Star Wars the Clone Wars - One shots

Fizz the season

Anakin wouldn't have called himself a strict teacher.

Firm, of course.

He would do whatever it took to make sure Ahsoka survived the war. Every time she disobeyed an order, he lectured her about the importance of following the chain of command. If she got wounded by trying to be a hero, he would scold her as he tended to her injuries.

He was protective, but he wasn't strict.

Anakin didn't mind if Ahsoka missed curfew, assuming she called to let him know that she was safe. He turned a blind eye if she'd rather stay in bed than attend her classes after a long mission.

He tried his best to follow the golden rule of showing her the same amount of respect that she showed him.

Anakin didn't think of himself as the 'totally chilled' Master, but he couldn't help but feel smug when he overheard Ahsoka's friends whisper how lucky she was to have a teacher who didn't enforce any sort of dictatorship over her.

For the most part, the Jedi Council didn't mind his laidback attitude to mentoring. As long as they consistently won against the Separatists in battle, they didn't care if Ahsoka had a silly nickname for him and he would sometimes let her have ice cream right before bed.

But if Master Windu knew what he was permitting his student to do now, Anakin would definitely be having a meeting the next morning.

Ahsoka was in fits of giggles, half on her chair and half on Padmé's. His wife was almost as drunk, her cheeks as red as the wine they had been sharing together.

The Jedi had a rather odd approach to their rules regarding alcohol.

It was technically prohibited, but every General had a small whiskey flask that had been gifted to them by the Council. It was well-known that Yoda was fond of a shandy at least once a week.

Hell, even Windu had once fallen asleep in a Council session after having too much wine at a dinner party the night before.

But when it came to Padawans, the rules were clear. Besides a few select species with differing maturity rates, Apprentices weren't supposed to even sip alcohol until they were eighteen, which was the legal age on Coruscant.

And Ahsoka was two years short of that.

He should've stopped her after one glass but seeing her face light up when Padmé reached for the bottle had been too heart-wrenching for him to intervene.

It wasn't like they were at some shady bar or 79s.

Obi-Wan still shook his head in disapproval whenever Ahsoka mentioned the night that Echo and Fives took her to the clone bar. Rex had been there as well, so he prevented Ahsoka from going near anything that wasn't juice or soda, but Obi-Wan said it was the principle.

Tonight wasn't like that at all.

Padmé had invited them to a Senatorial dinner. She'd enticed them by promising that neither Jedi would have to wear formal clothes and could ditch the party whenever they fancied.

It was currently midnight, and they were some of the last people inside the banquet room.

Besides them, a Rodian politician was passed out in his chair, and a short human man was trying to organise a team of cleaning droids. Everyone else had left, whether that was to return home or go to one of the many after-parties.

Their trio had stayed, initially wanting to wait for the foot traffic to clear, but then Padmé suggested they open another bottle of fizzy, red wine.

Ahsoka was only slightly tipsy at that point, now she was bordering on blackout drunk. The two women had polished off another whole bottle together and were halfway through their second.