Written for patientalien's 27th birthday. Summary: Ahsoka's not a girl, not yet a woman. Set during season three of the "Clone Wars," around the debut of Ahsoka's new look, but does not contain any spoilers. Rated PG.


The Change


It wasn't often that Obi-Wan saw Anakin these days. With the Clone Wars raging, and with his former Padawan currently training a Padawan himself, their missions rarely coincided. It was strange for them to be inhabiting the same apartment, even just for a weekend leave, on Coruscant. As Obi-Wan watched Anakin tromp around the small living space in his heavy boots like a caged animal while he himself studied a datapad from his favorite chair, however, he realized that some things would never change.

Even so, it was strange that Anakin didn't have his apprentice in tow; often, she even accompanied him on visits to 500 Republica. "Where is Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan queried politely. Privately, he hoped she had a bit more luck in her adolescence than Anakin did at making friends with her fellow Padawans. He pictured Ahsoka bedecked in the cheap, brightly colored plastisteel bracelets that seemed to be all the rage with the younger generation as of late and smiled to himself.

Anakin, on the other hand, looked extremely put upon, like he'd just stepped in something unpleasant. "She's ... around," he said cautiously, and that's when Obi-Wan realized his disgust was directed at Ahsoka.

"What's going on with your Padawan?"

Anakin sighed. "She just, uh. She's going through ... the change," he finally muttered. When Obi-Wan's furrowed brow was his only response, he rolled his eyes. "You know, the change," he repeated. "She's becomin' a woman, Master."

"Oh." Obi-Wan smiled. "And that bothers you?"

Anakin sulked. "I just wish she'd do it somewhere else. It's gross."

"It's not gross," Obi-Wan admonished lightly, shaking his head for good measure. "It's perfectly natural, Anakin. Why, when YOU were going through puberty-"

"I never did that," Anakin interrupted. Suddenly, Obi-Wan's datapad was being yanked from his hands. "Come on, I'll show you."


Standing in front of Ahsoka's doorway in the Padawan dormitories felt somewhat ominous; even more so when Anakin knocked and Obi-Wan could hear scuffling on the other side. "Go 'way," came Ahsoka's muffled reply. "Busy."

"Snips," Anakin called, "It's Master Obi-Wan and I. Open up."

"Fine," Ahsoka sighed, sounding aggravated. When she finally pulled open the door, Obi-Wan focused on looking polite. He hadn't seen Ahsoka for several months, and the time away had indeed elicited changes in her. She was at least a couple of inches taller, her small frame beginning to transform in ways common to her species. In the same vein, her head-tails, a Togruta's most prized possession, were longer and curlier than Obi-Wan remembered. Those were the flattering changes; Obi-Wan tried to concentrate on them rather than on the acne, the somewhat unfortunate weight gain around her middle, or the bizarre odor emanating from her.

Unfortunately, Anakin was nary so tactful. "What's that smell?" he asked, waving his hand in front of his nose.

Ahsoka squinted unhappily. "I'm using a new deodorant," she snapped. "The old one doesn't work anymore. I guess my body chemistry's changed."

"Yeah, it has," Anakin exclaimed, still waving his hand. "Ugh, remind me not to stand downwind of you during our next mission, Snips."

Obi-Wan wasn't surprised when the door was slammed in their faces.


Reluctantly, Anakin dragged Ahsoka with him to Padme's apartment, but only because Padme had comm'd him several times reminding him to do so. As Ahsoka walked a few paces in front of him and rang Padme's doorbell, he fixated on her bacne. "Gross," he whispered.

Padme ushered them inside, hugging Ahsoka as she was wont to do, albeit perhaps a bit more gingerly than usual. Unlike Anakin, she was too polite to say anything about the Togruta's odor or her zit-laden T-zone; also, she was better at deflecting her distaste into more charitable avenues. "Oh, Ahsoka," she exclaimed, looking down at her feet, no longer bedecked in her usual Jedi footwear. "Where are your boots?"

"They're too small," Ahsoka said sourly. "My feet have grown a lot lately."

Padme's eyes lit up. "We're going shopping!" she announced happily. Suddenly, Anakin was being tossed the keys to her small, sporty personal speeder. "Ani, you're driving," she announced dismissively, as if he were one of her servants.

"Why me?" he sputtered.

"Because," Padme said definitively, "We both love Ahsoka. It'll be like we're a family." Suddenly, they were being pressed together for an impromptu group hug, and Anakin darkly thought of what he would do if one of Ahsoka's pimples popped on him. 'They're new robes,' his sun dragon said defensively, and he agreed.

"Fine," he said eventually. "But we should put some newspaper or something down in the backseat in case she, you know, makes."

"I'm not a nekk puppy," Ahsoka scowled, and kneed him in the groin on her way out of the apartment.


Shopping for boots had turned into buying Ahsoka a whole new wardrobe. The result was certainly more grown-up, and even a bit sexy, but Anakin still couldn't get over how Ahsoka mouth-breathed a little, or how she kept staring at him in mutual acridity, as if he were the one with the problem of looking gross and not her. Later, Padme ordered him to drive them to Dex's for lunch, where Ahsoka ordered pretty much everything on the menu. "Are you gonna eat your last slider, Master?" she asked, and burped in his face.

"When are you going to be hot again?" Anakin grumbled.

Padme rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ani," she giggled. "You went through puberty, too."

"Nuh-uh," Anakin said vehemently, crossing his arms and feeling quite like Obi-Wan. "I was always this beautiful specimen of Jedi that you see before you."

Padme hesitated for a split second and then dug into her purse, eventually producing a small photo, which she passed to Ahsoka. On the back, Anakin could see, "Anakin, 14 yrs." in Obi-Wan's neat scrawl.

"Ha, Ahsoka brayed. "You look like a jag, Master."

Padme cackled in agreement. "It's proof that that hairstyle looks good on nobody," she said in a conspiratorial stage-whisper.

Anakin stood up abruptly. "I think I'll go where somebody appreciates me," he glared, and then stomped out of the restaurant.

Ahsoka and Padme just looked at each other and shrugged; then Ahsoka finished eating the rest of Anakin's lunch. "How long until someone has to bail him out of jail for throwing up on another prostitute at the Outlander or he shows up at your apartment again wanting sex?" Ahsoka asked, her mouth full.

Padme patted her on the shoulder. "Oh, sweetie," she sighed. "Not long enough."