A/N: PLEASE READ! This chapter was guest-written by RagnarDanneskjold, and I think you're going to enjoy it a lot! I just about died laughing when I first read it-it's fun and flirty and perfect for Ezra and Sabine, not to mention a breath of fresh air after the angst and drama I've been giving you! (We'll go back to that nonsense next chapter, don't you worry.) I'm almost hesitant to post this 'cause I'm afraid you might like it too much, but it's too good not to share. Review!


Filthy

It took a couple of weeks for Sabine to well and truly recover from her bout of flu, and when she did, Ezra saw more of her vivacious spirit than he had in a long time. It charmed and fascinated him—except for early in the morning.

"Ezraaaaa."

"Hrrmm."

"Ezra!"

"What?" The groggy Jedi said from beneath his pillow.

"Get out of bed! We're burning daylight," the overly chipper Mandalorian replied. She grabbed the blanket and ripped it away from the nearly bare form underneath.

That got Ezra's attention. "Hey!" He shouted angrily, lifting his head up and gazing up at the pesky girl who had disrupted his lazy morning. He glanced at the chrono, too; it was just a little after eight. He glared and she leaned close, smirking.

"Geez, if I tire you out like that just kissing, what are you gonna do when we..."

"Very funny. What's got you in such a good mood already?" Ezra groused, sitting up stiffly and stretching with a wide yawn. With his eyes closed he didn't notice the downright lustful look Sabine was giving his shirtless torso.

He could never really bring himself to be quite the morning person Sabine seemed to be. Thinking back to his days on the Ghost, he remembered being woken on a few occasions hearing her voice in the hallway, something he always seemed to be able to pick out and focus on no matter where he was, or stumbling out of his bunk to find Sabine fully dressed and working on a new masterpiece in the common room before he'd barely opened his eyes.

But actually living with the girl had been a revelation. Over the months since he'd been back, he couldn't count how many times he'd heard her banging around in the kitchen or singing to herself in the living room, a new-though-delightful habit she'd picked up over their years apart. He hadn't yet told her he'd been waking up to listen while pretending to be asleep; he didn't want to risk the possibility she might stop. Best alarm clock ever.

But this day the late morning sunlight found him truly fast asleep, as it flooded through the skylight onto the large bed.

"C'mon Ez, you promised," Sabine whined, reaching for a pillow to throw at him. It never reached its intended target. Floating in the air for just a second, the fluffy projectile reversed course and bounced harmlessly off her face.

"Ugh," she groaned. "I hate it when you do that."

"Well, then don't play with fire if you don't wanna get burned." Ezra laughed, finally rising to his feet. "What did I promise again?"

"Oh no, don't act clueless now. Get up. I've been up for hours." Sabine walked over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "You know exactly what you promised. Get dressed—nothing too nice, as if I have to remind you."

"Yes ma'am." Ezra replied sarcastically but smiled despite himself.

There were times when Sabine might be considered "bossy," but in truth, it was one of her most charming traits. He knew too well what she was like when she was uncertain, reserved, and shut-off from the people around her. Hearing her totally confident and assured, full of determination and assertiveness was as much of a breath of fresh air as the morning. And he also knew she only got like that when she was in either a very good mood, or a very bad one. And this didn't seem like the latter.

Fifteen or so minutes later, a now-dressed Ezra stepped out of the refresher to find a steaming mug of caf waiting for him…next to an ominous looking datapad.

"Oh. Right." Ezra said, his expression falling slightly.

"Don't 'oh right' me. We've both been putting this off for weeks. Every time I bring it up you distract me," Sabine retorted with a stern look.

"I never heard you complain about my….distractions." Ezra answered, stepping forward and pulling her into an embrace.

Sabine's head started to spin as she inhaled deeply and felt one of his strong hands work at the knots in her back, while the other explored elsewhere. Honestly, one more day couldn't hurt, could it?

"No. Not this time" She said suddenly. She stepped back and pulled her tanktop back down where it belonged, blushing slightly. Probably not the best day to be out of clean undergarments. "This place is filthy."

"Aww c'mon. Let's go do something. It's such a nice day out," Ezra wheedled, trying to take another step towards her, but getting only her outstretched hands.

"Yeah, and it was just as nice yesterday. And the day before. And what did we do? Any and everything but clean."

Ezra sighed. She was right. Hell, she was always right. The place was starting to look a little shabby, and no amount of hiding under the covers or fiddling with blasters or walking aimlessly through the city with his petite partner would fix that.

"Alright, Lady Wren," he acquiesced with a mock-bow. "Command me."

"Cute." Sabine smiled slyly. "Well, Master Jedi, if you can pull yourself away from deciphering the infinite mysteries of the Force, I left you a list. Get on it."


Soon, Ezra was bent over, scrub brush in hand, cleaning grime from the paneling by the sink, while his better half flitted around the room grabbing clothes, linens, and other items for laundering.

"You know they make droids for this, right?" Ezra grumbled as she walked past.

"True, but a droid doesn't offer such an interesting view." Sabine laughed from behind him, admiring the scenery.

The soapy sponge sailed from Ezra's hand and impacted on Sabine's chest with a wet thump, leaving sudsy smudge on her shirt, one that Ezra noticed left a now-translucent spot in a very interesting area.

"That's two Ezra. Do that again and see what happens." She started to smirk, then noted where his eyes were directed. "You're lucky I fell in love with you. Here's your sponge." She rolled her eyes and tossed it back at him, then ducked behind the nearest piece of furniture, anticipating a counter-attack.

"Relax, I'm done playing games!" Ezra shouted, then added "for now" under his breath.

"I heard that!" Sabine yelled back, now safely across the room and attending to her own chores.


An hour later, Sabine was startled by sudden hands around her waist as she rooted around in a closet, organizing various bits of art supplies, tactical gear, workout clothing, and other odds and ends into storage bins.

"Ezra!" She yelped, dropping the container she was holding and spinning around in place.

"Hey, relax, babe. I'm done," he said, giving her a light kiss.

"Good." She collapsed into him tiredly and mumbled into his shoulder. "This is harder than I thought."

"You're one to talk. You gave me all the real work," Ezra chuckled.

"Well if you would have woken up first, you could have made the list." Sabine retorted, quirking her brow and returning his kiss. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. I need your help."

"I knew there was a reason you kept me around. Got something heavy for me to move?"

She snorted. "Please. I've seen you with your shirt off. If I need those noodle arms for something heavy, I'll let you know." She grinned wickedly, winking at him. She had indeed seen him without his shirt, and his arms had stopped being anything to mock years ago.

"Thanks a lot," he said, affecting hurt. She punched him in the shoulder and he laughed. "What do you need?"

She took a deep breath before launching in. "So I've got these old paints and I was wondering if I should organize them by color, or by type. Because sometimes when I'm doing something I just want a few colors to choose from for the overall theme, but other times I need a certain type, like oil-based for wet-on-wet canvas or spray application for my street art, and I can't decide. What do you think?"

Sabine held up two bins nearly overflowing with assorted tubes, bottles, spray cans, and jars, many of the colors Ezra didn't even know existed.

"Umm does it matter?" He asked lamely, immediately noting the cool look Sabine was giving him and seeing his mistake. "What I mean is…" he continued, trying to cover his obvious error, "How about you put them in one larger bin…and umm…do both? Like maybe by type and then other way around…maybe?"

Ezra scratched the back of his head shyly, looking up to see if Sabine had bought his ploy.

She hadn't. But his dorky attempt still made her smile. Despite all they'd been through, the wars, the battles, the losses; here they were, just two people spending the day together being…normal. She wouldn't have it any other way.

"Color it is. Thanks Ezra, couldn't have done it without you." Sabine deadpanned, keeping the warm feeling in her heart to herself for now. He ignored her jab.

"Hey, when you're done, come out to the living room and bring that blue paint," he said, turning to leave.

"That 'blue paint?'" She asked skeptically.

"The one you used for the walls—I don't know what it's called. You're the expert."

"Yes I am. And one of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you the finer points of art."

"Sure, after I teach you the finer points of—" Ezra stopped, wiggling his eyebrows salaciously.

She blushed, grinning. "Get out. You're distracting me again." Sabine pushed him out of the bedroom.


"Alright, what is it you needed with 'that blue paint?'" Sabine asked, walking briskly in the room and holding a small applicator can.

Ezra just pointed up. High up, where the wall met the ceiling, was a long scuff in the paint—the result of a rather energetic sparring match that had occurred between them late one night after a few too many Tihaars. They wrestled, they laughed, Ezra discovered Sabine was devilishly ticklish, and at some point in the scuffle, one of her prized WESTAR blasters had been sent sailing through the air. Right into the ceiling.

"Riiiight." Sabine eyed the gash, remembering the night. They still hadn't been intimate yet—not after she had tried to throw herself at him just after he had come home—but that night they had gotten very, very close. Neither had felt it was the right time, but it still made for a memorable evening.

"So what's the plan, Master Jedi?" Sabine noted that the mark was well out of reach for either of them.

"Welllll I could lift you..." Ezra started.

"Oh no, we're not doing that again. You have entirely too much fun floating me around like some training ball." Sabine quipped, rejecting that plan outright.

"I was going to say, before I was rudely interrupted, lift you up on my shoulders and you could use your amazing talents to paint over the mark." Ezra gave her his best I am not amused expression.

She rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Uh huh. I'm sure you were totally going to pass on the chance to lift me up to the ceiling with the Force and not let me down until you stopped finding it funny. Kneel down."

"I wasn't!" Ezra objected, but did as he was told. Sabine climbed onto his shoulders, paint can in hand, and Ezra rose carefully to his feet. "Besides, I can do that any time I want. I don't really have to ask you."

That remark earned Ezra a firm swat on the top of his head.

"You do if you want to sleep in our bed for the rest of the week," Sabine replied sweetly. "And for the record, this color is called celeste. It's a very light shade of blue that I thought brightened the room."

"Right. Celeste. I'll remember that forever." Ezra deadpanned.

She ruffled his hair. "Shush and move me closer.".

Ezra did, and Sabine strained to reach the marred paint, stretching high and nearly toppling herself off-balance. "They make droids for this, you know," she groused, giving the wall an even spray.

"True, but a droid doesn't offer such interesting opportunities," Ezra said, jumping at the chance to turn her words around on her. He brushed his fingertips on the soles of her bare feet. She jerked and made a strangled sound that was halfway between a gasp and a laugh.

"Ugh—I walked right into that one." She dug her heels in his sides. "Stop distracting me"

"Why should I?" Ezra shifted from side to side like he was about to drop her. "You're entirely at my mercy."

"Because." Her reply was sinister and there was the slightest pause before—

"That's why." Ezra heard the light whisper of the paint canister and felt a puff of air on his forehead.

"You did not just do that!" He howled, running over to the couch and dropping a cackling Sabine onto the cushions.

"You play with fire," she blurted between fits of giggles, "you get burned!"

"Ugh! It's everywhere!" Ezra shouted, wiping his face and smearing the blue—no, celeste—paint all over his face and hands.

"You're just mad it's not orange!" Sabine was still doubled over laughing.

"Alright, Wren. That's how it is?" Ezra gave her an evil look. The long-forgotten sponge flew into his hands from the kitchen, and in one motion he caught it, wound up, and flung it straight at the snickering girl on the couch.

She gasped, smearing soap off her neck. "And that's three." Sabine said, regaining enough composure to return his glare. In a flash she shot out off the couch, paint can raised like a weapon, and tackled Ezra to the floor.

Ezra was prepared for it of course; being a Jedi wasn't just useful in a real battle. He rolled with the leap and soon had one of his arms wrapped around her, completely restricting her movement, the other making its way toward the hand with the paint can.

"Not bad for noodle arms, huh?" He asked breathily while Sabine wriggled in his grasp, still laughing.

Sabine knew she'd been had. In a last vain effort, she threw the paint can as far as she could across the room, only realizing at the last second that it wouldn't do any good. Ezra could retrieve it with his mind as effortlessly as he pleased.

But Ezra had something else in mind. He maneuvered her around, still holding her close, until she was now facing him, both of laid out on the tower floor.

"You thought you were so clever huh?" He moved his face closer to hers.

She recognized that look in his eyes. "Wait—Ezra, stop! Stop!" She shrieked, but the hand that had been trying for the paint, now without its prize, began tickling her sides and making her weep from laughter.

Ezra brought his face to hers and with one long motion, wiped a large streak of the still-wet paint across her cheek and forehead.

"Now, we're even," he whispered. His face was still a hair's width away, lips grazing hers lightly.

The kiss only lasted a second, long enough for Sabine to pull away and grimace.

"Gross. You taste like paint," she said in disgust. She wiped her mouth, getting the pigment on her hand. She and Ezra were both well and covered by now.

"Well whose fault is that?" With a satisfied grin, he finally let her go. She rolled to a sitting position.

"Yours!" She tried to sound angry, but giggled as soon as she saw him. "You look like a Chiss."

"So do you," he retorted. Then his eyes widened. "Wait. This is water soluble, right?"

She inhaled sharply; it was not. Sabine locked eyes with him. "Shower?"

"Shower."

And they were off.