter how hard he tried. It was-

“Rex?” Her concerned tone snapped him back to reality, and he realized he had zoned out and missed her initial question.

“Huh?” he responded, turning his head instinctively. Her eyes widened as she quickly pulled her hand back, avoiding his ear and face with the trimmer.

“I asked if you were seeing someone during the war,” she said.

“Oh. Uh…” he trailed off. Sure, there had been the occasional fling at the 79s. Most of his brothers had indulged in similar distractions to blow off steam. Sometimes, familiar faces at the club made it easier to slip away together, leaving with a curt “thank you” before heading back to the barracks for some sleep. But those encounters rarely provided much more than a name. Now, as he tried to recall those faces, they all blurred together. A pretty purple Twi’lek with gold lipstick, maybe? A hazy Pantoran woman whose playful bites left marks on his shoulders, which Fives had teased him about for weeks. There was even a Senator’s aide who had flashed him mischievous green eyes before opening the door to a linen closet while he waited for General Skywalker to hurry up. Yet if pressed for more than just fleeting details, he struggled to form a complete picture of any of them.

“Sorry, that was quite forward of me to ask. You don’t have to answer that. Sometimes when I’m really tired, I just blurt out things I shouldn’t,” she rushed out, stepping back slightly to examine her work. Rex would have double-checked her progress, but her question about his romantic history had startled him.

“Not really, no. Not regularly, anyway. Certainly not a real relationship,” he replied, his tone straightforward.

“I see. Not much time for others when you’re committed elsewhere,” Mae said, her tone hinting at a shared understanding.

“What about you?” Rex asked, watching as she reached up to brush stray hairs from his face. He took the opportunity to check the evenness of her work as she replied.

“Oh, I don’t usually draw that kind of attention, if you know what I mean.” Her laughter rang light and a bit forced, but anyone who looked closely could see the shadows in her eyes.

“No, I don’t know what you mean.” He was genuinely confused. Surely she wasn’t suggesting that she wasn’t beautiful? It felt wrong to think that she wasn’t the most striking woman at Echo’s wedding. Aiko was lovely—radiant, even—but Rex had spent the evening trailing behind Mae’s shock of red curls, mesmerized by the way her hips swayed beneath that vibrant, skin-tight dress. He had nearly lost his nerve several times.

Mae scoffed, bending slightly at the waist. As their gazes met, the deep blue of the sky mingled with the moonlit night, revealing the halo of lighter tones around the center of his amber eyes. “What happens now?” she asked softly, placing her palms gently against the sides of his temples to brush away the short blond hairs before letting them rest on his shoulders.

“Hold on, you’re changing the subject,” Rex called out, quickly recognizing her evasive body language—her gaze dropping and her fingers trembling slightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He gently pulled one of her hands down from his shoulder, taking it into his worn palm, trying to coax her to look up at him. “Mae,” he prompted, but she remained averted.

The only acknowledgment of his attempt came as a light hum escaped her lips while he moved his thumb along the soft skin of her hand. He was right in his assumption that her hands would be quite small in his own. “You are distractingly gorgeous,” he stated matter-of-factly, hoping his bluntness would convey his sincerity. Yet, she offered no response—not even a sigh or gasp. It was as if she had completely zoned out, her mind elsewhere. As she continued to gaze at his chest, Rex realized what had captured her attention.

His body bore the marks of years spent on the front lines—small scratches from reckless Jedi plans, fading into white lines that disrupted his tanned skin. But there was one scar that stood out, running through the center of his chest, a reminder of an impact though  shattered plastoid that had left a deep entry wound. It served as a constant reminder that just a few inches to the left could have ended his life. In a strange way, he took pride in that scar; it symbolized his survival.

Noticing that Mae may not have even registered his insistence on her captivating beauty, he decided to set that sensitive subject aside. Gently guiding her delicate hand against his, he pressed her palm flat against his own and simply said, “Salecumi.”

“I didn’t feel it was my place to ask,” Mae replied, her thumb absentmindedly tracing the warmth of his skin. She had seen scars like his before, finding them intriguing, especially since she bore a similar mark herself. However, it wasn’t something she would boast about, which is why she kept kicking herself for revealing it to him within an hour of their meeting.

“I’m not ashamed of it, if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Rex said.

“I wasn’t suggesting that. I just didn’t want to invade what might be personal for you.”

“You haven’t. In fact, I’m quite proud of that one, in some ways,” he admitted.

“Proud?” 

“Yes. It’s the closest call I’ve ever had. It shakes a man to face death so closely. I deal with the reality of it nearly every day, but for reasons I can’t quite explain, I had convinced myself it was distant. That shot reminded me just how lucky I am. It also introduced me to a fellow clone—a deserter named Cut, who had a family of his own. Back then, I thought so little of those who turned their backs on the Republic, but he taught me that where you place your loyalty defines you. I like to think I’ve come a long way since then. It’s one of the main reasons I fight—so that my brothers have the chance to find what he did, to discover love or peace if they desire it.” His heart pounded in his chest as he shared these thoughts, feelings he usually kept buried deep. Admitting them felt like a release.

“And what about you?” she asked, finally looking up at him.

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you deserve that too? To know peace? To be loved? To have a family if you choose?” Her voice was so tender and soft that he wanted to say yes, to admit that he had thought about it, that a part of him buried deep inside longed for it—and maybe she could be that for him. But doubt and guilt filled his mind, and he replied, “It doesn’t feel right for me to be happy until we’re all free to forge our own paths…”

Rex watched her as she contemplated his words, her lips parting occasionally as if she were about to speak, only to hesitate again, unsure of what to say. He braced himself for an argument, expecting her to dismiss his feelings as nonsense—just as Echo had when he broached the subject with him. Just as he was about to reassure her it was fine, she finally spoke. “If you decide that you deserve to be happy, I promise she’ll be a very lucky woman, Rex.”

“I don’t—”

“How could anyone help but love such a selfless man?” 

Rex had faced countless extraordinary moments over the years—wild missions with Jedi, encounters with eccentric locals on remote planets, the mischief the 501st often found themselves in, and witnessing every sin imaginable under the suns. Yet here he was, rendered speechless in the quiet of night by a beautiful redhead. Her hand trailed from the center of his chest until it hovered over his heart, quickening its pace. “Thank the maker that shot didn’t go through this big heart of yours,” she whispered, a sweet smile lighting her face. He nearly dropped her from his lap, momentarily forgetting how or when she had settled there.

The silence stretched between them, prompting Mae to slide off his lap without warning. Rex only realized time had passed when he glanced up to find her on her hands and knees, quietly gathering the hair trimmings into a neat pile. “I can clean this up,” he said after a moment. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave the conversation unresolved, but he genuinely didn’t know how to respond. 

He felt uncertain, unsure of how her comment had shifted his convictions, and he hadn’t had time to process the weight of her words. He had slipped into a state of shock, and by the time he was ready to emerge from it, Mae had moved on, as if to mask her own hurt by being productive. Rex didn’t want her to misinterpret his silence as rejection, but he lacked the words to reassure her, feeling lost in the moment. He was also distracted by the sight of her bent over, focused on her task.

“It’s okay, I don’t—”

“Hey—”

“I almost have it—”

“Mae—”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself—”

“Look at me—” At his insistence, she finally paused, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself as she shifted her weight to her heels, balancing there for a moment. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted, using his good hand to gesture between them.

“This?” she asked, her tone laced with confusion as she tucked her legs beneath her. Rex leaned back slightly, sensing her body language opening up, inviting him to clarify.

“I told you, I have no experience with relationships—only, well… relations,” he confessed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief as the words left his lips. Admitting it felt like a weight lifting from his chest. If it had been anyone else in the galaxy, he might have worried they wouldn’t grasp what he was trying to say. But somehow, with her, it felt different; she nodded in understanding.

“So you want this to be—”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” he groaned, raking his hand down his face, his fingers catching on the stubble. What kind of woman would sit around waiting for a man to make up his mind, especially one as talented and wonderful as she was?

“Hey, it’s not life or death, you know?” she replied, echoing his earlier words with a half-smile that was more forced than genuine, trying to coax him out of the metaphorical shell he’d retreated into.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean this—whatever it is—doesn’t matter to me. It really does. I don’t want you to think my hesitation means I don’t care,” he admitted. Mae sat quietly for a moment, absorbing his words. Eventually, she pushed herself off the ground, brushing the small hairs off her clothes before extending a hand toward him. 

Realizing she was encouraging him to stand, he took her hand as he rose to his feet, releasing it once he was upright. She stepped closer, her hand sliding up the length of his arm until it settled on his bicep, and he fell silent, caught in the moment.

“How about you take some time to think it over, and when you figure out where you stand, let me know?” she offered sweetly. Rex couldn’t quite fathom why the Maker continued to bless him so abundantly. He didn’t feel special enough to deserve someone as gentle and understanding as her, especially considering the confusion he brought into her life.

“You’re pretty incredible, you know that?” he sighed, a lopsided grin breaking across his face. The tension in the room dissipated with her kind suggestion.

“Oh, I know,” she replied, a playful glint in her eyes.

“And so incredibly humble,” he scoffed, his hand instinctively finding hers, resting on his arm, squeezing gently in gratitude for her unwavering support.

“Are you sure you don’t want some help cleaning this up?”

“I think I can manage. You really should get some sleep. Thanks for the help. I’m starting to feel like myself again,” he said.

“My pleasure,” she smiled, bowing her head briefly before looking back up at him. “Well, you know where to find me if you need anything. Goodnight, Rex.” 

With that, she pushed herself up and brushed her lips lightly against his cheek. He inhaled sharply at the contact, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of her breath linger before she pulled away.

“I’m still not sure about it,” she hummed, glancing playfully to the side.

“About what?” he asked, curious.

“The beard,” she replied with a teasing smile before stepping back and gently closing the door behind her, leaving him in silence. Rex found himself staring at the closed refresher door long after she had gone, uncertain of how to process her comment. His hand instinctively reached for his jaw again, feeling the slight prick of stubble against his fingertips. 

Bending over the sink, he examined her handiwork in the mirror. He didn’t notice any glaring mistakes; the blond hair had been cut uniformly short. Still, the contrast of his usual hairstyle with the new facial hair was striking. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—part of him liked it, finding it gave him a more mature look. Having started growing facial hair at a young age, he’d always kept it shaved. But as he got older, the change felt refreshing, even if it hadn’t been a conscious choice.  The fact that a beautiful doctor seemed to have an attraction to it made him more inclined to consider keeping it. After all, change could sometimes be a good thing.

Looking down, he noticed that most of the mess had already been pushed into a small pile, and it only took a few moments to tidy up. Even though it was late, he still craved the chance to rinse off. Those pesky hairs always left him feeling itchy, no matter what he did. Before long, he found himself standing under the warm stream of water, sighing as the comforting droplets cascaded over his head. Yet, the soothing sensation did little to ease the swarm of thoughts racing through his mind about the events that had just unfolded.

The memory of her gentle touch still lingered on his skin, igniting a warmth that both thrilled and confused him. He hadn’t known her long—not really—and spent even less time together in person. Yet, there was something special about the unlikely friendship they had forged. At least, that’s what he considered it. Men could think their female friends were attractive, right? That was normal. One could acknowledge someone’s beauty without wanting to pursue anything further. But that reasoning didn’t quite explain the way he had felt at the wedding, or the moments that followed…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He’d only turned away for a moment when Hunter snagged him for a quick chuckle, teasing about a “pretty doctor wanting to get some” while he grabbed another beer. For once, Rex had to admit he was feeling the effects of the alcohol. He rarely allowed himself to indulge like this; in his line of work, he could never fully trust his surroundings. Pabu was a rare sanctuary, and even then, he typically capped himself at one or two drinks. But tonight was different. Echo had shouted at him to “lighten up,” and he found himself actually socializing, drinking more than usual, and even dancing.

It was easy to get swept up in the joy of the newlyweds. Their love was so infectious that, during the ceremony, his gaze had wandered to the woman stationed across from him. He had become accustomed to picturing Mae as just a name on a screen or a disheveled figure after a long shift. But seeing her dressed up in that skin-tight dress reminded him of just how stunning she truly was. Not that her everyday appearance wasn’t captivating, but there was something enticing about witnessing a familiar face transformed. The way the fabric hugged her curves was mesmerizing, accentuating her swaying hips and showcasing her long, muscular legs—a delightful feature, given her petite stature.

Echo and Aiko had already departed, leaving the remaining adults to revel in their own shenanigans. Tech was engrossed with his wife, while Wrecker busily passed out glasses filled with his latest concoction to anyone whose drink was nearing empty. The others engaged in lighthearted fun, the air buzzing with laughter and camaraderie. Rex had stepped away from the main group, which still swayed to the music near the edge of the dance floor, where AZI continued to pump out tunes from his speakers.

But when Rex turned back, he was met with loud cheers and laughter, his curiosity piqued. He and Hunter moved closer, trying to decipher the commotion. To his surprise, there was Mae, the last person he’d have expected to see at the center of it all, atop a table. She had spent the day ensuring their friends were happy, yet now, it seemed she hadn’t strayed far from her drink. He noticed how her weight against him had grown heavier as they danced, a sensation he found surprisingly enjoyable. Now, watching her sway those mesmerizing hips, he realized she was well into her cups, the group cheering her on as she put on a show.

As Rex pushed through the crowd to get a better view, the scene unfolded before him. It appeared that a little well-intentioned letting loose had been encouraged a bit too enthusiastically by some of the others. Crosshair's snicker broke through the noise: “Didn’t know Stitches had it in her…”

Rex had never been fond of Crosshair and often did his best to overlook the way the sniper rubbed him the wrong way. Knowing that Crosshair shared a closer friendship with Mae only added to his irritation. It was easier to tolerate the sniper's presence when he witnessed Mae address Crosshair's brashness head-on, matching him with equal snark. But hearing that Crosshair had encouraged Wrecker to overpour for the smaller woman sent Rex into a rage.

“Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, shoving them aside as he rushed to pull the still-dancing Mae off the tabletop before she could hurt herself. 

“Relax… she’s having fun,” Crosshair pointed out, though the group's attention began to shift from Mae's antics to their escalating voices.

“She’s going to get hurt, and it’ll be your fault for encouraging Wrecker to serve her like that,” Rex hissed.

“She’s an adult. And from what I’ve seen, she has an unusually high alcohol tolerance. Stitches could’ve said she’d had enough at any time,” Crosshair scoffed, but Rex decided to prioritize getting Mae down from the table over engaging with him.

“Mae, please get down,” he called up, reaching a hand toward her as she turned to see him standing below with the others. Her eyes widened in confusion, and after a moment, she asked, her voice rising above the crowd, “You don’t like my dancing…? I thought you—”

“That’s not—” Rex glanced away, his cheeks flushing under the gaze of their friends. He gestured again for her to come down. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, doll.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching her process his words. Slowly, she lowered her hand into his.

Just when he thought she might be okay, she stumbled, losing her balance. Years of reflexes honed in battle kicked in, and he instinctively dropped her hand, reaching out as she tumbled into his waiting arms.

“Whoops,” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to steady herself.

“Nice catch, Cap,” Hunter scoffed, as the spotlight finally shifted away from them. With Mae off the table and the argument with the sniper subsided, the atmosphere lightened. In the chaos of getting her down, Rex noticed that Crosshair had slipped away, along with a certain blue bridesmaid.

“I think it’s time I took her home,” he said, earning murmurs of agreement from the group.

“But I want to stay,” Mae whined.

“I don’t think that’s wise—”

“Please, Sexy—oh kriff, I meant Rexy! Ha, that’s funny, Sexy-Rexy…” Her words trailed off as she became lost in her own thoughts. Rex glanced around, noticing a few amused faces. Desperate to escape any further teasing, he stepped back with a curt nod. As he moved, Mae instinctively clung to him for support. He adjusted his grip, ensuring her journey down the hill would be as smooth as possible, not that she weighed much to begin with.

As silence settled between them, doubt crept in. Had he crossed a line? She was an adult, just as the brash sniper had pointed out. Mae was more than capable of making her own choices. Yet, when he glanced down, he found her gazing up at him, her eyes wide and trusting.

“Something wrong?” he asked, catching her staring. She giggled, shaking her head in response.

“Just admiring you,” she replied.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to see that you haven’t seen a thousand times before.” Rex wasn’t sure why he felt the need to downplay himself, even though his tone carried a hint of humor. At least the batchers had unique traits—Tech and Crosshair were lean, Wrecker was absolutely massive, and Hunter had facial features that set him apart, even without his tattoo. But Rex knew he blended in with the other clones, distinguished only by his hair—and even that felt trivial.

“Don’t say that!” she insisted, her voice a mix of urgency and softness.

“It’s the truth,” he replied.

“No, it’s not.”

“I think—”

“I’ve met lots of clones, but I’ve only met one Rex.” She nestled her head against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. It was only then he noticed the warmth of her breath against his neck as she nuzzled closer. Confused by her words, he hesitated, unsure whether to probe further. Interrogating an intoxicated woman felt… inappropriate. Sure, she had shared her thoughts willingly and had been sending him subtle signals all night, but pushing for more didn’t feel right. Rex had had his fair share of drunken encounters in the past, but with Mae, he wasn’t sure that was what he truly wanted.

She was stunning—unbelievably so. In a way he’d never quite experienced before. Tonight marked one of the few times he’d seen her all dressed up, having grown accustomed to the sight of her in casual clothes, with messy hair and warm smiles that masked her tired eyes. Mae was a vision of soft beauty, the kind that made him want to share quiet moments in a sunlit kitchen over caf and gentle conversation. It wasn’t the fleeting beauty he’d known in his past, where lipstick-stained kisses were exchanged in hurried encounters against a refresher wall. No, this was the type of woman he’d want to cherish, to watch bloom slowly with every tender touch against her pale skin. 

Seeing her like this was complicating everything. It would be so easy to explore the physical connection between them. Her closeness throughout the evening had led to moments of his hands wandering as they danced, his inebriated state emboldening him to slip his fingers lower than he typically would. Not that she seemed to mind; he recalled how she pressed herself against him with every gentle touch. Mae was becoming a regular presence in his chaotic life, providing the comfort of physical closeness while allowing him to maintain the emotional distance he thought he wanted. Yet, even that didn’t feel quite right.

Startled by how abruptly their journey to her home had concluded, he found himself on her stoop, her head resting against his shoulder, blissfully content in his arms. She wasn’t asleep, but she radiated a sense of peace. His priority was to get her settled and slip away before he acted on any impulsive urges.

As he gently maneuvered her through doorways and furniture, he entered her bedroom for the first time. It was cozy, imbued with a feminine warmth that contrasted starkly with the cold durasteel walls of his bunk on the ship. The space felt alive, wrapped in a comforting energy that was almost like a warm hug. 

With little time to linger on the delicate lace curtains, Rex lowered her onto the bed, propping her up against the edge. But just as he tried to pull away, she tightened her grip around his shoulders. 

“Rex…” Her voice was a soft whine, reminiscent of a child’s plea.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. Rex tried to gently free himself from her hold, but to his surprise, despite her petite frame, she was stronger than she looked.

“I—what?” 

“I don’t want to be alone again…” Her pitiful plea nearly shattered his heart. In that moment, the silence of the house enveloped them, amplifying the absence of sound—no shuffling feet, no movement from the next room, not even the rustling of palm leaves outside. 

Realizing there was no way to shake Mae from this moment, he surrendered, lifting her just enough to settle into a seat, drawing her closer against him. His arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, pulling her in by the back. Warm hands slid gently along her exposed skin as he leaned his head against hers. “You aren’t alone,” he whispered into her hair, only for her to hiccup loudly, disrupting the heavy breaths she had been taking against him. Rex was struck by how, despite her distress, she hadn’t cried; only the ragged rhythm of her breathing betrayed her sadness.

“Aiko left, and you’re going to leave too. Everyone just... leaves or finds their happiness far away from me, and I’m just…”

“Just because things are changing doesn’t mean there aren’t people who care about you—”

“I am alone. Look around. You’ll wake up tomorrow and disappear for Maker knows how long. I’ll go back to work, just like always. Then I’ll come home to an empty house, all alone…”

“Mae—”

“And I’m so happy for them, I truly am. But I’m just so tired of being alone. You’ll go back to wherever you go when you’re not here, probably find some beautiful girl with kind eyes, and you’ll have what they all have, and I’ll just be…”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he urged, his voice low but firm.

“Why not?” she countered, a hint of defiance creeping into her tone as she pulled away slightly. Grateful that her spiraling thoughts had paused, he rubbed a hand over his jaw, struggling to find the right words.

“Because I can’t stand hearing you talk down to yourself,” he groaned, inhaling deeply. “You know I can’t stay. There are important things out there, and I just can’t—”

“I know. I just wish you didn’t have to,” she sighed, her gaze fixed on the floor. Rex noticed the way her shoulders slumped, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she worried the delicate skin.

“Me too,” he said softly, placing his palm over her clasped hands resting in her lap. They both understood why he had to leave; the unspoken weight of it hung in the air between them. “But I can stay tonight.”

“What?” she looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes.

“I can stay out there, if you want.” He gestured toward the main room, recalling the times he’d crashed on the sofa. It seemed a better alternative than retreating to his bunk on the ship.

“Please. Can you stay here, next to me?” She pointed to the space beside her. The bed was larger than he was accustomed to, but lying down next to her felt like a risky idea. “I can take the floor,” he offered.

“The floor?” she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“I don’t want to invade your space,” he replied.

“But—”

“If I sleep there, I won’t want to leave. I can’t—”

“Alright,” she said, a mix of firmness and sadness in her tone as she abruptly stood. “I want out of this.” She tugged at the hem of her gown, and Rex rose to his feet, suddenly aware of how her words stirred an unexpected warmth in his neck and ears. The thought of sharing a room with her, especially when she was still quite tipsy, made him feel more flustered than he wanted to admit.

“Right, I’ll handle this wookiee suit myself—”

“Could you help with the zipper?” she asked innocently, her soft hands brushing her red curls out of the way. The suggestion created an undeniable tightness in his trousers, and while he knew that wasn’t her intention, his body had other ideas. Closing his mouth to suppress the innuendo threatening to escape, he stepped closer and reached for the zipper without a word. 

Carefully, he dragged the clasp down until he hovered over her lower back. He expected her to keep the fabric clutched around herself, but when the dress slipped to the floor, he quickly averted his gaze. His feet felt as heavy as if they were stuck in sand, and despite wanting to retreat to the main room, he found himself frozen behind the now-nude woman. It dawned on him that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments beneath the fitted dress.

“I’ll be back,” he stammered, nearly sprinting from the room to give her some privacy. There was no way she’d feel comfortable being so exposed around him if she were sober, and to stare felt completely inappropriate—he was a gentleman, after all.

He swiftly removed his loosened tie and tossed it across the main living space, then made his way toward the closet. Echo had encouraged him to leave some of his clothes behind since his first visit, so he knew he could find a simple pair of athletic pants and a shirt mixed in at the bottom. Just as he bent down to grab his small bag, he heard a loud thud. 

With quick reflexes, he snatched the bag and bolted back toward the door. He flung it open to find Mae, in her clumsy, drunken state, having slipped as she attempted to dress herself.

“Oops,” she giggled, and Rex felt a wave of relief wash over him—she hadn’t hurt herself. Once again, he averted his gaze from her bare skin. “Help,” she called, and his attention snapped back to her seated form. Thankfully, her hands had instinctively covered her chest as he stepped closer.

His eyes landed on the shirt she had been trying to put on, only to realize it was one of his. He’d been missing that dark blue shirt for a few rotations now, not connecting the dots that he’d last seen the article on Pabu. Shoving aside any thoughts about her using one of his shirts to sleep in, he gently guided her arms into the sleeves before sliding it down her body.

“This is familiar…” he teased, noting the confusion in her eyes as she blinked up at him before it dawned on her what he meant.

“You left it behind, and I washed it. It got mixed in with my clothes, but then I realized how comfortable it is…” she stammered, flustered.

“It’s okay. You can keep it,” he replied, watching as her features softened for a moment before panic set in.

“I couldn’t! You don’t have much as it is—”

“Please,” he urged, reaching out to help her up from the floor.

“But—”

“Blue looks good on you. Just keep it,” he said, releasing her hand as he bent down to grab his bag, pulling out clothes to change into without further comment. 

As he slipped on a fresh shirt, he paused when he heard her shuffling toward the refresher. The space she’d occupied was now empty. She emerged shortly after, gesturing for him to go in after her. He nodded in understanding and finished his usual nighttime routine, splashing water on his face in her sink to cool his overheated skin.

When he emerged, Rex was surprised to see that Mae had transformed the floor into a cozy refuge, layering a sleeping bag with a pile of couch cushions and blankets for his comfort. She had already nestled into her own bed, and he could feel her blue eyes on him, watching his every move. 

“Everything alright?” he asked, kneeling beside her.

“No. But it will be. Thanks for staying with me and making sure I got home okay.” Her playful tone had faded, replaced by a formality he wasn’t accustomed to. It seemed the weight of reality had settled in as she curled up on her side, knees drawn to her chest. With her face scrubbed clean of makeup, she bit her lip for a moment before looking up at him and whispering, “You’re a good man, Rex.” With that, she reached over and switched off the light.

Unsure how to respond, he lay down on the makeshift bed she’d created. Soon, he heard the soft, rhythmic breaths that signaled she had fallen asleep, her lips gently parted. Rex rolled over, hoping to find rest himself, but unlike Mae, sleep eluded him. A growing urge tugged at him—he longed to abandon his spot on the floor and slide into bed beside her, to hold her close and whisper that he wouldn’t leave. It would be so easy, really. 

But he fought against that impulse, relying on the discipline that had kept him alive through so much. As the first light of dawn peeked through the curtains, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, careful not to wake her, before slipping out of the room.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That morning was part of the reason Rex had fought so hard against Echo's insistence on taking him to Pabu after he was shot. Deep down, he knew how easy it would be to surrender to a place he believed he shouldn’t go. It didn’t feel fair to Mae, either. She never let him see her disappointment when he left that morning, nor did she ever punish him for it. Yet, each day spent resting in her home made him long to stay forever. It felt as if he were transforming from a wild creature into a domesticated pet, and he found himself anxious about the implications of the delicate dance they had been doing around each other. What would happen if he truly gave in? How much would it jeopardize his mission? What if he were killed—what would become of her?

But those days of shared space, of a domestic bliss he never thought possible as a soldier, had softened him. Mae’s care became the love and acceptance he craved, her gentle touches and soft words transforming him into the “lothcat purring” she had teased him about just moments ago while cutting his hair. As he ran his palms over his freshly trimmed hair, he realized he had inadvertently let slip that he enjoyed her help enough to want it again. Admitting to her that he was unsure about how it could work, yet mentally wanting to explore it, felt monumental—a significant step forward.

Surely it was possible. General Skywalker had maintained a private marriage with the senator from Naboo before everything changed. He knew that Fox had a close bond with Chuchi, and Echo still traveled the galaxy with him despite finding Aiko. There had to be a reason why several of his brothers were willing to risk it all for someone special. Perhaps it was simply a matter of finding someone who made you question the limits of possibility. Maybe that was how you knew.

Rex was a soldier; war was all he had ever known, and he had taken pride in finding a noble purpose even after it. But relationships, families, and the idea of settling down were uncharted territory for him.

Cut hadn’t been wrong in holding up that proverbial mirror, pushing Rex to confront the truth he’d been avoiding: all clones thought about it. Maybe it was something inherited from Jango, or simply the biological yearning of being human, but they all craved intimacy, love, a family, and a home. And like Mae, Rex found himself increasingly weary as he watched their mutual friends discover these connections—sometimes in the most unexpected places, sometimes right where they had always been. 

Each night after the wedding, he lay in his bunk, haunted by memories of laughter as they watched the sunset over Pabu. It felt right. It felt like home. It felt like pure light. He had only experienced that feeling once before—when Ahsoka had saved his life, channeling the Force through him. Though his memories were hazy, he remembered the warmth that had pulled him to safety. Holding such a small but spirited woman in his arms was the closest he had come since then to feeling that unaltered warmth.

As he brought the bar of soap over his skin, he realized that wasn’t entirely true. He felt warmth in the mornings as he lifted caf mugs to his lips. He felt it in lighthearted conversations over dinner, in wet curls brushing against his arms as they watched holofilms together. He felt it in the cold ocean water lapping at his toes while he kept an eye on her paddling out safely. He felt it in those pretty blue eyes looking up at him, framed by his shirt as she prepared for bed—making him realize that 501 blue looked far better against a backdrop of freckles and flushed skin than it ever did on him. It was in delicate fingertips tracing the scar that had nearly cost him his life, a silent thankfulness that he had survived.

It was in dreams of watching the lines around her eyes deepen over the years, in the longing to see red hair turn to white. It was the desire to feel the swell of a belly, to experience those first flutters of life. It was bedtime stories about his heroic deeds during the war, and wondering whether he would spend a lifetime gazing into soft brown or blue eyes. It was holding the one he loved close every night and never letting go. 

That warmth was just down the hall, waiting for him to accept it and let it flow through him.

Rex fumbled to turn off the water, snatching a towel from the rack and drying himself with such urgency that his skin felt raw. He quickly pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and raced through the room, ignited by a sudden realization: Mae was everything he wanted. He needed to make that known before his courage wavered. With little thought, he flung open the door and rushed to her bedroom, his good hand forming a fist as he pounded on it like a madman.

When she opened the door, confusion flickered in her wide eyes, and he suddenly remembered he was only wearing his briefs.

His gaze roamed over her, taking in the sight of her damp hair and the silken slip clinging to her frame, fresh from the shower. The door concealed much of her body, but he couldn't miss the way her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing the panic in his distant expression.

For a fleeting moment, he considered whether storming to her door had been the wisest choice, but that thought quickly evaporated as he tried to express the torrent of emotions swirling within him. The profound feelings he grappled with were difficult to articulate, especially under the scrutiny of her beautiful blue eyes. 

As she pushed the door wider, stepping out from behind the barrier, worry creased her features. It was then that Rex felt a primal urge overpower his hesitation, driving him to make his feelings known through action.

With incredible speed, his good arm snatched her waist, collecting the doctor into his arms. Her eyes only widening at the action but before she could further question his strange behavior, the woman soon found his lips smothering her own in a passionate embrace. It was the kind of kiss that screamed, “To hell with the consequences.” The kind of kiss little girls dream about, the one a hero claims at the end of a fairytale from the maiden he’s saved. But in the wake of the shock, she had no time to react before he pulled away, a hint of regret flickering across his features.

“I’m so sorry—”

“Do that again,” she commanded, her gaze locked on his lips as she tilted her head toward him. Her hands glided up and around the back of his neck, reclaiming the connection he'd nearly lost in his anxiety. For Rex, her words were electrifying. With renewed confidence, he leaned in, surrendering to her embrace once more, emboldened by her invitation.

Rex soon discovered how much more incredible a kiss shared with someone you admired could be. Those plush and inviting lips of hers were much more enjoyable when he felt them pressed against his own, especially when she was sliding her slender fingers up and down the back of his neck and over his hair. Her body pressing into his own as he pulled her closer the best he could, his back leaning into the door frame for support as the quest to get as tightly wound together began. Just before things went further and he could swipe a testing tongue across her lips for entrance she pulled back slightly, gazing up at him through thick lashes with something heavy weighing on her mind. 

“What is it?” he asked, curious about why she had pulled back from their embrace. His tanned fingers contrasted sharply against her porcelain skin as he gently tucked her damp hair behind her ear. 

“Are you sure about this?” she replied. He understood her hesitation, especially considering how uncertain he had been just moments earlier. What she didn’t realize was that the only shift had been within himself—he was finally opening up to the idea he had always known deep down: he wanted to be happy. His commitment to his brothers shouldn’t hinder his own desires. For the first time, he was allowing himself to be selfish, ready to accept the affection she seemed eager to offer.

Rex was a soldier—a damn good one—but matters of the heart had never come easily to him. In that moment, he did what felt right. He wrapped his hand gently around the back of her neck, tilting her head slightly until their foreheads touched. Their breaths mingled, and he closed his eyes. Earlier, when he had spoken of feeling exposed, he hadn’t realized there was a deeper level of vulnerability. Now, holding her in his arms, even with his injury, he discovered that vulnerability could deepen further. And for the first time with her, all his reservations faded away.

“I’m sure I want to try. I’m sure of how I feel about you. As for the rest…” he trailed off, uncertain of how to express his thoughts. Fortunately, she seemed to sense where he was headed.

“We can figure it out. Together.”

“Together,” he confirmed, his gaze easily finding hers in their close proximity. A smile spread across his lips as she mirrored his expression.

“I have to admit, I like the sound of that…” Mae replied, her tone light and playful. He felt a flutter at how dreamy her words sounded.

“I couldn’t agree more, Doll,” Rex said, a laugh escaping him before he could hold it back. At that, she smiled, leaning back into him and brushing her lips against his before pulling away with an unexpected innocence.  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long now,” he hummed out, not realizing he’d spoken until she chuckled and asked, “since when?”

After a quick moment of reflection he answered. “Since that night on the beach,” Rex told her. The memory of the way her eyes had grown wide at the way he’d kissed her cheek lingering in his mind.

“Wait-“ she paused, eyes narrowing for a moment before she scoffed, “you are telling me we could’ve been doing this since the beach?! Rex that was so long ago. And you made me wait this long-“

The soldier couldn’t help but laugh at her faux frustration that he’d been holding out on his affections till now. Part of him was embarrassed he waited so long as well, but the other half knew that in the space between something more stable has grown. A level of trust that might not have had he made the jump that night. Regardless, her mock indignation made him smile. ”we could argue over that or…” he leaned in only for her to lean back from his advance. The sight was so enticing that he couldn’t resist chasing after her. “Get back here, I’m not finished yet,” he teased.

With a glimmer of mischief in her blue eyes, she leaned in closer. “Come and get me, Captain…” she teased, leaning back and gesturing toward the open door with a raised brow. 

Rex shot her a playful look, prompting her to clarify. “Cool it, scoundrel. I just wanted to be more comfortable kissing you…” Mae scoffed at his insinuation, but her gaze held a promise—the one that said, “I’m yours as long as you want me.” 

He could definitely work with that. And as for the rest, just like she said: they’d figure it out. 

Together.

[leenathegreengirl]

Tunes-Giving Event : Rex/Mae (NOV25)

Life is unpredictable, chaotic, and uncertain—its future never guaranteed. Rex and Mae understand this truth deeply. For Rex, his existence has been defined by war, shaped by the unyielding demands of being a soldier. Mae, on the other hand, has spent years immersing herself in the healing arts, using her work as a way to mask the shadows of her past. Both are strong-willed, steadfast in their purpose, and resilient beyond measure. But behind the walls they've built so high, it's hard to let anyone in. 

Over time, however, their shared understanding of life's burdens brings them closer in ways neither expected. Their songs echo this quiet yearning for something more—a desire for connection that’s been buried beneath their individual missions. Yet, through it all, there’s a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, one day they won’t have to face the world alone.

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

So don't call me baby

Unless you mean it

Don't tell me you need me

If you don't believe it

So let me know the truth

Before I dive right into you

You've already won me over in spite of me

And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

We've been doin' all this late night talkin'

'Bout anythin' you want until the mornin'

But there was something about you

It brought a change over me

Which was your favorite?

Peace

Dive

Head over feet

Late night talking

Something about you

Other: sound off in comments!

Voting ended onNov 26, 2024

Meet Mae!  EVENT MASTERLIST

(Special thank you my dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible! She is responsive for all the writing, design layout, post editing & greatly assisted in song selections! And the lovely Mae is entirely her creation!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate

[legacygirlingreen]

Do that again…

With incredible speed, his good arm snatched her waist, collecting the doctor into his arms. Her eyes only widening at the action but before she could further question his strange behavior, the woman soon found his lips smothering her own in a passionate embrace. It was the kind of kiss that screamed, “To hell with the consequences.” The kind of kiss little girls dream about, the one a hero claims at the end of a fairytale from the maiden he’s saved. But in the wake of the shock, she had no time to react before he pulled away, a hint of regret flickering across his features.

“I’m so sorry —”

“Do that again,” she commanded, her gaze locked on his lips as she tilted her head toward him. Her hands glided up and around the back of his neck, reclaiming the connection he'd nearly lost in his anxiety. For Rex, her words were electrifying. With renewed confidence, he leaned in, surrendering to her embrace once more, emboldened by her invitation.

Rex soon discovered how much more incredible a kiss shared with someone you admired could be. Those plush and inviting lips of hers were much more enjoyable when he felt them pressed against his own, especially when she was sliding her slender fingers up and down the back of his neck and over his hair. Her body pressing into his own as he pulled her closer the best he could, his back leaning into the door frame for support as the quest to get as tightly wound together began.

excerpt from “Do I Want to Know”

Art by the lovely @leenathegreengirl !

[dual posted!]

[leenathegreengirl]

Day 5 - Rex & Mae

I can't say I've ever met a man more in denial about his feelings than Captain Rex. However, his unwavering devotion to Echo—and his determination to help his friend find happiness—has created the perfect opportunity for him to grow even closer to our favorite doctor. Perhaps, in time, these two will move past their own hesitations and finally embrace what seems so obvious to all of us: the connection that's been waiting to take shape all along.

With a touch of nostalgia and a wonderfully sweet gesture, these two are undoubtedly on the path to growing even closer this Life Day season!

(Ao3 link HERE if you prefer that formatting!)

Event Masterlist

(💚💕EXTRA special thank you my very dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible and for allowing her OC Mae to be a part of this AU! She is, as always, the beautiful mind behind ALL the writing, design layout, post editing and song selections!💕💚)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

[legacygirlingreen]

"Tag" (A flashback) || Captain Rex x OFC Mae || Clone x OC Week 2025

Pairing: Captain Rex x OC Mae Killough (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 5.7k+

Rating: SFW

Warnings: honestly... can't think of anything. Tooth rotting fluff maybe?"

Author's Note: Day 2, let's go! This is a flash back to Rex's second trip to Pabu in which he spends some quality time with our favorite doctor. I hope this little fluffy moment before the Captain slips into denial over his feelings is a nice reprieve! Thanks again to @clonexocweek for organizing this event! Reminder this all exists within @leenathegreengirl 's Pabu AU! ~ M

Previous work | Chronological Next Work || Masterlist

Echo decided to take a last-minute detour. He couldn’t entirely blame him, though. Aiko had sounded distinctly unsettled over the transmitter, and while the issue might seem trivial to some, Echo wasn’t the type to let things slide. Rex didn’t mind the change of plans. After his first trip to the island, he’d found himself unexpectedly charmed by many things: the temperate climate, the stunning scenery, the peaceful atmosphere. And of course, the captivating doctor—

Ever since his first visit to Pabu, her kindness had quietly lingered in his thoughts. It even found its way into his daily life, hanging around his neck. That little piece of glass she’d given him? He’d never been able to take it off. Something about it just fit. Maybe it was the color, which reminded him of 501 blue. Or maybe it was simply the fact that it was the first gift he’d ever received that had nothing to do with his life as a soldier. Rex wasn’t entirely sure. But one thing was clear: he liked it. And he enjoyed her company even more.

When he’d given her his comm channel, he hadn’t expected her to actually use it. But she did—frequently. And soon enough, he discovered she was just as quick-witted as she was kind. She opened up about the little details of her life, and in turn, he shared his. She vented about long days at work—he couldn’t help but offer a similar complaint, albeit with the unfortunate addition of being shot at. There was something about the way she mixed playful banter with a deep sense of respect that felt refreshing. In her, he found a kindred spirit.

That said, he hadn’t quite found the time to visit again. Despite his best intentions, he’d been pulled into the whirlwind of responsibilities following Senator Organa’s agreement to join their cause. The senator’s connections and resources were proving invaluable in his mission to save as many of his brothers as possible. But all those new opportunities came at a cost: time. Time he didn’t have to spare for trips to distant islands or for the company of pretty doctors, no matter how much he wanted to.

Still, there was something comforting about the thought of her. Even in the midst of his increasingly hectic life, he couldn’t deny the small moments he spent conversing with her over com had become a much-needed reprieve. In her, he’d found more than just someone to talk to. She had become a friend—a rare connection he could hold on to in a world that often felt overwhelmingly solitary.

He couldn’t really fault Echo for insisting on stopping by to check on Aiko. In fact, it gave him a legitimate excuse to see his friend. He didn’t think anyone knew they were on the island, especially since he was able to navigate the streets without Omega’s excited cheers or the familiar presence of their brothers. Echo had made his way back to the house, but Rex knew Mae would likely still be at the clinic. For some reason, her work always seemed endless, as if she never truly left it behind.

The only light in the building came from the office, leaving the main area shrouded in darkness, still and empty. As Rex quietly slipped inside, a wave of uncertainty washed over him. He hoped his presence wouldn’t be unwelcome, but suddenly, he felt… nervous. There was no real reason to be, of course. But something about seeing her in person again felt like a daunting task. Despite having shared much information about him, including the trauma of Umbara—the darkest chapter of their deployments—there was still a certain comfort in communicating across distance. It was easier, less complicated. The idea of standing face-to-face with her again, however, felt weighty, almost overwhelming.

Before he could fully process his own hesitations, the door to the office swung open, and in an instant, panic set in. He instinctively took a step back, heart pounding, but then—chaos.

"Halt, intruder!" came the mechanical shout, followed by a flash of metal. It was AZI. Rex froze. He knew the Kaminonian droid had been assisting Mae, but he hadn’t anticipated being assaulted by a flying heap of circuits and gears, especially not while preparing to knock.

As AZI whizzed past him, Rex ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding the droid’s enthusiastic attack. His heart raced, but just as he thought things couldn’t get more chaotic, Mae's voice rang out from the office.

“AZI, did you get em’?” Her tone was concerned and slightly frightened. Rex watched as she peaked her head out into the hall. In her arms was a large stick. Soon her eyes settled onto him, shifting from fear to surprise. The droid promptly stopped in midair, hovering awkwardly, as if unsure whether to continue its assault or obey.

Mae’s gaze shifted back to Rex, her lips parting in surprise. “Rex?” Her voice was softer than usual, a little more vulnerable. “What—what are you doing here?”

For a moment, Rex was taken aback by the genuine warmth in her expression. He’d half-expected a more formal greeting, but instead, she looked relieved—as if seeing him was a pleasant, unexpected surprise. The tension that had been tight in his chest loosened just a little.

“I… uh, I- Well Echo was checking on Aiko so I thought I’d give them space, and thought why not come check on how you’ve been…” he explained, his words still a little rushed, but the nervousness in his voice fading with each second he spent in her presence.

Mae blinked, the surprise quickly transforming into a soft, bright smile that lit up her face. “You came all the way here just to check in on me?” She took a step forward, her surprise giving way to an evident happiness, the lines of her face relaxing as she scanned him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she admitted, her voice light, almost teasing, but her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth.

Rex wasn’t sure why it made him feel lighter, but it did. The weight that had settled in his chest when he first arrived seemed to lift, replaced by something comforting, something warmer. She was happy to see him. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her voice softened when she spoke.

He scratched the back of his neck, a half-hearted attempt to seem casual. “I know, I didn’t plan on interrupting anything, certainly not scaring you. I just thought it might be better to see you in person instead of just… over a screen or transmission.”

Her smile only widened at that, and she took another step closer, almost closing the distance between them. “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, her tone gentle and full of sincerity. “It’s a nice surprise.”

Rex didn’t realize how much he’d been hoping for that until the moment it happened. A genuine smile, an unspoken warmth between them. It felt easier, this time, to be here. Standing in the same room. Facing her.

“You’ve been working late?” he asked, gesturing to the office behind her, where the dim light was still on.

Mae nodded, running a hand through her hair, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.” She paused for a second, her smile shifting to something more thoughtful. “I didn’t expect you to drop by like this.”

“I can always come back another time,” Rex started, hesitant, as he thought about the disruption his visit might have caused. “I’m sure Echo will stay for the night—”

“No, don’t be silly.” Mae quickly dismissed his concern with a soft smile. “I was planning to make some caf and settle in for a quiet evening anyway. But… these reports can wait until tomorrow.” She paused, tapping the edge of the stick she’d been holding against the wall, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s not a problem at all.”

Rex hesitated, his voice sincere. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from something important.”

Mae met his eyes, her expression firm and reassuring. “It can wait,” she assured him, setting the stick down and flicking the light switch before stepping into the hall. “So, Echo came to check on Aiko?”

Rex nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. “Yes, he was worried about her. She seems—”

“Stressed?” Mae finished for him, her tone soft, understanding. “She’s been carrying a lot lately. It’s not really my place to get into their business, but I’m glad Echo came. I don’t think anything I could’ve said would’ve eased her mind. Having him here will help.” She paused for a moment, then offered him a smile that was warm, but a little wistful. “That said, maybe we should give them some space... How about a walk by the water?”

Rex considered her suggestion, the idea of spending time with Mae alone weighing on him in unexpected ways. It was already dark by the time they’d reach the shoreline, and the thought of walking down by the ocean with her, when most of the island was silent and asleep, stirred something deep in him. On one hand, it was exactly what he needed—a quiet moment away from everything.

But on the other hand, the solitude of the night brought a kind of vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Being with her felt like a balance between longing and caution, the kind of tension that made him feel both alive and uneasy. He could already imagine the silence between them, the gentle rush of the waves in the background, and how they might both slip into that unspoken intimacy without the distractions of the world around them. His pulse quickened, both excited by the prospect of being alone with her and apprehensive about how easily things could shift. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever might come of it, but the pull to be with her was undeniable.

He glanced at Mae, trying to gauge if she felt the same way. Her expression was relaxed, almost expectant, as though this wasn’t a big deal for her. She seemed so at ease with the whole idea, which made Rex’s apprehension all the more pronounced. He wasn’t used to letting down his guard so easily, especially not with someone he was starting to care about in ways he couldn’t fully understand.

"I guess a walk could be nice," he said, his voice a little rougher than he'd intended. "Quiet, though. Just... the ocean and us." His words hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered if he had sounded too eager or too uncertain.

Mae smiled at him, and for a second, it was as if the world outside of them didn’t matter. Her eyes held a spark of something—curiosity, maybe, or maybe it was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite read. "Sounds nice," she replied softly, her gaze meeting his brown eyes with a knowing warmth that made his chest tighten. 

He felt a little foolish for worrying at all. This was just a walk. But as he stood there, facing her, the anticipation of it—the closeness they would share—felt like something more. The tension between them was palpable now, even if it wasn’t acknowledged out loud. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Despite the uncertainty that simmered beneath the surface, something about being with her felt like it might be exactly what he needed.

"Alright then," Rex said, managing a half-smile, even as his heart picked up its pace. "Let’s go."

As they walked toward the path leading down to the water, the sound of the waves growing louder with each step, Rex’s thoughts settled into a strange, quiet place. This was uncharted territory for him. But for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t afraid to see where it might lead.

They fell into step beside each other, the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet the only sound accompanying their walk. The night air was cool, and a faint breeze ruffled the edges of Mae’s hair, the strands catching in the low light of the moon. Rex found himself stealing glances at her—at the way she moved, so effortlessly calm, as though she had all the time in the world. The silence between them was comfortable, but Rex could feel the weight of the moments stretching out in front of him.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The ocean waves lapped at the shore, rhythmic and soothing, and Rex’s thoughts wandered. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt, how he was drawn to her with every step they took closer to the water.

But still, there was something unsettling about it all—the quiet, the intimacy of the walk, the way his heart kept picking up speed every time Mae’s gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to say something, to break the tension, but his mind stumbled over the words. The idea of being with her felt like it could tip into something more, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for, and that uncertainty gnawed at him.

Mae must’ve sensed his internal struggle. Without looking at him, she spoke, her voice soft and even, as though she were testing the waters. "You know, I think sometimes we forget how much we need moments like this. Just… time to breathe."

Rex nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah. It’s easy to forget, with everything going on. But... this feels different, in a good way."

Her eyes met his then, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I’m glad."

The words were simple, but they settled over him like a warm blanket. Despite the apprehension swirling in his chest, something in her smile made him feel… seen. Not just for who he was in the moment, but for all the things he had buried under layers of stress and distance. He felt a shift then—like the weight of the world had lifted just a little. Maybe he didn’t need to figure everything out all at once. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Tonight wasn’t about solving anything. It was just about being. 

A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it, surprising himself. "Funny. I’ve been running around trying to fix everything, and all I needed was this." He gestured around them, toward the night sky, the quiet beach, and most of all, her.

Mae’s smile widened at that, her eyes softening with something that almost looked like understanding. "Sometimes, all we need is to stop running. Let ourselves just… be."

They walked in silence again, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind this time. It was a silence that felt easy, the kind you shared with someone when you didn’t need words to fill the space between you. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rex let himself relax, the weight of his thoughts drifting away as they walked side by side.

The night stretched out before them, vast and full of possibilities, and in this moment, Rex found himself wondering if he was ready to stop running from whatever this—whatever they—could be.

Rex took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs in a way that was both calming and grounding. The sound of the ocean seemed to match the rhythm of his thoughts, steady and soothing. Mae was walking beside him, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to let go of the constant hum of responsibility that usually occupied his mind.

Still, there was a nervous energy inside him, an unease that didn’t quite dissipate. His heart would pick up speed every time their shoulders brushed, every time her gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to fill the space with words, something to lighten the tension, but he couldn’t find the right thing to say. The quiet between them felt more intimate than it should have, and yet, it was strangely comforting.

Mae seemed to sense his internal struggle again. She glanced at him, her expression a little softer this time. “You ever notice how the hardest part isn’t even the work or the responsibilities? It’s just... giving yourself a break, actually letting yourself take it.”

Rex let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. We’re so used to running, we forget how to walk... slow down.”

She smiled, the kind of smile that made him feel like she really understood. He glanced over at her, hesitant, but then something in him shifted. Maybe it was the weight of the evening, the stillness, the way the stars seemed to blink down at them like silent witnesses. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t pressing him to open up, just walking beside him, letting him take his time.

He decided to give it a shot, let a little of the tension in his chest slip out.

“I remember something from my time in the war,” Rex began, his voice casual, as if he were talking about an old story. He couldn’t help the way the past sometimes resurfaced when he least expected it. “We’d been stuck in this remote outpost for days. No real breaks, no downtime. Just... constant motion. You’d think it’d be a bad thing, right? But one night, the whole unit got permission to just... sit by the fire. No orders, no targets, nothing but the fire and the night.”

Mae’s gaze softened, her full attention on him now. “That sounds rare.”

“It was,” Rex said with a nod. “We were used to working at full speed, and then, for once, we were told to take a breath. And I’ll tell you, it felt strange at first. Like I didn’t know how to just... exist. You’re so used to going all the time that the quiet, when it hits, feels like something you have to fight against.”

Mae’s brow furrowed a little, curiosity piqued. “What did you do?”

Rex smirked slightly. “Well, we sat there. No one said anything for a long time. Then one of the guys pulled out a radio. I don’t know where it came from—they weren’t allowed in the field. But he started playing the long range clone broadcast, and the rest of us just listened to whatever songs play, just laughing and talking, forgetting about the war for a bit.” He let out a small, almost surprised laugh at the memory. “We weren’t in combat, we weren’t worried about what was coming next. We were just there. And it felt... good. Really good.”

Mae’s expression softened, and her voice was gentle when she spoke. “Sounds like you needed that. A moment just to... breathe.”

“I did,” Rex said, the smile lingering as he looked at the ocean, as though he could still hear the echoes of that long-forgotten night. 

Mae nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “Me too,”

Her words settled in his chest like a quiet promise. Rex let the silence stretch between them once more, this time without the anxiety he usually carried. He didn’t need to fill it with anything.

After a few moments, Mae broke the silence with a playful smack to his bicep. Before he could even react, she broke into a run, her laughter floating back to him. “Tag, you’re it!” Rex blinked, surprised at the sudden burst of energy. Tag? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or protest, but he found himself caught up in the playfulness of it all.

Mae was quick—surprisingly quick—but Rex knew he wasn’t going to have much trouble catching her. The sand made it harder to get any real speed, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He started after her, and it wasn’t long before he was closing the gap. Mae’s laughter rang out as she zigzagged through the sand, trying to throw him off. But Rex had been trained for speed. His long legs carried him easily, his body slipping into an effortless rhythm. Mae glanced back over her shoulder, clearly underestimating how fast he could move. “You’re not even trying!” she called, already out of breath.

Rex’s chuckle rumbled through the air, light and teasing. “I’m just warming up.”

Before Mae could even react, he closed the distance in two long strides, his boots kicking up sand as his eyes fixed on her, tracking every movement. He could practically sense the moment she realized how much ground she had lost—the sudden shift in her pace, the hesitation in her step. But it was too late.

In an instant, Rex reached out, his hands sliding effortlessly around her waist from behind. He didn’t even hesitate as he lifted her off the ground. His grip was sure, his arms strong, and in one fluid motion, he had her swept up into his embrace, her feet dangling in midair. It was as if time slowed for just a heartbeat, her body pressed against his with an ease that made her gasp in surprise.

“Gotcha,” Rex murmured, his voice warm with amusement as he looked down at her, his playful grin never wavering. Mae let out a surprised yelp, her laughter blending with her mild shock. The thrill of the chase still thrummed in his chest, his heart beating fast from the rush, but the feel of her in his arms, this close, added a whole new layer to the excitement.

Mae squirmed in his arms, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “No fair! I was winning!” she protested, but her smile was wide, her breath coming in quick bursts as she tried to squirm away.

“You started it,” he teased, his voice low and playful, the thrill of the chase still lingering in the air between them. His heart hammered in his chest, but it wasn’t from exertion. It was something else, something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Mae gave him a mock pout, the corners of her lips curling in that adorable way he always found irresistible. “You’re a cheater.”

Rex couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. Her words were playful, but there was something else there—something unspoken in her eyes. His grin softened too, just a bit, as he let his thumb trace the outline of her side through the fabric of her shirt.

“I’m just fast. There’s a difference,” he said with a wink, his voice teasing but affectionate. The playful tone lingered between them, but there was a quiet warmth in the air as their gazes met.

Mae’s squirming slowed as she relaxed into his hold, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips. Her hands came to rest lightly against his forearms, her fingers curling slightly in the fabric of his sleeve, as though grounding herself in the moment. “Fine, fine. You win this time,” she said, her voice light, surrendering to the game.

For a moment, Rex held her there, his heart still racing, but his mind slowing down as he took in the feel of her in his arms. She was warm, close, her scent—the soft fragrance of jasmine and something sweeter—clinging to the air between them. He didn’t want to let go just yet.

Slowly, he began to lower her down, his hands lingering on her waist as he gently set her feet back on the sand. But he didn’t release her immediately. He kept her there for a second longer, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips, the subtle rhythm that matched his own. It wasn’t just the chase he had won—it was the moment.

When he finally let her go, his fingers lingered for a heartbeat too long before dropping to his sides. He took a slow breath, noticing the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in the air, the scent mixing with the cool night breeze. It made the moment feel even more intimate, a quiet connection between them that neither of them had spoken aloud.

Rex met her gaze, his smile lingering as he stepped back just enough to give her space. “Next time, I’ll let you have a head start,” he teased, but the underlying sincerity in his tone was unmistakable. Something had shifted between them, and he wasn’t sure what it meant, but he didn’t mind.

Mae’s smile softened, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken, before she scoffed playfully. “I don’t need a head start…” she said, her voice light, but there was a knowing undertone to it. The admission was wrapped in childlike defiance, and it made Rex’s heart skip a beat. Something about that vulnerability, the way she danced around the truth but still let him in, made him smile without even thinking.

Rex raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling upward in that mischievous way she was beginning to find endearing. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night,” he teased, his voice warm and light.

Mae gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips as she turned toward the water, the sound of the waves adding a peaceful backdrop to their exchange. “Speaking of sleep…” she hummed, her voice trailing off as she gazed out over the shimmering ocean, her thoughts clearly drifting. “You think we should head back, or…?”

For a moment, Rex didn’t answer, simply taking in the sight of her—her posture relaxed, her hair tousled from the game, the way the soft moonlight bathed her face. He didn’t want to rush the moment, and yet, he wasn’t ready to leave just yet either.

He stepped a little closer, his voice soft but sincere. “I don’t know... I’m actually enjoying this,” he admitted, the words surprising even him as they slipped out. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the quiet night, the solitude of being with her, that made everything feel... right. “Spending time with you,” he added, letting his gaze linger on her profile, as though trying to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

Mae’s gaze softened at his words, her smile turning more tender as she turned to face him. She didn’t say anything at first, simply meeting his eyes with that same unspoken understanding, the kind that seemed to fill the spaces between their words. Before she could respond, the soft beep of Rex’s comm broke the quiet tension between them, cutting through the moment with a sharpness that felt almost jarring. He frowned slightly, reluctantly pulling his wrist up to answer.

"Yeah?" Rex said, his voice a little less steady, as though he didn’t want to break the connection between them just yet.

“Rex, where are you?” Echo’s voice came through, faint but clearly laced with concern. “It’s getting dark, and you haven’t checked in. And, uh... you know Mae hasn’t come home either—” Echo’s voice faltered for a second, clearly not used to being the one on the other end of an unspoken silence.

Rex sighed softly, glancing at Mae before giving her a small, apologetic smile. He was still hesitant, unwilling to pull away from this quiet moment with her. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Rex replied, his voice casual. "We're out here... just on the beach. Nothing to worry about." He didn’t want to say too much, not with the warmth of the moment still hanging between them.

Echo’s voice came back, quieter this time, but still laced with a subtle mix of concern and irritation. “Look, you don’t have to avoid the house or anything, but…  It’s getting late, and someone needs to find Ma—” Echo suddenly stopped himself. Rex could hear the realization clicking into place. The silence stretched for a second, and Rex could practically feel the shift in the air.

"Wait," Echo continued, his tone now tinged with something else. “...You're with Mae. Alone. On the beach.” There was a brief pause before he added, “You know what? Never mind. You two have fun.”

The sharp click of the call ending was almost immediate, and Rex stood there, staring at the now-silent comm, the weight of Echo’s implications settling in. He looked up at Mae, his heart still pounding a little faster than it probably should be.

“That went well,” Rex muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as a faint blush crept up his neck.

Mae’s expression was a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something playful and knowing. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. “Well, I guess we’ve officially been caught.”

Rex chuckled, stepping a little closer, though he didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he allowed the moment to settle again, the hum of the waves and the soft moonlight wrapping around them both. He found himself unwilling to break the silence too quickly this time, as though letting the sound of the ocean could fill in the spaces where words didn’t need to go.

“I guess we should head back,” Mae said after a beat, the hint of a smile still playing at her lips. But there was something different in the way she said it this time, something a little less certain than before, as though she wasn’t so sure about leaving just yet either.

Rex’s gaze softened, the playful grin still present, though it was tempered by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, I think we should... But I’m in no rush.”

Mae’s smile widened, and she took a small step closer to him. “Neither am I.”

The ocean breeze suddenly picked up, a strong gust that whipped through the night air, carrying with it a hint of chill that caught Mae off guard. She shivered slightly, her arms folding across herself instinctively. Rex noticed the subtle change in her posture—the way she had grown just a little more distant, her body reacting to the unexpected cold.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice soft, the concern there before he could even think twice.

“A little,” she admitted, her voice trailing off as she gave a half-smile, still feeling the bite of the wind. Before she could even consider moving away, Rex reached out. His arm encircled her waist, drawing her a little closer to him. The warmth of his touch was instant, and Mae felt her body relax slightly, the chill receding in the softness of his embrace.

When she didn’t pull away, Rex let his hold loosen just a fraction, wanting to make sure she felt comfortable. “Better?” he asked, his voice lower now, just above a whisper, as though any louder might break the sweetness of the moment.

Mae nodded, her smile softening. “Much better.”

The cool evening air no longer seemed as biting, but something else shifted in the space between them, something that felt like it went beyond the mere proximity of their bodies. The breeze seemed to carry a charge of its own, mingling with the unspoken understanding that lingered between them. There was a subtle tension, a sweet uncertainty in the air, like a question that hadn’t yet been asked but was sitting there, waiting to be acknowledged.

Rex could feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against him, the warmth of her presence making him want to hold on to the moment for just a little longer. The moonlight softened her features, casting a glow on her face that made her seem almost ethereal. His fingers tingled, wanting to reach out and maybe get a better hold on her, but instead, he leaned in slightly, drawn by the pull of the moment. 

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it either. It’s not like he’d ever really attempted to do it previously. At least in this context. The more sweet, and wholesome pretense of showing appreciation and care, and not conveying a need or a want. His lips brushed against her cheek, just next to her ear, a playful, quick kiss that lingered only for a second. But in that instant, something in Rex’s chest fluttered, and he pulled back just enough to look at her, the air between them suddenly feeling impossibly delicate. His lips curved into a teasing smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes now—a warmth, an earnestness that hadn’t been there before.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a sincerity he hadn’t intended. “It’s been... a pleasant evening.”

Mae blinked at him, the playful spark still present in her eyes, but now softened with something else—something that spoke volumes in the way she gazed at him. She reached up, her fingertips brushing the spot where his lips had just touched her cheek, as though to keep the moment with her.

Her voice dropped lower, the usual lighthearted tone replaced by something sweeter, more intimate. “I’m glad,” she said, her gaze unwavering, and for a split second, it felt as though time itself slowed down around them. “Thank you for getting me out from behind that desk,”

The silence between them lingered for just a moment longer, a comfortable, easy space where words weren’t necessary. Rex couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Mae, the feeling of contentment settling over him like a warm blanket. He let out a soft, almost relieved chuckle as he finally spoke, his voice light but affectionate. “Alright, I guess we should really head back before Echo gets any ideas.”

Mae’s laugh, light and musical, filled the air between them. It was the kind of sound that seemed to harmonize perfectly with the rhythm of the waves, the breeze, the calm of the night. “Yeah, we don’t want to give him more ammunition,” she teased, her voice still carrying that easy, playful tone.

Rex smiled even wider, the warmth of the moment seeping into him as they began walking side by side. The air between them, charged just moments ago with something unspoken, now felt simple, familiar. Just two friends, walking together after a night that felt effortless—peaceful, genuine, with no expectations. He didn’t feel the need to analyze it, not now. There was something beautiful in the quiet company of someone you enjoyed being around, and for tonight, that was enough.

And in that simple truth, he couldn’t help but feel grateful.

[legacygirlingreen]

Something About You || Captain Rex x OFC (Mae Killough)

Pairing: Captain Rex X Original Female Character (Mae Killough); mentions of @leenathegreengirl's PabuVerse characters!

Word Count: 8,800

Warnings: Mention of troubled past (think Henry the 8th vibes honestly). Tooth rotting fluff honestly - they are so freaking cheeky and sweet its painful at times.

AN: Hi friends! Part Two of Rex & Mae's story is finally out! I have already started working on a part three, but for now, I recommend going back and reading part one if you haven't. If you have, full steam ahead! Massive shout out to my dear friend @leenathegreengirl for her amazing art featured in the cover and the full image at the end! Seriously, I cannot thank you enough for bringing them to life! Linked below is Part 1, as well as bit more info on Mae! Anyway without further ado...

PART 1 || Mae Bio || Mae Q&A || PART 3

Masterlist

Shimmering, translucent waters stood in stark contrast to the stormy, eerie oceans of Kamino. Rex had never understood why anyone would choose to spend time by the sea until he followed the others down to the beach. The warm, sandy shores, cool shade from swaying trees, and pristine waters that caressed his skin were indulgences he hadn’t known he craved.

Initially, he had donned a pair of stretchy shorts tossed his way by Hunter, only to appease Omega. She had appeared at dawn, eager to reveal the island's delights. Rex found it hard to refuse her, especially since her hair shared his distinctive hue, a welcome departure from the standard brown of the Fett genome.

As he and Omega led the way, the path through the trees opened up to a breathtaking vista. The refreshing scent of salt lingered in the air, waves lapped peacefully against the shore, and birds called to one another. Flowers crowned the bushes lining the treeline, and the warmth of the sand beckoned. Amidst it all, a figure glided gracefully over the waves.

Rex was captivated, the sunlight dancing off the water and illuminating porcelain skin. He barely noticed Omega cup her hands around her mouth, her voice ringing out as she called, “Mae!”

Startled, the figure with damp red hair turned toward them, waving before diving into the water. Rex’s heart raced for a moment until he spotted her head reemerging, breaking the surface with a splash.

“Isn’t it amazing? The locals call it surfing. Mae’s been trying to teach me, but it’s harder than it looks,” Omega chimed in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Rex could only manage a small nod before following her into the sunlit paradise.

As Rex helped set down the box of assorted items he had been given before their journey, he focused on arranging the space according to Omega's enthusiastic instructions. He laid out a few blankets on the sand, turned the crate upside down to create a makeshift table, and propped up some tarps for shade. She had even designated a hammock in the trees for her grumpy brother, Crosshair.

The murmurs of the island's residents drifted around them as more of Omega's brothers and their companions arrived to soak up the sun. Rex felt a twinge of unease; it was a rare luxury to relax, and in truth, he hardly knew how to embrace it. The sound of footsteps in the sand and something being driven into the ground behind him intensified his brief moment of concern.

“Ready to try it again, Omega?” came a cheerful voice that stirred memories of the previous night. He had awakened to find several of his brothers and Omega peering down at him, and he couldn’t help but feel a hint of disappointment that she had slipped away during the night. Now, she stood before him, clad in a skintight black mesh fabric reminiscent of his armor's undersuit, and he was suddenly acutely aware of her curves.

Last night, he had tried not to stare, captivated instead by her bouncing red curls as she spoke. But today, avoiding glances at her figure would prove to be a challenge.

“What do you say, hun?” she asked, her syrupy-sweet voice cascading over her plump lips, completely capturing his attention.

Rex initially hummed in response, thinking she was addressing Omega, but it quickly dawned on him that her gaze was fixed on him. Both she and Omega were watching him expectantly, and he felt warmth rising in his cheeks. “Oh, uh—”

“Mae asked if you wanted to try! It’s lots of fun!” Omega chimed in, her excitement palpable as Rex contemplated her suggestion. He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his hesitation in his throat as he glanced at the surfboard. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“Omega, I think the Captain could use some rest and relaxation, not a workout—”

“I’ll do it!”

The words slipped from his lips in a rush, surprising both Mae and himself. Standing there, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, uncertain about what he had just agreed to as he awaited her response. Blinking away the shock of his own outburst, he caught Mae's smile, her palms gliding over her hips before she gestured toward Omega.

“Oh, wonderful! Omega, darlin’, could you grab one of the extra boards from over there? Preferably one of the bigger ones.”

Clearing his throat to stave off any potential voice cracks, Rex attempted to recapture the lighthearted banter they had shared the night before. “Are you calling me fat there, Doc?” he quipped.

Her laughter was as sweet as he remembered, her head shaking in amusement. “Not at all, Captain. You’re far from it—though I might suggest taking off your shirt,” she added casually, stepping away to assist Omega.

Confused by the sudden need to consider her opinion on his physique—a fact he had never questioned, given the demands of war that had kept him in peak shape—Rex caught the lingering gaze of Hunter. A smirk danced on Hunter's face, the side devoid of tattoos, as he gestured toward Rex. “Best not to keep her waiting, Captain. It’s not every day a pretty lady asks you to strip.”

“You coming?” Mae asked, prompting Rex to glance back over his shoulder. He nodded briefly and, without another word, tore off his shirt, stepping into the sunlight. As his bare feet sank into the warm sand, he caught the sound of Hunter snickering behind him and tried his best to tune it out.

“How would you rate your balance?” she asked, her gaze searching his own for a genuine answer.

“Fairly decent, I suppose,” Rex shrugged, unsure how balance could be measured, his hand rubbing along the nape of his neck.

“I can work with that. We’ll start on land,” she explained, gesturing to the board propped beside her. Assuming she meant for him to pick it up, he was surprised by how light it felt in his hands. Mae tucked her own under her arm and headed closer to the water's edge, and he followed her silently.

“Any reason we’re starting on land?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, it’s easier to practice the movements here, where you’re stable, before trying them on the water. Don’t worry—I think you’ll be a natural,” she said with encouragement as she set the board down in the sand. Rex followed suit, placing his board a few paces away from hers.

He watched as she lay across her board, positioning herself vertically on her stomach, and mimicked her stance.

“Alright, I’m correct in assuming that GAR conditioning has made you quite familiar with push-ups?” she asked, glancing over at him as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Yes,” he replied, recalling the rigorous training the clones had undergone since their youth, which continued throughout the war.

“Perfect! That’s half the battle,” she said with a smile. “I’ll walk you through the motion if you want to follow along—”

“Right,” he said, placing his forearms down on the board just like she did.

“So, when you’re paddling out, you’ll want to push over the sides of the board until you’re on the wave. From there, pull your hands back to your sides and place your palms flat on the board near your chest,” Mae instructed. Rex followed her directions without hesitation, eager for her to continue.

“Perfect! This part should be easy for you. Just do a push-up and hold yourself on your toes,” she said, demonstrating the movement. Rex watched her lower body lift effortlessly off the board, then shook his head and mimicked her.

“Now, this is where it starts to get tricky, especially on the water. Move the leg you want as your back foot and place it near your other knee, keeping your toes on the board while maintaining your balance,” she explained. Rex observed as Mae positioned herself in a way reminiscent of a ‘mountain climber.’ He copied her movements, nodding for her to go on.

“Okay, now take your other leg and place your foot between your hands, keeping your knee bent.” She executed the motion with impressive speed, tucking her small frame up onto both feet and holding steady as she waited for him to catch up. As Rex did his best to follow suit, she nodded and pushed herself into a standing position, prompting him to quickly do the same before she could offer more guidance. He realized that while the movement felt straightforward on solid ground, it would be much more challenging on an unstable board in the water.

“Great! I knew you’d be a natural. Do you want to try it on your own to see if you’ve got it down? Then we can head out,” she said, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. A part of Rex wondered if his ability to grasp the movement had genuinely impressed her. 

Running a hand through his hair, he nodded and lowered his body again under her watchful gaze. Doing his best to recall the movements from memory, he felt confident in his performance. Just as he focused on where his front foot landed, he felt gentle fingers graze his jaw, guiding his face forward.

“Looks perfect, but remember to keep your gaze forward. Looking down can throw off your balance; focus on where you’re going, not where you’ve been…” she advised, her fingers retracting as swiftly as they had brushed against his skin. A warm flush spread across his face as she pulled away, leaving behind a lingering sensation that felt almost electric.

Using his strength to push himself up, despite the brief lightheadedness from her fleeting touch, he soon found himself towering over her again. A bright smile lit up her face, revealing her white teeth as she nodded at him. “Perfect! Let’s try it in the water,” she said, nudging his shoulder before disappearing to sit in the sand.

Curious about her sudden retreat, he watched as she took a small strap from the back and wrapped it around her ankle. He mirrored her movements in silence, noting how her gaze wandered over his frame. He knew there wasn’t much she hadn’t seen before. She was a doctor, and one who had worked with clones before. His tan skin and frame hardly differed from those around him. However, he knew his scars might be different as they told his own unique story. He felt her eyes linger on the center of his chest, where a bullet had almost claimed his life.

Red hair dramatically bounced as she realized she’d been caught staring, her eyes darting away at the last moment as she pushed herself off the ground. Rex had always been attuned to the movements of others, a skill honed over years of watching targets and surveying for danger. Her hurried movements now lacked the grace he had admired before, leaving him to wonder what thoughts occupy her mind.

Before he could linger on his thoughts, she sprinted toward the water, and he hurried after her, eager to keep pace. “Come on, Soldier!” she called back, her voice ringing with excitement as she dove into the ocean, vanishing beneath the waves. He followed suit, delighting in the refreshing coolness of the water against his skin. Carefully placing his board atop the gentle swell, he watched it bob as he stood near the shore, waiting for her to reappear.

“Do you want to try standing up here before we head out further?” Mae asked, suddenly popping up on the other side of the board, her arms gracefully shifting as she positioned herself. Assuming her suggestion came from a genuine desire to see him succeed, he nodded and hoisted himself up in the shallow water while she held the edges steady.

He immediately felt the difference of being in the water and approached the motion of standing with extra care. Once his feet were firmly planted, he rose with as much grace as he could muster. The board rocked beneath him, and when he looked down, he saw Mae beaming as she released her grip, allowing him to fully experience the push of the waves. With a joyful splash, he jumped back in, swimming close to her as she applauded. “I think you’re ready to head out and try it for real!” she said, her enthusiasm shining through.

With a nod, he watched as she effortlessly pulled herself onto the board and demonstrated how to paddle out. As soon as he grasped the motion, his gaze drifted to the captivating scene before him: the ripples of her arm slicing through the water, the sunlight glinting off her wet red hair, and the curve of her figure as she paddled ahead, her black swimsuit accentuating her silhouette.

Perhaps it was the thrill of being able to gaze without interruption, but he couldn’t help but watch her throughout their journey into deeper water. When she turned around and effortlessly hoisted herself up on the board, he quickly glanced away, not wanting her to catch him staring. He remained horizontal, moving closer and propping himself up on his elbows, ready for her to explain.

But she seemed completely absorbed in her desire to catch a wave, laying back down and paddling away, leaving him behind. 

His brown eyes carefully tracked her movements, admiring the ease with which she glided through the water. She rose as if it were second nature, standing tall atop the wave as she distanced herself from him. To his astonishment, she even had the audacity to walk along the length of the board while riding it, only to leap off into the shallow water moments later.

Knowing it would be a moment before she returned, he pulled himself into a seated position and settled in to wait. Even though he understood the movements, he still felt a twinge of unease about trying it without her guidance. As she paddled closer, she grinned and waved, and he couldn’t help but mirror her smile. She looked truly at peace—much happier than the day before, when exhaustion and stress had weighed her down. Now, she radiated lightness and joy, enjoying the water not as a task, but as a pure source of delight. Perhaps it was a type of relaxation he could come to understand in time. 

“How’d you do that?” he asked once she was close enough for him to see the dimples in her cheeks.

“What, walking?” she replied casually.

“Yeah, it looked so effortless,” he complimented.

“Practice. Time. Definitely not a move for beginners like you. Speaking of which—” she nudged her head toward his board, “are you ready to give it a shot on your own?”

“I suppose. I can already tell paddling is going to be quite the arm workout,” he said, gesturing as she let out a light laugh.

“It is! How do you think I got these guns?” she said playfully, flexing her surprisingly impressive bicep for someone her size. Unsure why he felt compelled to comment, he was even more taken aback when a cheeky remark slipped from his lips.“Whoa there, Ma’am! Do you know how to handle a loaded weapon like that?” 

From shock at his quick remark to a teasing smirk, she shot back, “Not sure, Captain. Why don’t you come over and give me some firearm training since that’s your area of expertise?” Her laughter rang out as she turned away, leaving him momentarily speechless, mouth agape. He blinked in disbelief, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. “Well, I do have a few tactical moves up my sleeve,” he called after her, trying to regain his composure.

She glanced back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, really? I’m intrigued!”

With a newfound determination, he pushed off the board and paddled toward her, his confidence slowly building. “Alright, just remember: I’m an expert in this field,” he teased, aiming for a lighthearted banter as he caught up with her.

As they floated side by side, he couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight danced on the water around them, mirroring the playful energy between them. “Most important part of handling weapons is making sure they are properly maintained” he asked, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to her arms as the woman caught on to what he was insinuating with a laugh. 

She laughed again, the sound like music in the salty air. “Oh of course, Captain! Might I need to pass your expert inspection…?”

He grinned, enjoying the playful tension between them. “Absolutely! I take my inspections very seriously,” he replied, feigning a serious expression that quickly broke into a smile. 

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her laughter. “Well, I hope you’re thorough,” she said, inching a little closer on her board. 

“Thoroughness is my specialty,” he quipped, feeling a rush of excitement. He studied her arms, the sun casting a warm glow on her skin, and added, “You’ve clearly put in the time. Those guns are impressive.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain,” she replied with a wink, leaning back slightly as if to give him a better view. “But can you keep up with me when it comes to the real action?”

“Oh, I think I can handle a little competition,” he shot back, his competitive spirit ignited. With that, he paddled ahead, urging her to follow. The chase was on, and the thrill of the moment filled the air. As they raced across the water, laughter and splashes followed them, the sun warming their skin and the ocean breeze carrying away any lingering doubts. He felt alive, invigorated by both the challenge and her presence. 

There was something refreshing about the way he could be both playful and straightforward with her. Rex couldn’t recall the last time he’d flirted so unashamedly with a woman—certainly not for the simple joy it brought him, rather than with the aim of a quick hookup. But as she surged ahead in their race toward the shore, her board catching a wave and propelling her effortlessly forward, he found himself grappling with a revelation: he was flirting with Mae.

She was the same charming doctor who had shown kindness to Echo and every man he’d sent through Pabu. The woman who had welcomed Aiko and made her feel at home. Everyone seemed to hold her in high regard, and Rex had quickly come to appreciate her even more after catching glimpses of her past. There was a depth to her that drew him in, making this playful exchange feel all the more significant.

Silencing the nagging voice inside him that questioned “why,” he attempted to stand, following the motion he’d practiced. His feet barely made contact with the board before he found himself sliding off into the cool water. Breaking the surface, he spotted Mae watching him with a playful smirk. “You put your front foot down first—that’s what made you fall off the back,” she critiqued, her tone light as he blinked, processing her words. It dawned on him that she was right; he had indeed led with his front foot. 

“You need to establish a firm foundation first,” she continued, offering a smile. “That said, it wasn’t a bad first attempt. I’m sure we’ll get you there in no time.” Her encouragement wrapped around him, igniting his determination to improve. He wiped the water from his eyes, feeling the coolness of the ocean embrace him as he grinned back at her. “Alright, then. Let’s try this again.” 

Mae nodded, her enthusiasm infectious. “Just remember, start with your back foot, and try to keep your weight balanced on the board,” Taking a deep breath, he swam back to the board, climbing on with renewed focus. He steadied himself, recalling her advice as he positioned his feet carefully this time. As he prepared to rise again, he glanced over at Mae, who watched with an encouraging smile.

“Ready?” she called, her excitement palpable.With a nod, he paddled out with the wave gaining momentum. As he felt the board finally catch along its pull, he  pushed up, this time leading with his back foot and shifting his weight more deliberately. For a brief moment, he felt the board stabilize beneath him. Just as he thought he might actually succeed, the wave surged, and he wobbled precariously. 

“Keep your core engaged!” Mae shouted, her voice cutting through the splash of the waves. He concentrated, trying to maintain his balance. But just as he thought he had it, the board tilted, and he found himself slipping again. This time, he fell with a splash, but as he broke the surface, he couldn’t help but laugh. Mae burst into laughter too, her joy infectious. “You’re getting closer! Just a bit more practice, and you’ll be a pro.” 

“Yeah, if I don’t drown first,” he joked, paddling back toward her, needing a moment as he found the paddling to be a bit more draining than he’d anticipated. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked after a moment. He nodded, slightly puzzled, as she drifted closer. Pulling herself onto the board beside him, she abandoned her own board for a moment. Her hands lifted to his shoulders before sliding down to his elbows, gently raising them. “You can extend your arms to help stabilize yourself, but you’re really tense,” she said, her voice calm and encouraging. “You need to relax a bit…” She moved her hands back to his shoulders, her fingers gliding along his skin in a soothing manner. Gradually, he followed her advice, allowing the tightness in his shoulders to melt away under her gentle touch.

As he relaxed, he felt a warmth spreading through him, both from her touch and the shared moment. “How’s this?” he asked, trying to gauge her response. Her fingers flexed for a moment before disappearing from his body. “Much better,” she replied, a smile brightening her face. “Now, focus on your balance and the rhythm of the water. You can do this.”

He took a deep breath, feeling the gentle rocking of the board beneath them. “Alright, I’ll give it another go,” he said, determination bubbling up within him. 

“Just remember to keep your core engaged and take your time,” she added, her hands pushing off his board as she returned to her own once more. Offering a reassuring grin she told him. “You’ve got this.” With her support, he began to paddle once more. Pushing himself up again, leading with his back foot and extending his arms out for balance. This time, he felt more stable, the water beneath him less daunting.

“See? You’re doing great!” Mae cheered, her enthusiasm infectious.

For a brief moment, he found his footing, gliding over the gentle waves with newfound confidence. But just as he began to believe he had mastered it, a larger surge bumped into the board. He wobbled precariously, and before he could adjust, he tumbled into the water once more.

Emerging with a splash, he laughed, shaking his head as he glanced over the top of the bobbing waves.“Hey, every attempt is a victory!” she called out, her laughter mingling with his own as she paddled closer. “You’re making more progress than you realize. Let’s try again!”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Returning to shore with a lighter air around him, he followed behind the doctor as she insisted they should take a break, claiming she was tired. Deep down, he knew her suggestion was really for his benefit. Rex had severely underestimated how draining the activity could be. Still, he felt a swell of pride for the progress he’d made.

“You looked a bit awkward out there, Rex. Surfing is harder than you thought, huh?” Hunter joked as they approached the spot where the rest of the group had gathered.

“I don’t see you out there giving it a shot,” Rex shot back.

“I value my reputation, thank you very much. Can’t have people watching me make a fool of myself like some people,” Hunter replied, a playful smirk on his face. Rex scoffed at the insinuation, laughter bubbling up between them.

“Oh hush, he’s doing great. Although any more sun and you are going to start burning there Captain-” she nodded towards him as she held a bottle of what he assumed was some sort of sun protection. 

“You’re one to talk,” he said, gesturing to her cheeks, already flushed from the sun despite the sunscreen she had applied.

“Some of us are just a bit less immune to solar radiation,” Mae replied, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I could use some help with my back.”

Rex felt a swirl of excitement and apprehension at her request. Part of him relished the idea of being close enough to touch her, while another part worried about what that might mean. Yet, she had already touched him several times, each encounter feeling casual and comfortable. Taking a deep breath, he chose to embrace the moment. “Not a problem, ma’am,” he said, trying to sound confident.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer?” she giggled, her fingers deftly grasping the zipper of her wetsuit and tugging it down from her sternum to her bellybutton. As she slipped her arms free from the material, Rex stepped forward, his gaze instinctively dropping to the ground to avoid staring as she applied sunscreen to her front. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her being particularly careful, making sure every inch of her chest was covered before moving on to the rest of her body. She bent at the waist to lotion her legs, her bottom brushing close to him as he struggled to keep his focus on the lapping waves instead of the fact she’d shoved her quite round bum near him. 

“Alright, you’re up!” she said with a playful giggle, waving the bottle of sunscreen. Rex raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Me?”

“Your back!” she clarified, gesturing toward him. Suddenly, it struck him that she intended to help him out before he had a chance to return the favor. Turning around, he felt her step closer, the warmth radiating from her as she placed her palm on his right shoulder. The unexpected touch made him jump, eliciting a soft snicker from her as her delicate hands began to rub the lightly fragrant lotion into his skin.

Instantly, he felt the tension he had been holding since the start of the war begin to melt away under her nimble fingers. She moved with purpose, ensuring the lotion was absorbed without lingering too long, her hands gliding across the expanse of his back. When she finally withdrew, he turned to reach for the bottle, but she looked up at him with a bright smile and tilted her head slightly, saying, “Lean down for a second.”

His eyes widened in confusion as she gently cupped the side of his head, her thumbs brushing the tips of his ears. Unsure of her intentions, he choked slightly on his own saliva, which had been pooling in his mouth, and stammered, “What—?”

“Ears are one of the most common areas to develop melanoma,” Mae explained, reminding him that she was a doctor. Her intentions were purely clinical; she aimed to highlight a vulnerable area prone to severe damage. Clearing his throat, he looked down into her eyes and noticed a delicate ring of gold encircling her blue irises just before she met his gaze.

“Good to know,” he said, and as she nodded, he felt compelled to add, “Thank you.” She acknowledged him with a slight bow of her head before handing him the bottle and turning her back to him. Her long red hair cascaded down, obscuring part of her shoulder. He gently tapped her shoulder and gestured, “Uh, you might want to—”

“Right,” she chuckled, gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling it out of the way. Just as he was about to place his open palm against her back, something caught his eye—a scar, almost like a brand, marred her right shoulder. It was unmistakably intentional.

He felt a surge of curiosity mixed with concern, racking his brain for a moment as to why it looked so familiar. His gaze lingered, and she turned her head slightly, asking, “Something wrong?”

Rex hesitated briefly before placing his hand in the center of her back, rubbing in the sunscreen gently while his mind raced, trying to recall where he’d seen that marking before. As he moved his hands lower, he felt her shiver at the contact just above her swim bottoms.

“Sorry,” he murmured, catching the airy, uncertain response from her. “You’re alright, hon,” she reassured him, though the warmth in her voice didn’t quite mask the hint of tension.

In that moment, the marking and her accent struck a chord within him, illuminating details of her past he hadn’t anticipated uncovering. The realization weighed heavily on him, a deeper understanding forming in the quiet space between them.

Killough. Rex recalled reading about them in the archives as the war progressed. Despite the Republic’s diminished presence in the Outer Rim and the overwhelming focus on the droid armies, he was aware of the criminal activities lurking in the shadows of the conflict. The Killough Clan was notorious—a wealthy and well-connected crime family deeply entrenched in the region. They frequently associated with the Pykes, the Hutts, and other dangerous organizations. Why else would she bear a brand from such an organization unless…

Fingers lightly grazing the burn, Mae turned away abruptly, her eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion as she stepped back from him. “Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Rex might have probed further, perhaps even flirted, if he hadn’t just stumbled upon a revelation that made his stomach sink. Surely she couldn’t be connected to them. Right?

“You’re welcome,” he replied, tension hanging thickly between them. The weight of the realization that he’d pieced together her past hung over them, a shadow neither could shake. For how the man perceived her reaction, it was clearly a painful subject, possibly even incriminating. And for her, he sensed that she feared he would judge her based on it.

This unspoken tension made their quick exit easier, each of them looking for an excuse to escape.

As Rex stepped away from the group, he struggled to reconcile the fun, flirty doctor he had been enjoying with the unsettling possibility of a darker past. The contrast left him feeling uneasy, and he needed time to process it all. Just as he made it to the treeline of the beach he heard a raspy voice say, “go away,”. 

Crosshair. 

Rex had forgotten the sniper had settled into a hammock away from the others in this direction. Not wanting to confront his prickly personality amid an internal crisis, he almost muttered “gladly” in annoyance as he stepped away.

“Problem…?” came Crosshair's voice, tinged with an unexpected concern as Rex turned to see him leaning over the edge of the hammock.

“You all— I mean, someone has to know… how—” Rex struggled to articulate his concern, the words eluding him as Crosshair’s dark eyebrow shot up in interest.

“I can’t believe you let Stitches lure you into her death trap she calls surfing,” Crosshair remarked, either attempting to deflect the conversation or tease him while he was vulnerable—Rex couldn't quite tell.

“And I can’t believe you all are letting a woman connected to a criminal enterprise roam freely, let alone neglect to warn a guy—” Rex shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

Crosshair's sharp intake of breath and equally hostile tone cut through the air as he dropped to the ground beside Rex in the blink of an eye. “What did you just say?”

Caught off guard by the sudden transition from teasing to menacing, Rex straightened, irritation bubbling within him as he realized the enhanced clone had the height advantage.

“I said you’re all either ignorant or reckless for allowing a woman connected to the Killough Clan to roam freely—” Rex retorted, his voice steady despite the tension.

“I’d recommend you keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand and that don’t concern you—” Crosshair hissed, his tone icy. Rex clenched his fist, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but pressed on.

“It does concern me. I’ve spent all day in the company of a woman—”

“Mae. Her name is Mae,” Crosshair interjected sharply.

“Mae” he corrected before continuing, ”Who’s walking around with a brand from one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the galaxy,” Rex shot back.

“Like I said, stop involving yourself in things when you don’t know the whole story,” Crosshair warned, taking a step back, eager to distance himself from Rex before the tension escalated further.

“But-” 

“Don’t you think one of the first things Tech did when we saw that scar was investigate? We’re not fools. We know better than to get involved with dangerous people, especially for Omega’s sake. As for why she has that scar, that’s not my story to share. But I’d advise you to think very carefully before you disrespect a woman who’s spent the better part of a year cleaning up your messes without you even realizing it.” With that, Crosshair turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Rex momentarily speechless.

Glancing back at the water’s edge, Rex saw Mae standing waist-deep in the waves, her smile radiant as she demonstrated to Omega how to push up on the board. The memory of her gentle touch lingered in his mind, alongside the uncomfortable realization that Crosshair had been right: she had given him no real reason to worry. He didn’t know the full story, but he wasn’t about to find comfort in the words of a sniper with a blood-soaked past tied to the Empire. 

Rex knew he had to be cautious; survival depended on it, and that instinct was not something he could simply switch off. Yet, as he watched her vibrant red hair catch the sunlight, he felt a growing urge to extend some grace until he had more clarity.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The sun was beginning its slow descent over the water, casting a warm glow on the beach. Most of the group had retreated to clean up before dinner, leaving Rex alone with Hunter as Omega waved goodbye over her shoulder. 

“Someone should stay down here to make sure she’s okay,” Rex said, nodding toward Mae, who was now sitting on her board, watching the sunset with her back turned to them. She had kept her distance from him for most of the day, perhaps still affected by the moment he’d touched her scar or by his argument with Crosshair. Whatever the reason, he had retreated into himself since then.

Trapped in his own thoughts, Rex found himself trying to piece together the fragments of her past. Could she have been a slave? Maybe she was the child of an advisor? Or perhaps she had been tangled up with a former lover... 

As he glanced out at the silhouette of her figure breaking the horizon, a thought struck him: what if he simply asked her? She had been honest the night before about her experiences in the RAR. If she opened up it would certainly ease his own mind.

Spotting the board he had neglected earlier, Rex paddled out to meet Mae on the water. She was much further away than before, and it took him significantly longer to reach her. As he got closer, he noticed she still hadn’t taken her eyes off the sunset. With her legs drawn up on the board and her chin resting on her knees, she seemed lost in thought. Without her wetsuit, the pink of her shoulders stood out against the fading light.

He was certain she had sensed his approach, yet she remained silent. Uncertain of how to begin, Rex felt a wave of regret wash over him for seeking her out. What if she was angry? What if he had crossed a line and she needed space? The confidence he had felt just moments ago seemed to dissipate, leaving him anxious and unsure. Surely, things hadn't shifted from wonderful to tense so quickly.

He cursed the Kaminoans for programming him for war rather than for navigating human emotions. Throughout his life, he had been led to believe he wouldn’t need to engage with civilians, leaving him unprepared for moments like this. The decision to forgo pleasantries now felt like a misstep. Though he was a free man in many ways, he would eventually need to connect better with civilians.

In the past, he had mostly adhered to regulations, interacting only with a select few—like the Senator’s handmaidens or some hired help at the 79s. He remembered Jesse’s girl, the one who had gotten pregnant, whom he had helped off-world after the war. But those brief encounters hardly made him an expert in emotional matters.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” she said, her tone firm yet laced with a palpable dejection.

“Wha—” he started, but she turned abruptly, locking him with a gaze that made even the battle-hardened captain shrink under the intensity of her eyes.

“Please, don’t pretend you don’t understand. I know you saw it. I’m fully aware of what that mark signifies. I had hoped you would be the kind of man to ask me, rather than fleeing as if I personally were the one who committed those crimes,” she began, and in the brief moment she paused to run her hand over her hair he started to reply. 

“So that means you—”

“I’m not finished,” she interjected, her voice steady but infused with a quiet strength. He nodded, letting her continue. “Have you ever been on your own, Rex?” she asked, her gaze softening as she studied his features.

“I—uh, well, no. I can’t say I have. I’ve always had someone. My brothers, our Generals. There was always someone there,” he admitted.

“It’s not easy being alone at such a young age. I found out he was going to sell me off to some associate to be his bride. I endured years of abuse, watching my mother and every bride he took after, killed for giving him daughters. But learning I was to be ‘gifted’ to a man fifty years my senior was the final straw. When I escaped, I went to the one place I knew they’d be too afraid to look for me.” 

“Coruscant,” he filled in the blanks, understanding how she had become part of the Republic.

“I always wanted to be a doctor,” she continued, her voice tinged with longing. “I felt a sense of purpose when I patched myself and my sisters up. But medical school is expensive, and I left everything behind when I fled. I enlisted so I could study for free, to see the stars, knowing that it was too close to the Republic for them to ever find me again.” Mae closed her eyes, a soft breeze tugging at one of her damp curls before letting it settle by her shoulder once more.

“I—” he trailed off as she opened her eyes again. The fading light cast a silvery hue to them, momentarily captivating him and causing him to lose his train of thought. Regaining his composure, he pressed on. “I’m sorry for running off earlier. You have to understand, I’m a soldier. I’ve been trained to be hyper-aware of danger, even when it comes in unexpectedly beautiful forms.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m pretty, Captain?” she teased, a playful smile breaking through the tension and bringing a moment of ease between them.

He chuckled softly, a warmth spreading through him. “Perhaps it is. But it’s more than that. It’s how you handle yourself. You’re strong, and that’s what caught me off guard.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “So you’re saying strength is attractive?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone earnest. “In my experience strength like that, it’s a rare quality. Most people hide behind walls, but you seem to embrace your experiences. That and admittedly-“ he looked at her with a smile before saying, “you are very candid,”

She tilted her head, considering his words. “Well, it hasn’t always been easy. But I’ve learned that there can be strength in vulnerability.”

Rex felt a shift in the air, a new understanding forming between them. “I’ve always been told to keep my guard up, but maybe there’s something to letting it down sometimes.”

“Exactly. You don’t have to carry the weight alone,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. “We all have our battles, Rex. Sharing them can lighten the load.”

He nodded, feeling a sense of relief. “Then maybe I can start by sharing a bit more… that is, if there was someone willing to listen..?” His tone conveys a question rather than a statement as her eyes flash with understanding.

“Good,” she said, her smile returning. “I would be honored,” the redhead told him as he turned away, suddenly bashful at the notion. 

“Remind me to give you my comm channel when we get back,” the man said, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun just began to peek over the water. Darkness would soon envelop them, and he knew they should return, but a part of him yearned to stay.

The weight of the moment hung in the air, inexplicable yet significant, as if the atmosphere crackled with unspoken energy. He felt a flicker of hope at the prospect of friendship and the stability it could bring—especially with someone who had been quietly supportive without him even realizing it. Memories of Crosshair’s words flashed through his mind, mingling with the insights he had gained the night before.

“Hey Mae?” he called, drawing her attention from the fading sun to him. She lifted her head from her knees, a curious hum escaping her lips. “Thank you,” he said, sincerity threading through his voice.

He wasn’t entirely sure which part of her kindness he was acknowledging—her honesty about her past, her compassion towards his brother, her understanding of his nature, or the lightheartedness that made him feel at ease. Maybe it was simply the way she made him feel like just a man, watching the sunset with a remarkable woman. Regardless of the reason, he felt compelled to express his gratitude.

“Anytime, Rex,” she replied, brushing her hair over her shoulder with a soft smile. “But we should probably head back,” she added, letting out a gentle sigh.

“Yeah,” he agreed, stealing a glance at her. The sun had kissed her skin, giving her a warm glow. “You’ve been out in the sun all day. It’s definitely time we get you back.”

With that, they leisurely began to paddle back toward the shore, neither in any rush to end their time on the water. Eventually, as the shoreline beckoned, they reached the shallows. Rex and Mae hopped off their boards, the cool water swirling around their ankles as they walked back to the beach.

Just as they were about to step onto the sand, Mae paused, her fingers sifting through the sand below. A delighted sound escaped her lips as she unearthed something.

“What is it?” Rex asked, intrigued. He couldn’t help but find her childlike excitement endearing as she examined her find.

“Your armor—it's blue, right?” she asked, holding up the small object in her hand, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. He nodded as she held the small object up to the fading light, revealing a blue fragment nestled between her slender fingers. Unlike typical glass, it had a frosted appearance, giving it an almost ethereal quality. “It’s called sea glass,” she explained, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It forms when fragments of glass get smoothed out by the sand, making them soft to the touch instead of jagged like broken shards.”

She handed it to him, inviting him to examine it more closely. The color mirrored that of his blue armor, and it was indeed as smooth as she described. Yet, despite its beauty, Rex found himself puzzled by her delight over what he considered just a piece of discarded glass. Rex turned the sea glass in his hand, admiring its color and smoothness, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just an oddity. “It’s beautiful,” he said, trying to match her enthusiasm, “but why are you so excited about it? Isn’t it just… trash?”

Mae laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “That’s where you’re wrong! It’s not just trash. It has a story—it was once something else, maybe a bottle or a jar, and now it’s something new. Isn’t that kind of magical?”

He looked at her, contemplating her words. There was a profound depth to her appreciation that he hadn’t considered. “So you see beauty in… broken things?”

“Exactly! Just like us,” she said, her voice sincere. “We all have our own scars and stories, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find beauty in them despite the pain they once caused.”

Rex felt a flicker of understanding ignite within him. “I guess I’ve always focused on the damage itself rather than the possibility of finding beauty in it.”

Mae smiled, a gentle encouragement in her gaze. “It’s okay to feel that way. But remember, just like this sea glass, we are still here. Resilient and shaped by what we’ve endured into something entirely different,”

He handed the sea glass back to her, a newfound respect for its significance growing. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I suppose I needed a reminder.” She beamed at him, tucking the piece into her pocket as they continued their walk along the shore back towards her home, leaving the beach behind them. 

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The following morning brought with it the realization that he had to return to the stars and the mission that awaited him. After saying his goodbyes the night before, he decided to slip away quietly before anyone else woke up. He neatly folded the blanket from the sofa where he had slept and grabbed his bag, casting one last glance down the hall at Mae’s closed door. He knew she was likely still asleep, just as Echo and Aiko were in the other room. He didn’t want to disturb her; she seemed to be someone who rarely got the rest she needed.

Pabu in the early morning light was just as beautiful as it had ever been—quiet, warm, and inviting. It felt like home, even though he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable here. Yet, he understood why the others had found a sense of belonging.

Each step back toward his ship felt surprisingly lighter. After sharing his private communication channel with the talented doctor the night before, he left the decision to reach out in her hands. She had thanked him for finally showing his face after all the clones who had passed through her care on his behalf. He felt willing to let their friendship develop at its own pace, however that might unfold… for now.

Just as he caught sight of his ship’s outline, he heard the sound of light footsteps pattering behind him. Assuming it was Omega sneaking away to see him off, he turned, ready to greet the young girl. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a pair of bare feet on the stone and a shock of vibrant red hair.

“I heard the door close—” Mae began, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as Rex’s surprise quickly faded into a nod.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said sheepishly, his shoulders slumping as he realized he hadn’t been as quiet as he’d hoped.

“It’s okay. Someone should see you off, right?”

“I suppose,” he replied, setting his bag down for a moment, his mind racing with questions about why she had chosen to come out.

“I also forgot to give you this last night,” she said, stepping closer, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. When he didn’t respond, she rose onto her tiptoes, gently placing something over his head and letting it drape across his chest. Pausing for a moment, their eyes crossed one another. Her checks flushing at the recognition he was watching her closely. With that, Mae stepped back to allow him space once more, and he caught a light whiff of something feminine. Not exactly floral, but certainly reminiscent of the aromatic scents of the island tangled with perfume. 

Remembering why she’d stepped close to him in the first place, his hand south the item. It was the same piece of tumbled glass from the night before, but now it had a small hole at the top, threaded with a cord that extended to a leather band. “I thought you should have a memento from your first time on Pabu, and the blue matches your armor,” she explained as he turned the sea glass pendant over in his hand, marveling at its beauty and the thought behind it.

Rex held the pendant up to the soft morning light, the frosted blue glass shimmering delicately. A wave of warmth washed over him as he realized the significance behind Mae’s gift. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice sincere. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

Mae’s smile widened, her excitement infectious. “It’s a reminder that even broken things can become something beautiful.”

He nodded, his fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the glass. As he reflected on his words, thoughts of her filled his mind. Mae came from a perilous past, having faced terrifying and uncertain situations that could have easily shattered her spirit. Yet here she stood, illuminated by the morning light, bare feet planted firmly on the ground, dressed in her nightgown—radiant and resilient. There was a strength in her that captivated him, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, one could emerge beautiful and stronger.

The pendant felt weighty yet comforting in his hand. “I’ll cherish it,” he promised. The gesture felt like a connection, something he could carry with him no matter where the stars took him.

“I hope it brings you memories of this place, of your brothers and your friends,” Mae said softly, her gaze lingering on the pendant before meeting his eyes.

“It already does,” he replied, a warmth blossoming in his chest as he took a moment to appreciate her kindness. “This whole trip has been more than I expected.”

Her expression shifted, a hint of vulnerability peeking through her cheerful demeanor. “I’m glad. It’s nice to know you enjoyed your time here.”

“More than I can say,” he said, feeling the weight of the moment. “You’ve made this place feel like home, even if just for a little while.”

Mae’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down for a brief moment before meeting his gaze again. World spinning, butterflies in his stomach as he looked back at her. His gloved hands stroking the smooth surface of the pendant between his pointer finger and thumb as he looked down at the way her expression showed a hint of longing amidst her resolve. Clearing her throat after a beat between them she said, “You should get going, though. I didn’t mean to hold you up,”

“Right,” he said, reluctantly picking up his bag. “I guess it’s time for me to ship out.” 

As he turned toward the ramp, he felt a twinge of regret. “I’ll keep in touch,” he assured her, glancing back.

“Promise?” she asked, her tone laced with hope.

“Promise,” he confirmed, feeling the weight of that commitment resonate between them.

With one last smile, he turned and began walking away, the pendant resting against his heart—a tangible reminder of their shared moments. As he sat down in the cockpit, he couldn’t help but look back one last time, capturing the image of Mae standing there, the morning light framing her in a golden glow. She’d moved further back under the large tree at the top of the Island’s hill, leaning against its low hanging branch as she lifted her hand into a wave. 

Starting up the engines, Rex felt a renewed sense of purpose. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with the pendant as a reminder of his time on Pabu and the connection they had forged, he felt ready to face whatever awaited him among the stars. And if he found it way back to Pabu in the future, perhaps he could enjoy a few more slower moments in the midst of his chaotic life.

To be continued...

Again shout out to my friend for this amazing image!

[legacygirlingreen]

"Spitfire" (A flashback) || Captain Rex x OFC Mae || Clone x OC Week 2025 Event

Pairing: Captain Rex x OFC Mae Killough (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 4.9k

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Medical related touching over armor (seriously nothing kinky about it but clone men's mind may have wandered); slightly suggestive comment; mentions of clone rights (or the lack there of); mentions of deaths on Ryloth

Author's Note: Hi there! I am really excited to participate in the first day of @clonexocweek with a little flashback for my OC Mae! Thank you so much for organizing this event and making all the banners! This was a silly idea that came to me, wondering what if Rex and Mae had crossed paths previously without realizing it. So this is a technical 'first meeting' to provide a bit more weight to the actual first time they interact, found HERE. I also thought it would be fun to write from Cody’s POV because… well we need more of the Commander as far as I’m concerned. I hope you all enjoy, and as a reminder, this ship exists within a larger AU by @leenathegreengirl. If you haven't seen her work, seriously go check it out. It's got Clone x OCs all over it with so many original characters! ~ M

Mae & Rex Masterlist || Chronological Next Work || Masterlist

Fire and brimstone is what Cody would have described it as. He couldn’t recall ever having encountered a civilian so furious—at least, not one who wasn’t a military officer. The Jedi didn’t get angry. His brothers, too, typically kept their emotions in check, controlled by discipline and experience. It was only the occasional politician or separatist who displayed their anger so openly, and even then, it was often driven by pride or ideology.

But the small woman in front of him? Her fury was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. She hobbled forward, her movements sharp and determined, though it was clear that every step caused her pain. Despite his recommendation to let him carry her bag—one she clutched tightly, almost desperately—she insisted on managing it herself. And that’s when it hit him. He realized, for the first time, that he had never truly known what real, raw anger looked like—at least not from someone like her. Anger that burned hot and fierce, yet controlled and purposeful. 

When Cody had been sent to the transport ship in the hangar upon its arrival with the fleet, he hadn’t expected to be tasked with retrieving a civilian. He’d assumed it would be another officer, or perhaps someone of higher importance. But General Kenobi had given him clear instructions: find the civilian and bring her to the bridge.

The moment his eyes fell upon her, however, all thoughts of formalities disappeared. The unmistakable markings of the RAR uniform were marred with the signs of a long, grueling journey. The weariness in her eyes, the sheer exhaustion etched into her face, told him everything he needed to know. This woman had likely faced horrors beyond comprehension, and yet here she was—alive. A miracle, really.

Her chest was tightly wrapped in surgical dressing, and her arm was bound to her torso by a makeshift sling, but despite the injury, she moved with a sense of urgency, as if time was slipping away from her. There was no hesitation in her step, only resolve.

She hardly spared him more than a glance and brief exchange of plesantries, rushing to push past him and make her way toward the leaders, the need to speak with them evident in her every movement. When he reached for her bag to assist her, she slapped his hand away with a sharp motion. The action was swift and unyielding, and a small part of Cody understood why. She didn’t want to appear weak or helpless. She wanted to prove she could handle herself, even in her condition.

It wasn’t a battle worth having, so Cody backed off. He wasn’t about to argue with someone clearly determined to maintain control over what little she had left. Besides, if her resolve was anything like the fury in her eyes, he knew better than to push her.

As he walked alongside her, occasionally calling out directions as they navigated the twisting corridors, Cody couldn’t help but notice how her hair unraveled from the bun that had struggled to contain its chaos. Strands of bright red tumbled free, a striking contrast to the sharp anger burning in her eyes. The color, vivid and bold, mirrored the fiery intensity of her emotions—a fury that seemed to consume her from the inside out.

Cody had heard word that the 501st would soon be joining their fleet. It was all part of some reckless scheme cooked up by Master Skywalker and his padawan, an ill-conceived plan to push their main ship through the blockade by sheer force. Cody could already feel the tension in the air, the impending chaos that would follow.

A part of him longed to be down in the hangar with his brothers-in-arms, to be facing that challenge alongside them. But instead, here he was, walking beside a woman who seemed ready to tear his head off at any moment. Her anger was palpable, radiating from her like a storm waiting to break. Maybe, just maybe, he'd catch up with Rex later—after Skywalker had barreled through the blockade, of course, and before his own men would be sent to the surface to deal with the aftermath.

Cody could already sense how intense the invasion was going to be. The Twi’lek had endured horrors that were almost beyond comprehension. The stories of Master Di’s fate, along with the remnants of the Republic's forces, painted a grim picture. Yet, somehow, this woman—this survivor—was still standing. It was a miracle in itself. If anyone could withstand such brutality and emerge on the other side, it was someone like her.

“We can slow down. There's no need to rush—”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, her voice cold and resolute. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, her breath labored, but she pushed forward without faltering. Cody didn’t press the issue. If she was stubborn enough to ignore the pain of her injury, who was he to challenge it?

They continued down the hallway, and soon they arrived at the door to the bridge. Cody braced himself for what he anticipated would be a tense confrontation—an explosive exchange with the sole survivor of the last deployment to Ryloth. He understood her anger. Waking up to find yourself discarded, abandoned off-world—it wasn’t a feeling he would wish on anyone. Still, part of him was curious: what made a natural-born, someone with a choice, willing to join this cause? He and his brothers had been bred for war, for duty. She, however, had chosen it.

The door slid open, and Cody spoke just as they entered, his voice steady.

“Generals—”

The woman remained silent at his side as they approached the holotable, where the strategy for the upcoming invasion was already unfolding.

“Cody, right on schedule.” General Kenobi acknowledged him, turning back to his data with a nod. “We’ll need to start preparing the men for deployment soon. Skywalker’s forces managed to breach the blockade, and they’re routing here now. Once they arrive, they’ll establish a protective command perimeter around the planet for the invasion.” Kenobi paused, his expression shifting as he turned toward the woman. With a brief gesture toward another officer, he resumed his transmission with the leadership on Coruscant.

Cody watched as several Jedi joined the conversation via hologram. Master Yoda’s image appeared, and the wise, ancient figure’s gaze landed on the woman standing beside him.

“Arrived, to provide intel on locating the Twi’lek survivors on Ryloth, I see.” Yoda’s voice, raspy but commanding, filled the room.

Cody saw the woman’s nostrils flare, the faintest sign of irritation. Yet, with a controlled breath, she nodded her acknowledgment.

“I can only provide information from before my...unwanted departure from the planet,” she began, but was swiftly cut off by Master Windu’s firm voice.

“The intel you offer will be sufficient, citizen. Any information you can provide might aid our forces in locating Cham’s fighters, especially since the final stand of the 303 was unsuccessful. Tragic, but unfortunately, that sentiment is becoming all too common in this conflict,” Windu continued, his tone flat and dismissive.

At that moment, Cody could feel the woman’s restraint snap, and he knew an eruption was imminent.

“Tragic? That’s all you have to say about it?” Her voice was sharp, laced with a fury that Cody could feel emanating from her. “I thought the Jedi were supposed to be compassionate?” She hissed, the words like a venomous strike. With a swift motion, she dropped her bag onto the durasteel floor of the bridge, the loud thud reverberating through the room, even reaching the transmission coms.

“We are,” Windu replied, seemingly unbothered. “As I was saying—”

“Your definition of compassion and mine are very different,” she cut him off, standing taller, her posture rigid. “What happened to those men—those brave men whom you left to die, I might add—was more than tragic. It was unimaginable.” The words were sharp, every syllable laced with grief and anger. Cody could see the tension in her shoulders, her jaw clenched as if she were holding back more than she could afford.

Mace Windu’s voice came again, but his words only fueled the fire. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re now working to bring freedom to Ryloth.”

“So now, this invasion is worth your attention.” she spat, her voice cold and full of contempt. “Not the countless rotations we spent pleading for reinforcements?” She slammed her palm down on the edge of the table, her eyes now locked on Kenobi as if seeking a Jedi with more understanding than Windu or the others on the Council. From Cody’s experience, Kenobi was certainly more empathetic, more willing to listen—but he doubted even his leader could calm the fury that radiated from this woman.

Kenobi’s tone softened, his voice steady and measured. “What happened on Ryloth was unfortunate, and I understand that what you and your forces endured was deeply upsetting. My condolences for the RAR forces you lost. Perhaps, by helping us locate the Twi’lek freedom fighters, their sacrifices may not have been in vain.”

The woman seemed to pause, her gaze lingering on Kenobi, as if weighing his words. For a brief moment, she appeared to consider his compassionate approach—but it wasn’t enough to quell her anger.

“Kenobi, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice tight but curious. Cody watched as Kenobi nodded. “When was the last time you actually spoke to your men?” she continued, her tone sharp. “I’m not talking about battle plans or troop logistics. I mean, when was the last time you took the time to ask how they’re doing? I know you Jedi have...a sense of things, and I don’t pretend to understand it. But I’m a doctor. I know when people are hurting, when they need more than just orders and missions. And I see that the Jedi could be doing more for the men who fight these battles for you. The RAR may be disbanded, and those of us like me cast aside, but the disregard your order has for these men—it’s obvious. And it angers me.”

Her words were like a punch to the gut, and Cody felt the weight of her anger and her pain. The raw emotion she carried in her voice made it clear: this wasn’t just about the battle, or the cause. It was about the men who fought, and the people who had been forgotten. She wasn’t angry at him, Cody realized. She was angry for him.

For a moment, silence settled over the room, as Kenobi and the others absorbed her words. Cody stood in stunned disbelief. He never imagined he would witness Obi-Wan—of all people—being the target of such a verbal barrage, let alone one that left his leader looking uncomfortably guilty. The transmission from Master Windu cut off abruptly, as if something in her words had struck a chord with the Jedi Master.

That’s a first, Cody thought to himself.

Next came the transmission from the Jedi at the temple. Master Yoda’s solemn image appeared, his expression heavy with thought. “Much to discuss, we shall have. Concerns for the clone army—an important notion. Hear them, you will, Obi-Wan,” he said, his voice calm yet grave, before disappearing from the feed as well.

Cody glanced around the bridge. It felt as though time had frozen, everyone holding their breath, waiting for Kenobi’s response. He knew exactly why. His brothers, like him, were curious to hear how their Jedi leader would address the woman’s accusations.

It wasn’t that Cody felt neglected—overall, he knew that most of the Jedi respected their ideas and military strategies. But, in some ways, she wasn’t wrong in her assessment. It was difficult to express these feelings without coming across as ungrateful. The Jedi, for all their wisdom and kindness, weren’t always attentive to the needs of the clones. They were kinder than the Kaminoans, certainly, but that didn’t mean they truly understood or took the time to listen to the men who fought and bled for them.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan said, carefully choosing his words to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Commander Cody, may I see your helmet?” she asked, turning toward him. Without hesitation, he nodded and passed the helmet to her, his fingers brushing the cool surface as her delicate hand circled the rim.

“Have you ever wondered how the armor these men wear truly functions? Or how impractical it can be?” she asked, holding the helmet out toward the Jedi. Cody was taken aback by her understanding. She seemed to grasp the very complaints he often muttered under his breath to the new troopers—that over time, they would adapt to the constricting armor and the limited visibility through the viewport.

All eyes turned to Kenobi as he took the helmet in his hands, turning it over thoughtfully before peering inside. He paused for a moment, then, without a word, slipped it over his head. Cody’s chest tightened. He couldn’t help but watch, his breath catching as Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged for an instant. The Jedi’s head tilted slightly to the right before he slowly removed the helmet, a solemn expression on his face.

“Excuse me, Sir,” she said, turning toward his Lieutenant. “What’s your name, Trooper?” Her voice, to Cody’s surprise, was calm—soothing even—something he had not expected from her given the way she’d stormed aboard the ship ready to reign hell.

“Uh, Waxer, Ma’am,” came the stammered response, as Cody watched Waxer blush bright red, his helmet tucked awkwardly under his arm. The trooper stood straighter, visibly flustered by her attention.

“Waxer, would you mind if I demonstrated some of the challenges I’ve noticed with the standard armor, from a medical perspective?” Her tone was respectful, almost measured. Cody’s brow furrowed. He’d never experienced anyone openly seeking consent before touching his men. Even the rare doctors who weren’t his brothers in arms simply did what they had to without question. Not that he minded—their intent was always to help—but there was something about the way she asked that felt different, more deliberate, and somehow more considerate.

Waxer nodded, his face still flushed but giving a stiff acknowledgment. All around them, the rest of the troopers on the bridge seemed to lean in, their attention drawn to the unexpected display.

With quiet confidence, she reached forward and gently lifted Waxer’s arm, showing the Jedi where the armor's design created limitations in movement.

“Now, as you can see here,” she continued, her voice unwavering, “the gap between the codpiece and the thigh armor is so minimal that if you try to move your leg too far, you risk cutting off circulation or causing discomfort. It’s a design flaw that’s hard to overlook.”

She then lifted his leg with one hand, her fingers careful around the back of his knee, and Waxer’s eyes widened. Cody, who had been watching intently, had to suppress a laugh. He could see the poor trooper’s discomfort—this close to his manhood, and she, so composed, going about her demonstration like it was nothing.

Cody could barely contain himself, but he knew better than to let the laughter slip. Instead, he focused on her point, silently agreeing with the doctor. She was showing, not just telling, and doing so in a way that drew every eye on the bridge. There was no mistaking that her expertise was being absorbed by every man in the room, even if her demonstration was a little...uncomfortable for the trooper involved. The men had limited experiences with women, especially one this pretty. Cody internally realized this was going to be the talk of their platoon for ages. 

“Waxer, could you explain how physically taxing the armor becomes during extended periods of wear, particularly when sitting down?” she asked, gently lowering his leg. Obi-Wan’s gaze shifted toward his trooper, and Cody couldn’t help but watch in anticipation. It wasn’t quite an interrogation, but he knew the woman’s intentions were for the benefit of the men. Despite understanding that, he was grateful she hadn’t singled him out, instead choosing to address his Lieutenant.

“It’s not unbearable, Ma’am,” Waxer replied, his voice awkward, his hand reaching to the back of his neck as though uncomfortable with the attention.

“But the strain becomes tiresome, doesn’t it? Surely something lighter would improve your functionality,” she pressed, her eyes encouraging him to speak freely, to be honest.

“It does get heavy, especially at the end of a long day. Sitting is painful, yes,” Waxer admitted quietly, the weariness in his voice unmistakable.

Obi-Wan’s expression remained unreadable, though Cody could tell he was considering her words with an intensity he rarely showed. The woman’s pace slowed, the point seemingly made. She turned toward Obi-Wan, her tone becoming more solemn.

“I know the Senate views this army as little more than a tool, a collection of military assets,” she said, her voice steady but laced with a deep sadness. “But they are men. They deserve respect. They deserve someone who will listen to their concerns without the threat of decommissioning. I’ve spent enough time with them to understand that they rarely voice complaints, and certainly not to the Jedi.” Her words trailed off, her thoughts seemingly taking her to a darker place for a moment.

Cody hadn’t met the clones she’d served with, but he’d heard whispers of their final stand. The conditions on Ryloth had been so dire that the Senate had ordered all RAR workers off the field, dissolving their contracts with frightening swiftness. He didn’t want to dwell on the horrors she’d been forced to endure, but a part of him felt a warmth in his chest at the concern she expressed. She might have been removed from the conflict, but something in her wanted to ensure that, in the end, something good was done for the men she had served alongside. He could respect that, perhaps even understand it better than he’d like to admit.

“Doctor,” Obi-Wan said, his voice calm, waiting for her to properly introduce herself as she repositioned herself beside Cody at the table.

“Killough,” she replied, her voice cool. “Though I’ve neglected that surname for so long to avoid unwanted associations… You may call me Mae.” Her words hung in the air, a subtle hint of something deeper beneath the surface. Cody recalled the name she’d given him in the hangar. It wasn’t the same name, he was certain of it. For a moment, he couldn’t place where he’d heard it before, but the look on the General’s face told him it was significant. There was an unspoken conversation that passed between Mae and Obi-Wan, something quiet yet powerful, before the tension seemed to dissipate as quickly as it had come.

“I see,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, his gaze unwavering. “The Jedi do not hold attachment to their origins, only to who we become. A sentiment we share.” He paused, stroking his beard for a moment before continuing. “Well, Mae, if you prepare a report, I’d be more than willing to share it with the Council—and perhaps with a contact of mine in the Senate. We’ll see what can be done.”

Mae said nothing at first, her eyes scanning the holographic map displayed before them, detailing the planet’s surface. She seemed deep in thought, her mind focused. Finally, she spoke again, her voice measured. “Cham’s forces were fleeing through the canyons, hoping to reach a set of caves to hide from the Separatists. They were traveling with women and children. I wasn’t told the exact location, but…” She zoomed in on a quadrant, her finger tracing a specific area. “I believe they were near this sector.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “Thank you. Compassion is in rare supply these days. Your concerns will be passed along, Doctor.” He hesitated for a moment, his words softening. “And, I offer my condolences for the loss of your comrades. May this mission we are about to undertake bring honor to their sacrifice.”

Mae—Cody would need to adjust to that name now—bent down, retrieving something from her small bag. She set it gently on the table in front of them. “My personal reports,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “If that is all, I’ll be on my way. I believe the transport I arrived on will soon be departing for Coruscant. Seeing as my services are no longer required…” Her voice held a trace of irritation now, the faintest venom creeping into her words at the implication of being dismissed.

“Cody, would you ensure the doctor makes it to the shuttle?” Kenobi asked, his attention quickly drawn to a communication officer who had resumed his work after receiving transmissions from Skywalker's fleet.

Cody nodded, and this time, as he bent down to grab the woman’s bag, she made no move to stop him. They walked in silence toward the lift, the hum of the station echoing around them. As the door slid shut, Cody adjusted the weight of the helmet under his arm.

"Thank you," he said quietly after a moment. It wasn’t much, but the weight of what she’d done lingered in the air between them. She had openly criticized both the Jedi and the Senate on behalf of the clone army. It was the kind of conversation Cody had heard whispered in the barracks or out on the planet's surface with his brothers, but never voiced to those who could actually bring about change. The briefing he’d received before heading to fetch her had made it clear that she was a senior officer in the now disbanded organization. A voice like hers carried weight, and to wield that power in their favor was a debt Cody knew he could never repay.

“No need, Commander,” she replied with a soft shake of her head. “You and your men do more than anyone could ask. A simple conversation from me won’t change that fact, but…” She paused, her gaze dropping to the floor as she drew in a labored breath. “If I can make it any easier, it’s a privilege.”

“Not many Natborns would say that,” he remarked after a moment, his voice thoughtful.

“Well, I think that’s because the Republic has done its best to keep us apart,” she said, her tone tinged with frustration. “It’s easier to dehumanize clones into just military assets when the citizens only see you at a distance.” Her eyes met his, and Cody could tell she didn’t share that perspective herself, though she understood it all too well.

“I suppose,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with the resignation he’d grown so familiar with. “But this is what we were created for. I guess it’s understandable why people might assume that’s all we are.”

“I still believe,” she said softly, her voice steady but firm, “just as your Jedi believes, that we possess an element of choice. Our origins do not define us. That’s true for anyone who lives, breathes, and has a beating heart—like you and me.” Her words lingered between them as the lift doors opened, and they stepped out into the quiet, sterile hallway. Together, they walked in silence, the soft echo of their footsteps the only sound as they made their way toward the hangar.

The hum of activity in the hangar grew louder as they approached. Inside, the air was thick with the rush of preparation: transports lined up in rows, engines warming, the buzz of soldiers and mechanics alike moving in swift, practiced coordination. And then there was the unmistakable presence of blue and white plastoid armor, troopers milling about, readying for the battle ahead. General Skywalker’s forces had arrived, and the wheels of the invasion were beginning to turn.

Cody paused for a moment as they entered the hangar, his eyes scanning the bustling scene. It was clear that the next phase of their mission was about to begin—the invasion of Ryloth was imminent. Yet, amidst the whirlwind of activity, this brief, unexpected reprieve felt like a stolen moment, fragile and fleeting.

There was something about the chaos around him, the tension of the impending battle, that made this silence between him and Mae feel even more significant. For a moment, it was as if time had slowed, and the weight of her words settled in.

As they approached the transport heading back to the capital, Mae reached out a hand for the bag slung over his shoulder. Without a word, Cody passed it to her, the exchange quiet and familiar.

“Well, Commander,” she said, standing at the bottom of the ramp, her gaze meeting his. “I wish you well with your invasion.”

“Thank you,” Cody replied, his voice low. He hesitated, his curiosity getting the better of him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your plans now?”

He knew she no longer had a contract with the military, and without steady employment, life in the heart of the Republic would surely be difficult. The expense of it all—well, he couldn’t imagine what it would take to navigate that world. But then again, that kind of resourcefulness was something that still felt like a foreign concept to him.

Mae took a moment to adjust the strap of her bag, her eyes momentarily distant. “I might try to find some backwater planet, somewhere far from the conflict.” She sighed, a soft, almost melancholic sound. “I don’t regret helping in this war, not for a second, but...” She paused, her words trailing off for a moment before continuing, her voice quieter. “It would be nice to return to my original purpose—to heal. I think I’ve seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime.”

There was an unmistakable heaviness in her tone, a quiet resignation that spoke volumes about the toll the war had taken on her. Cody couldn’t help but sense the depth of her weariness, as though the weight of all she had witnessed had become too much to carry any longer.

“I think that sounds like a good idea, Doctor. Take care of yourself,” Cody said, his gaze following Mae as she nodded and began walking up the ramp. She didn’t speak another word on the matter, and before long, she disappeared into the transport. For a brief moment, Cody let the events of the past few hours linger in his mind, reflecting on her words, her actions, and the unspoken understanding that had passed between them.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a sharp knock on his shoulder armor broke his reverie. He turned to find Rex standing beside him, a grin spreading across his face.

“Who was that?” Rex asked, his voice laced with curiosity, his head catching the light of the hanger in his short blond hair as he nodded his head in her direction. “And what’s all this comm chatter saying Kenobi and Windu got yelled at by a civvie? Was that the woman the boys won’t stop talking about?”

Cody should have known Rex would be nearby, especially with the arrival of his men. The camaraderie between them ran deep, forged in the heat of countless battles, but the closeness they shared was also born from years of working side by side. Rex had a way of sensing when something was up, and today was no different.

“Yes, she was the one,” Cody replied, his voice thoughtful as he watched Rex’s mischievous brown eyes study him closely. He knew his friend would want a full debrief at some point, but right now wasn’t the time. So instead, Cody decided to give him a taste of the story, without diving too deep. “But, it was… well, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen. An absolute spitfire, that woman.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh? Does the Commander have a little crush?” Before Cody could respond, Rex gave him a playful shove, his laughter echoing around them.

Cody rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar weight of Rex’s teasing. “Not likely. We all know you’re the one with a thing for redheads,” he shot back with a smirk, his tone just as playful.

Rex shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed. “Didn’t get a good enough look at her. Now, spill,” he demanded, nudging Cody with his elbow as they started walking back toward the bridge. “What happened? You’re holding out on me.”

Cody sighed, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. He knew better than to resist Rex’s curiosity. “Fine,” he relented, his voice lowering slightly. “She spoke up for us, Rex. For the clones. In front of Kenobi and the other Jedi. She—” He paused, considering how to describe Mae’s presence, the impact she’d had in such a short time. “She didn’t hold back. She said things none of us ever would. Or could.”

Rex’s eyes widened a little, though his grin never faltered. “A civilian? Getting in their faces like that?” He shook his head in disbelief, clearly impressed. “I gotta meet this woman.”

As they walked, the noise of the hangar and the looming preparations for war seemed to fade into the background. The weight of the upcoming battle would soon return, but for now, Cody allowed himself a moment of quiet gratitude.

For all the pain and chaos they’d been through, there had been something almost... refreshing about Mae. She’d spoken on their behalf—spoken truths that were often ignored. In the midst of the war machine, she’d reminded him that there were still those who saw them as something more than just soldiers. He’d never forget that.

“Maybe you will,” Cody said, his voice quieter now as they neared the bridge. “Maybe you will, Vod.”

[legacygirlingreen]

The Friend Date - Introduction

"The Setup Nobody Wanted"

Summary: Rex gets a call which sets a plan into motion...

Word Count: 3,500 of 71,000

Warnings: Some very MILD angst & self doubt

The Friend Date Masterlist | Masterlist | Next

Rex stood before the mirror, his skin still warm from the shower, droplets of water tracing down his broad, tanned chest. The room was thick with the steamy warmth, the air heavy with the lingering scent of soap and dampness. The faint hum of the exhaust vent in the ship’s fresher barely cut through the stillness. His hands were steady, but his mind was anything but.

With a soft hiss, he ran his fingers over his jawline, the rough, stubbled texture against his skin a sharp contrast to the smoothness of his damp fingertips. His eyes lingered on his reflection for a moment. The buzzed blonde hair, wet and clinging to his scalp, the dark brown eyes that stared back at him, almost empty, were lost in thought. He reached for the razor. The metal handle felt cool, almost soothing, as it slipped easily into his grip. The weight of it was familiar, reassuring, but something about the stillness of the moment left him feeling oddly distant.

He’d performed this ritual countless times during the war. The feeling of facial hair scraping against the inside of his helmet, digging into his skin under the harsh weight of the bucket, was an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t stand. It gnawed at him like a constant itch, impossible to ignore. There was something about the coarse bristles beneath the helmet that made his skin crawl. He’d made a promise to himself early on—he would never allow it. The moment he could, the razor would come out, cutting through the stubble with the precision that gave him a small sense of control in an otherwise chaotic world.

It wasn’t just the discomfort of unshaven skin under armor that bothered him. It was the idea of losing control over something so simple. He preferred to be clean-cut, neat, and sharp—an anomaly among his brothers, many of whom had little concern for their appearance, letting their beards grow wild and untamed. But Rex had always felt that maintaining order, even in the smallest of ways, kept his mind clear, his focus sharp. It was a rhythm he understood, a form of discipline amid the chaos of battle.

The quiet lulls of war, the rare moments when the gunfire and shouts faded into silence, had always been filled with the rhythmic scrape of the razor against his face. Each swipe was a small, grounding gesture. The sound was oddly melodic in its simplicity, the kind of steady noise that filled the void when nothing else seemed to. In those fleeting moments, as the blade moved across his skin, it felt like he was carving out a fragment of peace for himself—if only for a few minutes.

He lifted the razor, bringing it to the right side of his face, and the first stroke was a low, almost meditative sound—the sharp scrap of metal against the coarse stubble, a subtle whoosh as the blade moved with practiced ease. His face tightened, the skin tugging slightly as the blade followed the natural curve of his jaw, dragging over the coarse, dark stubble that had accumulated there overnight. He could feel the drag of the razor as it cut through the whiskers, leaving a path of smooth skin in its wake. The soft friction vibrated through his fingertips, a sensation that was oddly satisfying in its precision.

Kriff, I need to focus.

But it was impossible. The thoughts kept spiraling, relentless, just as the razor kept gliding against his skin, its edge catching the light and reflecting it briefly as it passed. Another swipe, and he was closer to his chin. His grip on the razor tightened as he pulled it upward, the metal brushing harshly against his jawline, but it felt necessary, like an anchor to the ground he couldn’t quite hold on to.

Why did I do it?

The razor moved again, smooth, cutting cleanly through the stubble with a comforting rhythm. The sensation was nearly meditative, the blade doing its work without resistance. But his mind, like the rough patches of stubble, refused to be tamed. It wandered. A flash of memory, a sudden jolt of confusion—Mae’s voice, tired, and frustrated. Her words, how she’d sounded when she called. The razor scraped across his skin once more, and his grip faltered for a split second as he processed the memory.

It hadn’t taken long—no time at all, really—for everything to slip from his hands. One moment, he was knee-deep in the details of his work, coordinating messages, tracking leads, trying to keep everything from falling apart—and the next, he was standing here, shaving in the middle of what should’ve been a packed day. The razor slid easily along the curve of his chin, but his thoughts resisted. Dropping everything... for something so frivolous? Something so unnecessary.

The blade scraped again, a sharp sound in the quiet, slicing through his concentration with a precision that felt almost invasive. His eyes darkened slightly in the mirror, as if searching for an answer that was lost somewhere in the reflection staring back at him.

But that voice, the way Mae had said his name… it had cracked something open inside him. Something vulnerable. Something real. And damn it, he hadn’t been able to resist it.

Get your head in the game, Rex.

The razor caught again, this time on a patch of stubborn stubble just under his lower lip. He hissed through his teeth, the tiny sting jolting him back into his body. A sharp tug. Another slight burn. He breathed through it, refusing to let the discomfort distract him further, but it didn't matter. His mind was already somewhere else, slipping away like the razor on his skin.

Frivolous. Yeah, that’s the word for it.

But that didn’t explain what had happened earlier. Mae had sounded so damn dejected, like something had just broken her. There had been a note of need in her voice. She wasn’t just asking for help; she was truly just venting. But that vexation she felt pushed something within him.

Another stroke. The razor moved upward, catching the grain of his upper lip, and the blade made an almost satisfying snick as it sliced through. The tug was firm, pulling against the stubble in a way that reminded him of the tension between them.

You could’ve just turned a blind eye…

He could’ve walked away. Could’ve stayed focused, ignored the call, and convinced himself it didn’t matter. It was just another mission, another task in a sea of distractions. But something—someone—had drawn him in. The pull was undeniable, a magnetic force he couldn’t ignore. And then there was the memory of his recent flight, the solitude of the fresher, alone with his thoughts. The guilt. The shame. It was almost suffocating. But under that weight, there was something else—a quiet, hidden pleasure, too subtle to be dismissed, too real to forget.

He’d fantasized about her. 

Rex knew he had crossed a line. There was no denying it. He had stepped into a territory that wasn’t his to claim. But his impulsive, relentless mind had acted faster than his better judgment. He had allowed himself to be swept up, chasing an impulse that was more instinct than reason. Now, here he was—on a ship, alone, half-dressed, and standing in the fresher, shaving his face as if nothing had changed. His plan had been clear: stay distant, remain aloof, avoid getting tangled up in this situation. Yet, in the blink of an eye, his carefully constructed boundaries had flown out the airlock.

The moment she’d called him, wanting to vent about the mess that had been forced upon her—a group date with a man who’d been far less than enthusiastic about her presence—his carefully laid plans shattered. He could’ve dismissed it, could’ve convinced himself that it wasn’t his problem, but he hadn’t. Instead, he found himself moving, dropping everything, as if her distress had become his mission to fix.

It wasn’t just the situation that bothered him; it was the man. Any man would’ve put him on edge, made him feel like he needed to stake a claim, to protect her from whatever bullshit he assumed would follow. But Crosshair? The sniper, with his sharp eyes and even sharper edge, made his blood boil in ways Rex couldn’t explain. For all of Crosshair’s few redeeming qualities, there was something about him—something about the way he moved through the world with that cold indifference—that made Rex see red. And now, knowing that Crosshair, the recently single man, was cozying up to someone Rex held dear, made his stomach twist in a knot of jealousy he wasn’t used to feeling.

What if she started seeing him in a different light? What if the distance Rex had worked so hard to maintain, the cold walls he’d built between himself and those around him, were eroded by a quiet word, a glance, or a touch? Crosshair had the proximity, the ease with which he could slip into Mae’s life. That blend of quiet confidence, sardonic humor, and natural swagger—it was enough to make anyone take notice.

And then there was the complicating factor of Tech, Crosshair’s brother, already close to Mae. It was a dangerous combination, and Rex knew it. He could see the pieces aligning in ways that made him feel sick to his stomach—like the stars themselves had conspired to form a picture of what he didn’t want to see. What if Mae began to grow closer to Crosshair? What if she started looking at him in a way that Rex couldn’t bear?

The thought made his chest tighten, a dull ache spreading through his ribcage. And as much as he hated that he was letting this affect him, he couldn’t help it. He hated that he’d felt so compelled to drop everything, to make multiple comms, to intervene.

He had no claim to Mae’s affections, no right to rush in and try to fix something that wasn’t his to fix. Sure, she spent hours on the comm with him, laughing, sharing things she hadn’t told anyone else. She made him feel something—something real—that he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he’d been there for her when her spirit seemed to be crumbling, offering support when she let her guard down. But at the end of the day, he had no claim to her heart.

And yet, in the quiet moments between breaths, in the space where he let his mind wander, he couldn’t stop the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wanted that claim. More than he cared to admit.

Rex couldn’t help but feel completely pathetic for even dialing the man’s number. The moment Crosshair answered, his indifference was palpable, dripping from his voice as he coldly demanded to know why Rex was bothering him. But what really stung was the mocking snicker that followed, a bitter laugh that echoed through the line when Rex explained his dilemma. As if the situation were some kind of joke to Crosshair. And the worst part? Despite everything, Crosshair had actually agreed to help him. Not only that, but he’d done so with an unsettling sense of ease, almost as if Rex’s concerns didn’t matter at all. It was as though Crosshair’s own motivations were so pure, so untainted, that the weight of Rex’s problems was barely a blip on his radar.

Rex stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection for a moment before reaching for the bottle of aftershave. The cool liquid sloshed in his hand, its sharp scent hitting his nostrils before he even applied it. He hesitated for just a second—he knew the sting was coming. As he splashed it on, the burn was instant and intense, crawling across his skin like a thousand tiny needles, making him flinch despite knowing it would pass. The sharpness of it contrasted with the quiet of the room, as if his body was reacting to something far more painful than just the aftershave. He gritted his teeth through the sensation, waiting for it to subside. Once the sting faded into a tingling warmth, he wiped his hands on the towel and turned away from the mirror.

With a sigh, Rex walked over to his clothes laid out on the bed. The aftershave’s burn still lingered on his skin, but he didn’t mind—he was used to discomfort. There was always something to power through. He set to work, slipping into borrowed clothes, his mind already drifting back to the conversation with Mae.

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“It’s just so embarrassing, Rex,” she groaned, her fingers digging into her temples as she let out a frustrated sigh. Rex winced at the sight, the tension in the air almost suffocating as he silently cursed himself for being unable to do anything to ease her discomfort.

“I don’t—”

“They’re forcing him into this, Rex,” she cut him off, her voice thick with frustration. “I get it—I might not be the most desirable choice. Hell, he’s practically obsessed with Leena’s twin, and I can’t compete with that. But to force him into this, just because everyone’s afraid I’ll end up some bitter, lonely old spinster? Is that really what they think of me? Am I really that horrible?”

The question hung in the air, but before Rex could respond, she slammed her forehead down onto her desk with a defeated thud. Her curls, which had once been neatly clipped back, now bounced free, escaping their confines in a chaotic mess as the clip gave way. Rex couldn’t help but stare for a moment, the sight of her vulnerable, frustrated, and raw tugging at something deep inside him. He couldn’t fix this—he knew that—but he hated seeing her like this, so tangled in insecurities she couldn’t shake.

Rex sat there for a moment, weighing her words carefully, his concern deepening. The idea of her going on a "friend date," especially one that was clearly forced, didn’t sit right with him. He knew her well enough to see how much this was weighing on her. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a touch of worry.

“Is it really worth it? I mean, if he doesn’t want to be there, and everyone’s just pushing you into this... Why bother?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and for a brief moment, Rex saw the exhaustion in them—the subtle tension that had been building inside her for far too long. She let out a long, tired sigh, running a hand through her hair before slumping back in her chair, clearly drained.

“I don’t know, Rex. I really don’t. It’s just… everything’s been so much lately. I get that they’re trying to help, but it feels like they’re treating me like I’m broken. Like I’m this fragile thing that can’t function unless I have someone with me. And now they’re forcing him into this, like it’s some sort of charity case.” She paused, staring at the desk in front of her, her fingers tracing the surface as if trying to ground herself. “It’s humiliating.”

Rex could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her whole body seemed to slump under the weight of it all. He could almost feel her mental state fraying, her frustration and confusion building on top of one another. He had seen her handle tough situations before, but this was different. This wasn’t about facing something external—this was about the pressure others were putting on her, and it was starting to take a toll.

Before Rex could respond, the shrill beeping of his alarm system cut through the moment, signaling an incoming transmission on a different comm channel that demanded his immediate attention. For a brief, fleeting second, he considered ignoring it—her voice, laced with that quiet sadness, seemed more important. But the moment was slipping away, and he could feel her unease as she hurriedly tried to end the conversation.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, her tone an odd mixture of forced cheer and reluctance. “You’re a busy guy. Certainly too busy for something so ridiculous.”

Rex opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could get a word in.

“I have to get back to work anyways,” Mae continued, her words rushing out as if she were desperate to convince herself just as much as him.

“But you—” Rex started, trying to push back, to find some way to keep her from brushing it off so easily.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she rambled, her voice becoming more distant as though she were already retreating into herself, putting up a wall to protect whatever was left of her composure.

“Mae,” Rex said, his voice quieter but more insistent. His fingers pinched the center of his brow, the weight of everything pressing on him. She hadn’t even waited for him to finish before she fell back into her usual deflection.

There was a pause. She didn’t respond immediately, and Rex let out a heavy sigh, realizing that this conversation needed to go a bit deeper than the surface. His frustration gave way to a calm, but resolute tone as he spoke again.

“Mae, don’t do this. You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not. I can hear it in your voice.” He leaned back in his chair, willing himself to stay composed, but the ache in his chest was undeniable. He couldn’t help but feel the growing distance between them, the way she was pulling away, as if bracing herself for something she couldn’t control.

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, Rex wondered if she had already disconnected, retreating further into her quiet storm. Then, finally, her voice returned, softer this time, though still guarded.

“Rex, please... I just—” Mae’s voice broke, the hesitation in her words so palpable it sent a tight knot forming in Rex’s chest. She paused, as if gathering what little strength she had left, before she continued. “I don’t want to drag you into this. It’s my mess, not yours.”

Her words hit him like a hammer. Rex could feel the weight of her refusal, the unspoken plea for distance, and it gnawed at him. He knew Mae well enough to understand what she was really saying: I’m fine, don’t worry about me. But it wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. Mae had always carried the weight of her world alone, shouldering everything without a word, never allowing anyone to get too close to the chaos beneath her calm exterior. And Rex hated it.

“Mae,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, like a soft anchor in a turbulent sea. “This isn’t something you need to carry on your own.”

Her response was immediate, flat, as if she had prepared for this moment and knew exactly how to shut him out. “Rex,” she said, a touch of bitterness creeping into her tone, “it’s easy for you to say when you’re so far removed from all of this. When you’ve got everything together.”

Her words stung, but Rex knew they weren’t meant for him—they were a defense, a shield she used to protect herself from the vulnerability she feared so much.

She continued, her voice tightening, almost reluctant to continue but unable to stop. “It’s not a crime to want companionship, Rex. Not even for one night. Even if it’s... purely out of obligation. So, I’ll swallow my pride, alright? Crosshair’s been kind enough to take one for the team and put up with me. End of story.” She let out a short, shaky breath, her words slipping out faster now, a cascade of defense and self-protection. “You better get that comm—”

The transmission cut off abruptly, leaving Rex with nothing but the silence between them, and the faint echo of her last words hanging in the air. He stared at the comm for a moment, his heart sinking into his stomach. Her voice—distant, defensive, almost ashamed—had torn through him with the force of a thousand unspoken feelings. Rex knew all too well the pain she was hiding, the way she kept it buried deep, never letting anyone truly see the extent of her suffering.

And it hurt him. It hurt him more than he could explain.

She was so determined to protect him, but it wasn’t his protection she needed. It was her own.

Cursing under his breath, Rex pressed the comm button again, trying to steady the breath that felt suddenly too heavy in his lungs. He wanted to shout, to demand she stop shutting him out. But instead, he let the soft hum of the comm fill the silence, his thoughts swirling like a storm in his mind. He had seen Mae break before, even if only for a second, and every time she’d managed to piece herself back together with painful, stubborn grace.

But this time, he wasn’t about to let her put those pieces back alone.

He sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily on his shoulders. With one last glance at the blank comm screen, Rex pressed the button, and Echo’s voice crackled through.

"Rex? What's going on? Need backup?"

Rex’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm, steady—an anchor in the storm. "Actually a favor if you’ve got a sec-”