It's Commander Tano, Not Padawan

Chapter 7

She could feel her montrals darkened in a mixture of embarrassment and... something else she wasn't quite ready to name.

Arms still encircling his neck, Ahsoka slightly raised her head to look at him, as he had pulled away from leaning directly on her montrals. What took her aback was the way his face was totally at ease, eyes relaxed and closed, as if this situation wasn't completely stepping over personal lines for him.

Ahsoka had never seen an expression exactly like it before on Rex.

Then he had to ruin the moment.

Not that they were having a moment.

"Got something on my face, Commander?"

Her montrals, lekku, and skin flushed again, this time solely in discomfiture at having been caught – though, now that she thought about, it wasn't like she was exactly being stealthy – staring at him.

"Shut it, Rex," she shot back, not even bothering to deny it.

He grumbled a smile without even opening his eyes. "With pleasure."

Without a warning, he rolled back over on his side, keeping her close to him. His face was now between the two tips of her head as she was snug, warm, and, above all, protected in his arms. "Sleep well, Ahsoka."

She smiled to herself, not questioning his actions. "'Night, Rexter."

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This time, it was Rex who woke up first. One of his favorite things about being on leave was – beyond not getting shot at on a consistent basis – not having to get up at the crack of dawn or alternating hours with his brothers so someone was always on guard.

So, when his eyes slowly fluttered open and he once again became hyperaware of the total lack of space between them, it was when he wanted to. Rex didn't want to move too much for fear of waking her up so he just sighed contently.

It was then that his mind flashed back to Cut, out of all things, with his wife and their children. The peace that even he, a clone, could tell surrounded the deserter in his new, chosen life.

He thought about what he and Ahsoka might be if he was just a regular man and she was just a regular woman. There would be no regs, no clankers, maybe only a handful of brothers instead of millions, no accelerated aging, no nightmares.

And, just for a snippet in time, did Rex picture it. One arm around Ahsoka, the other holding a little baby girl with montrals and big blue eyes like her mother, beautiful and strong.

But then he looked at the ex-Jedi sleeping peacefully, his Ahsoka, and he knew he wouldn't trade the version he had of her for the galaxy.

"Rex." He froze. He hadn't even detected she had woken up.

"Yes?" His voice husky. Rex still had yet to figured out exactly what the Force allowed Jedi to pick up on, but he sure hoped she hadn't heard a single one of his musings.

"What does cyar'ika mean?"

Of course, that had to be the question that started his morning. "Um... great question." How was he supposed to get out of this one?

"One that you're going to answer." It wasn't an order, just a friendly threat.

He tried, he really did, to sound firm. "Er, uh, no, sir. I don't think I will."

She lazily opened an eye to look up at him. "Really?" The edge in her voice was smooth and sweet, and if it wasn't for the fact that he knew her too well, it would have almost sounded causal.