"Agent, are you still working?"
Agent Alexsandr Kallus looks up from his computer where he'd been finishing typing up the notes to the case he'd just closed to see his supervisor and department head, Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo (a name the captain allowed to be shortened to "Thrawn" for those who had difficulty pronouncing it in full), standing over him, his jacket on and clearly on is way out of building for the night.
"Yes sir," Alex answers, trying to gauge the expression on his superior's face. While most of his supervisors in the past had always applauded his dedication to his work and willingness to stay after hours, when Captain Thrawn had been transferred to this division there had been a distinct change in the way that things worked. Thrawn's philosophy seemed to be that his agents worked best when they were happy and healthy and he was more than a little forceful when it came to ensuring that they all left work on time, got appropriate amounts of rest, and proved time and again that his office open door policy wasn't just words-there were many times that Alex had heard his coworkers talking about how the captain had sincerely listened to and provided solutions for any problems that they were having in the workplace and sometimes even in their own personal lives.
Alex could respect and even on some level appreciate Thrawn's innovative workplace policies, and he couldn't deny the results-the department had never functioned so well. However, Alex was a man of habit and didn't like to change things that had already proved effective. For years he had been the top agent here-not one of his peers came close to closing as many cases as he had-and he didn't feel the need to avail himself of Thrawn's new policies. This unfortunately led to some butting of heads between them. Thrawn was continually reminding Alex (with less and less patience as the days stretched into months) to take breaks and to leave work that couldn't be done by the end of the day for the next morning. Alex, in turn, responded, as politely as he was able to, that the results of his work spoke for themselves and he wasn't about to change things and risk losing his current level of productivity.
It wouldn't have been so bad if it was just work related matters. But Thrawn, for reasons beyond Alex's understanding, had seemed to have taken a special interest in his personal life as well. It wasn't enough that Alex felt he could or even needed to report it to Thrawn's superior. But somehow Thrawn just had a way of starting out with a polite casual conversation over coffee and leaving with more information about Alex than most of the men he had been working with for over ten years knew about him. It was a bit unnerving, to put it lightly.
On the other hand, Alex did have to begrudgingly admit that it was nice to have met an unexpected ally. Alex still had no idea how exactly Thrawn had managed to get his romantic and sexual orientation (something the agent usually kept so close to his chest) out of him. But when Thrawn had actually smiled a rare genuine smile at him and started casually discussing how he had met his own husband, Eli, Alex had known that he wasn't in danger of losing his job over his preference for men. As it was, Alex sometimes had the feeling that Thrawn was perhaps a bit too interested in trying to play matchmaker for him since he was currently single. It wasn't anything specific, like trying to set him up with a fellow coworker or someone outside of work. It was just in little things-like now, for instance.
"It is a Friday night, Agent Kallus-don't you have any plans that you need to attend to?" Thrawn asks with the faintest traces of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"No, but thank you for your concern," Alex answers dryly. "And, even if I did, finishing these reports come as a priority over anything happening in my personal life."
"Kallus." Thrawn gives him a firm look and then puts an arm over the keyboard to block him from continuing typing. "You know how I feel about you working after hours and exhausting yourself. You're going to work yourself to the bone one of these days and I'll lose one of the best agents I've seen since I graduated from the academy myself."
Alex was about to protest, but Thrawn cuts himself off.
"I've been letting this slide for a while now, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to put my foot down," the older man says, his lips forming a thin line. "I'm getting ready to leave myself, and I'm going to have to ask you to save the rest of those reports for Monday."
"Yes, sir." Something in Thrawn's tone told Alex that he wasn't in the mood for an argument and so, reluctantly, the agent saves his work before shutting down his computer. Maybe he could get up and go get coffee and then, once he'd made sure Thrawn was safely gone, he could sneak back in to get a little bit more work done-it wasn't like he had anything to do tonight besides sit around at home watching Netflix and maybe trying out a new recipe.
"I'll walk you out to your car," Thrawn says, gesturing to the door.
Damn. Alex tries not to wince noticeably as he walks out into the hallway and his supervisor locks the door behind them. Thrawn apparently knew him far too well and had anticipated what he'd been planning to do. Well, that squashed any plans that Alex had of continuing on with work. Netflix and cooking it was, then. On the upside, at least leaving on time for once meant that he actually had time to go to the store to get ingredients…
Alex only half listened as Thrawn escorts him out of the precinct and to his car, just nodding and mumbling out some sort of response whenever it seemed appropriate. It sounded like the older man was talking about his plans with his husband for the evening, but Alex wasn't particularly interested in whatever Thrawn had to say when he was still not in the best of moods with him for making him stop working and leaving him with a massive pileup for Monday.
It wasn't until he felt Thrawn pushing what turned out to be a small business card into his hands that he stopped stewing long enough to find out what was going on.
"This has the address on it and directions should you need them," Thrawn was saying.
"Address? Directions?" Alex repeats-maybe he should have been paying more attention to the conversation, one sided as it had been.
"To the bar," Thrawn answers calmly. "I'm glad that you agreed to give it a try. I do think it will do you good to get out and have some fun on a Friday night for once."
Wait, a bar? What exactly had Alex gotten himself into?
"But I didn't- I wouldn't- I don't even drink!" Alex starts to protest, but Thrawn shakes his head, a slight smile making its way onto his face.
"I think you'll find it a very enjoyable experience, even if you don't drink," Thrawn responds. "Consider this your assignment for the weekend, if you will. Go to the bar tonight and at least make an effort to enjoy yourself. On Monday you can come to my office with picture evidence that you actually went-and by picture evidence I mean pictures of you inside the bar, not pictures that you could just get from online-and give me a report on your experience. If you enjoy yourself, then we both benefit-you because you had an enjoyable time, me because hopefully you'll finally understand what I've been trying to tell you all this time. If you don't, then I won't make any more comments about you working late in future. Does that sound like a fair deal to you?"
Alex bites his lip-as much as he didn't want to go to a bar in the first place, the offer to finally have supervisor get off of his back about the way he did his work was incredibly tempting.
"You wouldn't say anything else about me working late ever again?" Alex asks, just to make sure that he was hearing this clearly.
"I promise on my honor," Thrawn answers.
"...In that case, I accept your offer," Alex says, offering his hand to Thrawn, who shakes it, looking pleased.
"Wonderful. As I said, everything that you need to find the bar is on that card. It is fairly casual so I would recommend changing out of your work clothes before going," Thrawn tells him, a hint of amusement making its way into his voice.
Alex just nods in response to that. He didn't exactly like Thrawn telling him how to dress, but stopping by home would give him the opportunity to pick up the book he'd ordered months ago that was still sitting untouched on his nightstand (he kept meaning to read it but by the time he got home most nights it was all he could do to eat a brief dinner before passing out in his bed-if he even made it that far, many nights he ended up on the couch-before getting up in the morning to shower and head back to work.) If nothing else he could just sit in the bar for a few hours, hopefully avoid any human contact, and then head back to his apartment to enjoy the rest of his evening in peace and quiet.
"I look forward to seeing you on Monday, Alexsandr," Thrawn says with a smile that looked far too smug for Alex's liking. Still, Alex manages to keep his composure, forcing out a polite farewell before getting into his car, keeping his furious diatribe to himself until he was out on the main road and far enough away that Thrawn wouldn't see him cursing his stupid, self-assured face.
As it turned out, the bar that Thrawn had sent him too wasn't bad, as bars went (not that Alex made a habit of visiting bars, but he had seen a few back in his academy days, mostly when he had been talked into being designated driver for a group of classmates.) Alex had certainly had his concerns when he'd pulled up outside and seen the large, flashing neon rainbow flag in the front window-as much as he appreciated the fact that Thrawn had taken his orientation into account when picking out a venue, he had to question if he'd been sent to an actual bar or a nightclub which would be completely out of his comfort zone. (How was he supposed to be able to quietly enjoy his book if there was blaring music and strobing lights everywhere?)
When he walked inside, however, he was relieved to find that the only music playing was of a completely reasonable noise level, and all of the lights were of the normal variety. The bar was mildly crowded, as was to be expected on a Friday night, but even the slightly rowdier conversations that he could hear didn't seem like they'd be too difficult to tune out. Yes, this just might not be so bad after all.
Alex had just ordered a plain coke and was sitting down at a small table in a darkened corner to enjoy both the drink and his book when he saw him. Alex hadn't noticed the other man while he'd been ordering-at the time, the stranger had been surrounded by a group of three other men (all of whom looked very similar to each other-triplets, perhaps?) But just as Alex had sat down, the others moved away and now he had a perfectly good view of a man who, in spite of his attempts to tell himself that he wasn't planning on getting involved in anything or with anyone tonight, he couldn't help but notice was very, very attractive, even if not in a way that Alex usually would have considered attractive.
To date Alex's relationships had been short and mostly kept on a very professional basis. He dated men who were a lot like himself-responsible, punctual, clean-cut, and usually as career driven as he was (which, in hindsight, had probably been the downfall of most of those relationships.)
The man he found himself staring at now did not, in any way, fit the mold of the types of men he usually dated. For one thing, both the hair on the top of the stranger's head and on his face were ridiculously scruffy-it looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and hadn't even taken a glance at himself in the mirror. The same went for his clothes: his entire outfit consisted of a tank top and a pair of jeans that could politely be called "well worn". And, as for the very noticeable stipe-like tattoos on both his arms, Alex was pretty sure that none of the men he'd dated in the past had had a tattoo, even in more discreet locations.
This man was as far removed from everything that Alex had ever looked for in a partner as possible and yet… And yet somehow tonight all of that was making Alex feel incredibly drawn to him. Or maybe it was the fact that, for possibly the first time in his life since he'd finally stopped growing, he'd actually found a man who was taller than him.
At six foot four inches, Alex was usually one of the tallest if not the tallest person in any room he was in, and he'd grown fairly accustomed to it. However, even at this distance Alex could tell that this man who had caught his attention was at least a few inches taller than him. Beyond that, he was incredibly well built-not overly muscled like a bodybuilder, but Alex had a feeling that he could easily pick him up and throw him down onto a bed if he wanted to, something which was absolutely not turning him on…
Alex was just about to bury himself in his book, his cheeks burning-how could he be having fantasies about a total stranger?-when suddenly, with absolutely no prompting, the other man looks over at him and makes eye contact. Alex has to bite back a very unmanly squeak of surprise and shame. Had he been caught staring? But if the stranger had noticed him staring and minded at all, he certainly didn't show it. If anything, after giving Alex what was unmistakably a very interested looking once-over, a smile makes its way onto the stranger's face and he stands up, slowly starting to make his way across the bar towards Alex.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! Alex wondered if it was too late to quickly bury himself in his book and hope that the stranger would see that he was busy and leave him alone. Only, he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted the stranger to leave him alone, and before he could fully make up his mind the other man had reached his table.
"Is it alright if I sit here?"
Alex was a bit caught off guard-and no, not at all even more turned on-by the soft accent (Australian, or New Zealand, maybe?) in the other man's slightly gravelly voice. It takes a minute for him to be able to form an answer, and when he does it comes out much more breathless than he'd have liked. "A-Absolutely."
Shit. That had sounded far too eager, hadn't it? Still, if it had, the other man didn't seem to mind, just smiling as he sits down in the chair across from him and extending a hand to him.
"I'm Garazeb-Zeb to my friends," the stranger says with a warm smile.
"Kallus," Alex answers automatically, shaking the offered hand, before grimacing and saying, "No, sorry, force of habit. What I meant to say was my name is Alexsandr. I suppose Alex to my friends if I actually had any." Wait, why had he said that?
"It's all right," Zeb answers with a small chuckle. "Easy thing to get mixed up. Took me a bit to get used to using my first name again when I was back in civilian life."
"You were in the service?" Alex asks, glad to grasp onto a talking point that he could hopefully hold a half decent conversation about.
"Yep," Zeb answers, seeming to sense his interest. "Served ten years in the marines. You?"
"I barely made it out of basic training," Alex answers, shaking his head, realizing that maybe this actually hadn't been the best topic to go with..
"Found out that wasn't for you?" Zeb asks gently. "It's not for everyone, and there's no shame in that."
"No, it's not quite as simple as that," Alex answers, his hand under the table automatically starting to fidget with the fabric of his right trouser leg. "I… It was my first time out in the field. I was with my platoon-it was just supposed to be a routine patrol. But then… We were ambushed. Somehow or other I was knocked out, and by the time I woke up, everyone… They were all..."
"Karabast," Zeb whispers, his eyes going wide. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea…!"
"It's all right," Alex answers-Zeb hadn't known, and while it was still painful to talk about, it wasn't as painful as it had been when it first happened. Still, not wanting the conversation to take on an entirely negative tone, he continues, "I was honorably discharged because of a leg injury, and I came back here to start over. I still wanted to try to do something with my life to try to help other people. At first I considered working as a police officer but I wasn't sure they'd take me because of my bum leg. Eventually I decided to try pursuing being a special agent since that had always interested me. I went through the process to become one, found a job, and that's what I've been doing ever since."
Alex has to pause a moment to breathe-he hadn't intended to say that much all at once-and Zeb takes the opportunity to fill the silence.
"That is absolutely incredible," Zeb says softly. "You went through all of that and you're still out there helping other people every day?"
"I have to work some sort of job to support myself, don't I?" Alex answers with a shrug, although he was secretly pleased by the praise.
"I suppose so-doesn't make it any less amazing," Zeb responds with a small grin.
"So, what do you do now that you're retired?" Alex asks quickly, hoping to distract Zeb so he wouldn't notice just how much he was starting to blush.
"I work for an outreach program for veterans," Zeb answers. "It's based out of here but they have a couple branches throughout the country. It's called New Hope-maybe you've heard of it?"
"It sounds familiar," Alex answers slowly-the name did ring a bell, but he couldn't know for sure.
"It's still fairly new, I'm not surprised," Zeb says with a smile. "We're working on trying to get more out in the public eye to raise awareness."
"Do you enjoy working there?" Alex asks curiously.
"I do, actually," Zeb answers. "It feels good helping other people who've been through hell and back, and I've made some pretty good friends working there. Like my friend Hera-she was in the air force until she got shot down. Poor kid-they saved her life but a piece of shrapnel got embedded in her. Even though they pulled it out, that was the end of her dreams of having biological kids-at least in the usual way."
"That's terrible," Alex says softly, unable to imagine what that sort of loss must have been like.
"It is," Zeb agrees, shaking his head. "Still, she's one of the strongest people I've ever met, and her husband is a good, steady man who stood by her through everything. They ended up deciding to try the adoption route to start their family, and they've got two kids now, Sabine and Ezra." He shakes his head again, but it was with more fondness this time. "They can be little balls of terror at times, but that's the case with most little 'uns, let alone ones who've been through what they've been through. Most of the time you couldn't ask for sweeter kids, and Hera and Kanan love them like they're blood family."
"That's wonderful." Alex smiles, thinking how amazing these people must be if they could take their own tragic loss and turn it into an opportunity to open their home to children who didn't have one.
"I think I've got a couple pictures of them on here if you'd like to see 'em," Zeb offers, starting to pull out his phone.
"I'd love to!" As much as Alex tried to keep most people from finding out what a soft spot he had for kids, he would never turn down the opportunity to see pictures of someone's kids or nieces or nephews if they offered first.
"Here they are," Zeb says with a warm smile as he hands Alex the phone. "The one on the left's Ezra, and the one on the right's Sabine."
Alex couldn't help but feel his heart melt as he looks down at the two children in the picture. Sabine appeared to be the older of the two just based on height, the bright streaks of color in her hair and her paint splattered clothes seeming to indicate that she was already an artist in the making. Ezra, on the other hand, was a bit startling to look at at first, with dark hair that was almost blue and eyes bluer than Alex had ever seen outside of a movie or magazine.
"Is his hair naturally that color?" Alex finds himself asking in spite of himself.
"It's been that way since Kanan found him," Zeb answers with a slight smile. "We don't know much about his past before Kanan discovered him hiding in an abandoned building while out on patrol one night, so it could have been a different before then. Poor kid was scared to death-not much more than skin and bone-and we've never really gotten him to talk about what happened in his life before that night. Then again, he was only four at the time, best as the doctors can tell, so he was too young to have a lot of memories of life back then. Whatever happened to his parents is a mystery at this point-not that we haven't tried to find them for his sake, but they've disappeared without a trace. Part of me hopes that nothing too terrible happened to them, but on the other hand I almost hope that they didn't have a choice to leave him because if they were the type of people to abandon a sweet little kid like that…"
"The important thing is he's in a safe place now," Alex puts in firmly, seeing how agitated Zeb was starting to look and hoping to calm him.
"Yeah, you're right," Zeb agrees, his shoulders sinking and visibly calming. "I don't think any kid could ask for better parents than Hera and Kanan, they absolutely adore their little 'uns."
Alex found himself smiling at that and was just trying to think of the right response when suddenly one of the men that Zeb had been with earlier comes up and puts and hand on Zeb's shoulder.
"Zeb, I'm glad you're having a good time over here, but you know we promised Hera we wouldn't stay out too late," the man says. "She'll skin us alive if we're not over there bright and early to help set up for the barbecue."
"Right," Zeb sighs, shaking his head before flashing Alex an apologetic grin. "Sorry to do this to you, but Rex is right-Hera's a right drill sergeant when she wants to be and I'll be a dead man if I'm not at the house at eight on the dot."
"Oh, of course," Alex answers, trying not to show his disappointment too much. "I completely understand-prior commitments come first."
"Is there-any chance that I could get your number?" Zeb asks, actually looking a bit hesitant. "Only if you want to give it to me, of course!" he quickly adds. "I just thought maybe… If you're ever free and would like to do this again…"
"I'd love to," Alex answers, biting back a grin as he quickly-and hopefully not too eagerly-types his number into Zeb's phone.
"Why don't you invite your new friend to the barbecue tomorrow?" Rex asks, glancing between Zeb and Alex with a knowing smile on his face.
"Would you like to come?" Zeb asks Alex hopefully.
"I-I'd love to, but I'd hate to impose," Alex quickly answers.
"You wouldn't be imposing on anyone," Rex tells him firmly. "We always make way too much food, and besides, there's always room for one more at our table."
"Well… In that case, I accept," Alex answers, trying to fight down the surprisingly giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach at the idea of seeing Zeb again.
"Great!" Zeb grins at him. "I can text you the address-or I can come pick you up and give you a ride if you want?"
"If you can text me the address I shouldn't have any problem finding it," Alex reassures him. As nice as Zeb appeared to be, in his line of work he'd learned early on that it wasn't a good idea to get into someone's car and go with them to an unknown location until you'd actually gotten to know them a little bit better.
"I'll send it right now," Zeb answers, quickly typing up a text and sending it to Alex, whose phone almost immediately chimes to signify that it had received the text.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Zeb says as Rex starts to not-so-gently tug him towards the door.
"Tomorrow," Alex agrees, a bit surprised but not at all displeased to find that he was already counting down the seconds until he could see Zeb again.