The following story was written in collaboration with a number of excellent writers here on FFnet. The premise was simple enough; write a story where Sabine and Ezra have at some point both confessed their feelings for each other, but for whatever reason have not yet kissed, and tell the story of their first kiss. The time frame, period, setting, tone, length, and reason they haven't kissed was totally up to the writer. The series may or may not give us that sweet sweet Ezrabine/Sabezra romance we all crave, but damn it, we're gonna make it happen here.

This is my version. If you like what you read, please check out the rest of these awesome one shots in the series:

First Kiss: Calm After Chaos – TheYellowLantern

First Kiss: Something Just Like This – SweetSinger2010

First Kiss: Last Chance – lothcat1138

First Kiss: Plans - ddaulton94

So without further ado,

First Kiss: Open Horizon

"Gauntlet ... is the Gho... ….. safely away. Zeb ….. are on board. Do not ….. rebel base. I say again. …not go back to … base. ….. hide and stay out ….. ….. contact you when we can. Ghost …"

"I think they made it," Sabine said, letting out a long breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She settled back into the pilot's seat of the Mandalorian Kom'rk fighter, Ezra's personal ship and now their escape pod from the disaster on Lothal.

Ezra said nothing, but the look of relief on his face told the story. The last week and a half had been a flurry of activity, and not without heavy losses. Hera's capture and rescue, the temple, the final confrontation with Thrawn. Only Pryce's lust for personal glory had tipped the meager rebel cell off to the impending attack. In a way, they had her to thank for the few that had made it out. And from the transmission he had just heard, no more of their family had been killed. Hera, Zeb, and Chopper were safely aboard the Ghost, doing what ghosts do best; disappearing.

"Anything on sensors?" Sabine asked, making the last adjustments to the autopilot. They would be making random hyperspace jumps for the next several hours to ward off any chance of being tracked. And more to the point, they had no idea where to go next. Better to just keep moving.

"Nothing. I think you lost them." Ezra replied, peering at this own panels to recheck the readouts.

"Was there ever any doubt? This is a Mandalorian ship, and I am a Mandalorian," Sabine told him with a sly grin that masked the whirlwind of competing emotions that were churning inside her.

"Hey, I did take out that cruiser. They'd be on us right now if not for that," Ezra said, making a few adjustments of his own.

"You were….adequate," Sabine allowed condescendingly. When Ezra looked up at her face, the slight upturn of her lip gave away the joke.

"Yeah, yeah, the mighty Mando princess. One of these days I might actually manage to impress you." Ezra laughed with a tired chuckle that turned into a wheeze. Both of them were clearly relying on humor and their fondness for banter to cover up what they were really feeling.

And that last comment almost did them both in. Certain things had recently come to light that made comments like that a lot more…delicate.

Sabine's eyes locked with his for the briefest instant, but she looked away before she found herself succumbing to embarrassment again. Once in one day was more than enough for this girl.

"We need to look at that cut," Sabine told him, trying to change the subject to something more comfortable.

"I'm fine Sabine, it's just a scratch, really".

"No it's not, really. Get up and follow me," she ordered him, ignoring his attempt at bravado.

"Yes d…um yeah" Ezra said awkwardly, drawing another brief glare from the woman who was presently heading into the rear compartment.

Sabine was already groaning inwardly to herself. There was no chance he had forgotten what had happened at the Lothal camp. She'd halfway hoped the gash on his head gave him a concussion. Bad enough that she had to remember her own 'impropriety'—if he was already trying to slip in endearing names, she knew he remembered every word too.

"Take a seat," she told him, gesturing at a bench while pulling a medkit from a storage locker.

"Sabine, really, I can.."

"Take a seat Ezra." The repeated command was more forceful than she intended, but it had the desired effect.

'No cute comeback this time. Good.' She thought after seeing his compliance but hearing no more protests or flirting.

Ezra sat gingerly on the bench and tried to orient himself toward her, but could not manage it in the cramped living quarters. The ship had only been modified for one to live aboard it, courtesy of the not-so-dearly-departed Maul. While Sabine busied herself with the medical supplies, a thought—equal parts exciting and terrifying—occurred to him.

'Only one bed….'

Sabine was now standing in front of him, looking down at the myriad of cuts, burns, scrapes, and wounds that his numerous battles that day had left him. She was having trouble getting in front of him without bumping into the footlocker or twin bed, and she could only think of one way to solve the issue.

'Great. He's gonna love this.'

"Swing your foot over the bench and scoot back" she told him, trying her best to remain businesslike and professional. Ezra did so and soon she was straddling the bench in front of him, their knees touching and their bodies far too close for her comfort.

"Sabine…I…" Ezra began.

"Close your mouth," She told him curtly, reaching up with a bacta applicator and brushing small amounts of the viscous gel across his cheek. With any luck, he wouldn't have matching scars this time.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, Ezra seeming to grow more impatient while she stubbornly refused to acknowledge any of the tension or its underlying causes.

Sabine finished with the last cut on his forehead and looked at him, only now letting herself fully take in the sight of him. There was a dark patch of dried blood, along with splatterings of other fluids showing on his upper chest as well. She couldn't see any breaks in the material of his jacket, but that didn't mean there weren't any hidden wounds. And from the nasty wheeze he had let out earlier, she feared there just might be. Which, of course, led her to the next part….

"Alright, take your shirt off," she told him, trying hard to keep any implications out of her voice.

Ezra's eyes shot to hers once again, but he was smart enough to keep his trap shut this time. He began to raise his arms up to remove his jacket, but soon found himself doubling over and coughing once again, tears forming in his eyes, unable to lift his arms over his head.

Sabine pressed her lips together. 'Damn him. Damn this whole kriffed up situation'

"Stop. You're making it worse…ugh just let me do it" she told him in a huff, scooting herself toward him. Ezra let his arms go limp and Sabine reached forward, slender fingers grasping the dirty hem. She slowly worked the tattered garment up his torso, unable to stop her hands from brushing over his smooth and muscled chest, which a gasp from Ezra, and tore away another piece of her façade.

Soon, Ezra was sitting in front of her, shirtless, unable to keep himself from returning her appraising look.

Sabine had made it out of the fight more or less unscathed. He still didn't know how she always seemed to pull it off, and they had been separated for hours as he battled his way alone through Thrawn's forces, while the rest of the rebels fought on the planet's surface below. One minute he was making a rapid unscheduled landing in an Imperial drop ship he had 'borrowed' from Thrawn, and the next he was staring up into those piercing amber eyes, hearing words he had dreamed about for years. At the time, he thought he might still have been dreaming, or worse. But soon she was helping him to a speeder, fighting off Scout Troopers all on her own while driving the two of them to where the Gauntlet lay hidden in the mountains. And now here they were.

Sabine's armor had a few more scuffs, and some charring that couldn't be anything other than direct hits to her chest plate, but the venerable Mandalorian alloy had done its job well, and she was no worse for wear. Only the scrapes and some soot on her cheek gave any indication she had even been in a fight. His blood ran cold as he remembered his own foolish advice, that Mandalorians should stop using their armor in favor of something else, something inferior. Thank the Force they had shot that down.

He fingered the bottom of her chest plate. 'Maybe I need to get a set of armor like that…'

"Sabine…" he started again, knowing that he had to say something. Her words to him still echoed in his ears as if she had just said them. Words he would never forget as long as he lived.

"Ezra…" She eyed him wearily, years of stress and toil seeming to pull her shoulders down into a slump. A single tear managed to work its way down her cheek, leaving a streak through the soot before she regained her composure.

"Just sit still. I need to apply this while it's still wet," she told him, wiping her eye and reaching for the bacta applicator.

'Not yet. I can't do this. Not yet.' She thought, steeling herself for the conversation she knew would come. It wasn't that she didn't mean what she said to him planetside; on the contrary, she meant it all and more. Over these years, while she wasn't even looking, Ezra had managed to become the most important person in the galaxy to her. More than Kanan, more than Hera, more than her own parents, or Tristan. This boy had become such an intrinsic part of her life that the few seconds she thought she might have lost him tore at her soul. She thought she knew pain and loss the night they lost Kanan, but seeing Ezra's lifeless body in the cockpit of the dropship had almost done what countless legions of Imperial troops could not: it had almost defeated Sabine Wren.

Seeing his eyes open was the only thing that kept her together, kept her moving. The fight to the Gauntlet would have been the stuff of song if there were other Mandalorians to witness it. Eight Scout Troopers had set off in pursuit, and none had been up to the challenge. With only one arm free to wield a blaster, and the half-conscious body of Ezra leaning against her, she had taken them all down one by one, leaving eight smoking wrecks in her wake.

"This is gonna sting," she told him, her thoughts still concealed under a mask of focus.

"I'm used to it from you," he said, trying to put up a show but taking in a sharp breath as the bacta patch touched his skin.

"Stop being a baby." Sabine chided him, thankful that he was still in the mood to joke. The wound wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it was a lot worse than she suspected before the jacket had come off. Luckily, it was a surface wound and no internal organs had been damaged. Sooner or later, she would want to hear what had happened aboard Thrawn's ship, and how he had made it out, but she knew that time would come much, much later. More pressing matters fought for her attention at the moment, and Ezra was in no shape for telling tales, no matter what he might say.

Ezra watched as she finished bandaging the last of his wounds and began to put the medkit back together.

"Should I…you know…help with you?" He asked innocently, not a single ounce of flirtation or mockery in his voice.

"You can't even lift your hands over your head, Ezra. I'm fine. These really are just scratches. I'll take care of it. You need to rest. We still have a lot to do," she said.

"And talk about," Ezra added pointedly, catching her hand as she stood up to leave.

Sabine almost made it. She'd almost faced him, alone, with his shirt off, in a bedroom, without breaking down again or letting anything out.

But almost only counts in fathier-shoes and thermal detonators.

She stood frozen in place, her hand still trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, unable to break away or retreat. Obviously she could, of course; Ezra would no sooner lay a hand on her or keep her from leaving than he would join the Emperor. She could tear her hand away, tell him to let go, give him an icy glare, or even just ask him; any number of things that would free her from his grasp. He would respect it, as he respected her, and that would be the end of it until she decided to go further.

But she couldn't get away.

Sabine looked down at the man on the bench, his once cloudy and confused eyes now clear and alert. There was no judgement, no condescension, not even a trace of anything but total sympathy, care…and love. And that's what kept her locked in place, hand barely trembling. She could have dealt with scorn, or even one of his goofy grins. But she could feel it with every inch of her body and soul. It tingled through her fingertips and made her heart flutter. He loved her, more than life itself. While she might not have known how close she was getting to him, he did. All along, he knew what was happening. He'd never said another word past that first year on the Ghost together. Never pushed her, never tried to peak at her changing, never tried to get touchy with her, never made a crude comment or been anything but decent, honest, caring, and loyal. It was a dirty, underhanded, and nasty trick, using those qualities to melt the ice in her heart, and she loved him for it. By the Force she loved him. And now he knew.

"…and talk about" she finally said quietly, sitting back down on the bench to face what was coming.

With a mind of its own, Sabine's other hand found its way into his, like they were a matched set that were looking for each other their whole lives. She accepted it now. This was going to happen, and she couldn't fight it anymore. She didn't want to.

"So…" Ezra said, unable to put to words what he had wanted to say, now that he had her undivided attention.

"Yeah…so." She answered meekly, looking down that their hands, waiting for the last wall of her resolve to fall away. All she needed was a push, and he was about to give it to her.

"Did you mean it?" He finally asked. He didn't need to say what 'it' was. They both knew.

Sabine kept looking down, her owns hands starting to shake as the torrent of emotions she'd been holding back finally sensed that it was ok to break free. The battles were fought, those that could be saved, were. Those that were lost could not be brought back. She was safe, with the man she loved, and had nothing on the horizon but whatever future they might forge together. It was finally okay for her to break.

So she broke.

Ezra gasped as Sabine collapsed into him, openly sobbing in a way he had never seen. He had witnessed her shedding tears before; when she thought her family had been killed, and when she knew Kanan had. On those occasions she had been angry, despairing, bitter, and wallowing in self-doubt and loathing, but there had always been one shred of strength left in her, keeping her from losing it entirely. That shred was gone now.

Ezra grit his teeth through the pain and wrapped his arms around her, drawing strength from the Force to numb his physical sensations. She needed him now and he wasn't going to let her face this on her own.

Before long, he felt his own tears flowing down his face. Together they wept for Ketsu, and Jai, and Ryder, and Gregor. Allies and friends who had come to save Lothal, and who would never leave his home planet again. They cried for Kanan Jarrus, a man who had been more than a friend, a mentor, a Master, or crewmate to either of them. He had been like a father to them both, guiding the young teens not only though the battles against the Empire, but through the struggles of life. And Ezra wept for Ahsoka, whom he'd last seen drawing away the Emperor's wrath so that he could make it back safely. He hoped she had made it, too. Someday they might find each other again, but not yet.

But among their tears of sorrow, each was weeping with joy as well. For they had both made it, and more important, they were together. Now finally, together.

Ezra lost track of time as they held each other, their tears slowly ebbing away, never letting go of each other for a second. At long last Sabine stirred in his arms, her deep violet hair still tinged with a faint scent of Palomella flowers, amidst the sweat, oil, fuel, and smoke. He inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance in every way. The woman he loved wasn't just feminine grace and delicacy. She was strong, brave, competent, fiercely loyal, and quite simply, the best woman he had ever met. The scents mixed together could be nothing other than Sabine Wren.

Sabine slowly moved her head from his shoulder, her tears drying on her cheeks. For what felt like the hundredth time in an hour, she looked into his eyes, but this time she didn't glance away.

"Ezra…" she breathed, letting her face drift ever so slightly forward.

He didn't answer. He was too lost in her eyes to even hear what she said. Her lips parted as they moved together. She couldn't resist herself anymore. An urge she had never felt in her twenty years of life overtook her, and for the first time, Sabine kissed the man who would become her husband. She didn't know what sort of future lay on the horizon, but she knew everything would finally be okay. She pulled away from him just long enough to say, "I meant every word."