Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any part of the franchise; all rights and ownership belong to Disney.

A/N: Welcome to the feels-trip. Buckle up, Togruta-cup! Enjoy!

~ProphetessMinty

Chapter 16

Rex held on tight, embracing the object of his blossoming affections. Ahsoka was warm and soft to the touch, and she smelled faintly of motor oil which he found humorous in afterthought. Her arms encircled his torso, clenching tightly to the fabric of his clothes. He was unsure of who was holding onto who, but he could care less about the details. His head was swimming with a million fuzzy thoughts, completely enraptured by the petite Togruta in his arms.

A secret part of him loved the way she melted into him like she had always belonged there. Even the way her montral had perfectly curved around his neck, so he could rest his cheek and chin against her head, felt oh-so-right. He never wanted to let her go or break the closeness of their intimate contact. He never wanted to lose that connection that brought them together. It was one of the most real and honest things Rex had ever experienced in his short life—a tight hug.

Yet, even deep down, Rex knew they had only stolen a moment in time. A secret happenstance that he would cherish always, and the pangs of regret could never sully. Though whatever this was could not go beyond the doorway of the room, Rex realized he would trade all his livelihood just to hold her to him. The double-sided sensation thrilled him to the core with both hope and fear.

Hope—that there was a possibility of life beyond monotonous war just like Jesse believed.

Fear—that what Cut fought for, Rex would never get the chance to do the same.

Call it selfish, call it greedy even, but Rex wanted it all. The pining. The connection. The affection. The security. The devotion. The support. All of it. Though he knew he should not act upon his feelings, and that romance for a clone was highly improbable, Rex could not help but indulge. If only just a little bit.

"Hey, Rex?" Ahsoka called, squirming beneath his arms.

The clone captain leaned back and peered down to find a pair of cerulean eyes staring up at him. "Hmm?"

"You're squishing me," she chuckled with a smile growing on her mauve colored lips.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized, reluctantly releasing her from his firm grasp. The warmth of her fled away from him like a ghostly impression, replaced by a cooling shiver that ran through him. Just as Rex took a step back, Ahsoka's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He frowned as she crossed an arm over her stomach and clutched at her elbow. Somehow, she went from being happy to somber and he could not figure out why.

Was it the hug? Had he made things awkward? Did he overstep a line he did not realize was there?

"Hey, Rex?" Ahsoka's blue eyes focused on him again, her gaze different and soft.

"Hmm?" he answered.

"Thanks for always being there for me," she answered. The young Jedi began to smile again with genuine appreciation. Rex felt a smile pull at his lips, finding that her elation was increasingly contagious. It was warm like the sun, casting away metaphorical clouds of gloom. "It means...a lot...to me. More than it probably should," Ahsoka said, her cheeks flushing a deep blood orange shade. "Anyways, I've gotta go find that communicator," she said while backing away.

"'Soka, wait!" Rex reached out for her hand, tugging gently. She was turned toward the door, not daring to meet his gaze, though her calloused hand scrunched his. It was small compared to his own, worn and scarred by combat. "I'm not good at things like this," he began.

"Good at what?" she chuckled nervously.

"Saying what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling," he sighed. Rex scratched at the back of his head out of habit, not sure what to say—much less do. Ahsoka peered over her shoulder, taking him in for a curious moment before her uncertain eyes beheld the hand holding her own. "I'm good at orders—giving and following—and I do it all day long. Give me a weapon, I know how to disassemble and reassemble it in record time. I know how, when, and where to place ordinance. I know the sound of it, and I can hear it even now." Tugging on her hand, he said, "This...I don't understand it. I know I shouldn't want it, but I do. I'm tired of fighting against this, trying to pretend that things don't actually exist between us."

"Rex...," Ahsoka began, but trailed off. Her eyes were confused, blinking quickly between him and somewhere else. Her cheeks were a dark shade of blood orange, a stark contrast to the terracotta color of her skin. "What are you saying?" The moment Ahsoka trained her cerulean eyes on him, Rex's heart began to hammer away in his chest. The thumps came quick and hard like he had run a mile.

"I won't ask anything of you," he said, as a subtle heat danced over him. "It's just that I want you to know that all this time apart made me put some things into perspective. Time, being one of them. Things happen too fast, or perhaps they don't happen at all. Life is short—too short for a clone for that matter. I don't know when the 'right' time for any of this is, but I don't want to miss it. I—"

Ahsoka smiled and quickly put a finger to his mouth, "Shh…" As her finger lightly caressed down his lip and chin, the sensation dropping off all together, Rex quieted. His amber brown eyes searched her thoroughly, his heart palpitating uncontrollably as he hung onto her every word. Anticipation made him nervous, but he waited with patience, keeping an open ear and an open heart.

"If you tell me this now," she smiled, lips quivering with quiet joy, "then I won't be able to focus on the task ahead." Closing the distance between them, Ahsoka put her hands on Rex's shoulders as she lifted onto her tiptoes. Leaning forward, she placed her forehead against his own. Together, they closed their eyes and enjoyed the peace therein. "I know," she said softly, "I feel the same."

"You do?" he asked with amazement.

She nodded.

Rex's heart soared with joy at the news, happiness filling his bones with renewed strength. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to run. He wanted to jump. He wanted to shout. He wanted to sing. Yet, he remained still, choosing to reign in self-control as he reveled in the harmony between them.

She sighed, "I don't know when the 'right' time is either, but maybe once we resolve the mysteries ahead—the spice, the Mandalorian armaments, and the chip—we can talk more."

"Agreed," he nodded. "We've waited this long, a little while longer won't hurt."

"There's also other things to consider," she said, lowering to the flats of her feet. Ahsoka's hands fell away from Rex's shoulders, dropping to her sides, fidgeting with the hem of her black, leather vest. "For example, I'm not a Jedi anymore. I won't be going on missions with you. The times we get to see each other will be few. I know just as well as you do that troopers almost never get time away from the war."

"I know," Rex sighed, closing his eyes, "I've thought about these things too."

"It'll be difficult," Ahsoka nodded, "but not impossible."

Rex grinned, "Are you trying to shake me, Commander? 'Cuz I'll follow you no matter what." Placing his hands on her shoulders, the clone playfully shook her side-to-side, causing her montrals to sway with the motion. Ahsoka cracked into an instant grin as mirth filled her countenance.

"I would never do that," she feigned with mock offense, "because I can run faster."

Rex laughed hard, pulling her to him in a hug. Ahsoka returned the gesture, nuzzling into his shoulder willingly, seeking the shelter of his comfort.

"You're full of surprises, you know that?" he chuckled.

Ahsoka turned her head to look at him, a giddy expression plastered to her face. "How so?" she grinned.

"I thought, perhaps, I was the only one feeling this way." As Rex said this, he brought a hand up and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Ahsoka closed her eyes, enjoying the tender affection. A part of Rex was shocked at how easy it was to block out his training, letting go of binding militaristic ideologies for the sake of passion. It was thrilling. Yet, it wasn't half as shocking as when he realized how natural their displays of mutual amorousness came.

Sighing happily, she said, "Nope, not at all. I've been like this since the day I bumped into you, filthy with motor oil."

He chuckled, "All of the past day and a half?"

"No silly," she laughed.

"Are you talking about the time you and the General were fixing that speeder?" he guessed.

Ahsoka's mouth dropped open as her cheeks darkened with embarrassment. Playfully smacking his shoulder, she hid her face into his chest and groaned. "Ugh! I can't believe you remembered that."

He laughed, "Oh, I remember it alright."

The Togruta unburied her face from his chest, biting her lip, as a round of laughter sought to break loose.

"I kept walking because I thought Skywalker was gonna kill me," he chuckled. "Kyrayc—dead!" Rex made a crude motion with his hand, indicating his head being sheared off. "You should've seen his face."

Ahsoka smacked a hand over her mouth and laughed. "Oh no, I can picture it."

"He never said anything, but if looks could kill…" he trailed off dramatically.

"Well, we don't want that," she giggled.

"I sure don't," he snickered, shaking his head. With a sigh and a serious expression, he said, "You've always been special to me. Despite the oil you're habitually wearing, or the fact that I've wrestled endlessly coming to grips with this, nothing has changed the way I feel about you."

Ahsoka blushed as her eyes flicked away, happiness still sketched on her face. "I feel the same," she answered softly, "it was hard not to think about you, especially these last couple months apart. Wondering where you were and what you were doing. Wondering if you missed me...I missed you."

Rex brought a hand up to her cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so slightly. "I missed you too. How could I not?"

The Togruta smiled, "Well, I should really get going before people come looking for us."

The clone captain nodded, understanding full well the impending cost of their dawdling, as well as their shared secret. "You're right, but I don't like it," he chuckled. Rex's hands dropped to his sides, still tingling with the sensation of her electrifying touch.

"I know," Ahsoka laughed. Rex watched as she stepped back, the small distance between them growing wider as she retreated to the door of the room. Stopping shy of the threshold, the young Jedi turned her head, looking at him from over her shoulder. She smiled, her eyes sparkling with unspoken bliss. "The distance between us won't be forever, I promise." With her bold declaration, Ahsoka disappeared beyond the doorway, venturing down the stairs and into the workshop below. Though their parting was amicable and nothing less than quixotic, Rex could not shake the feeling that their mutual faith would soon be put to the test.

Just as he took a step toward the door, a streak of orange sheen from under the bed caught his eye. Rex came and knelt by the cot, reaching underneath until the feel of smooth metal cooled his fingers. Grabbing the object, he extracted it, and looked into the palm of his hand. "What's this?" he whispered to himself. In his hands was a small, wrist-sized communicator, the area around the dial glowing orange. The communications feed appeared to be open and a chill ran through Rex. After a moment, the orange light winked out, the channel disconnecting all together.

Rex tightened his grip around the tech, stowing it away in his pants pocket.

Upon exiting Ahsoka's small room, Rex was brimming with questions and copious concern. Why had the communicator been on? Who was on the other side? Had he simply imagined it? The clone sighed, knowing the answer to his last question, as he closed his eyes. From behind his eyelids, Rex could still see spots in his vision as he pictured the orange beacon. It wasn't something his mind had simply conjured up—no. Someone had been spying on them

But why?

Walking forward, Rex reached into his pocket and began turning the comlink over in his hand. As he headed toward the stairwell, disembodied voices filled the air with cascading overtones of disappointment laced with undertones of apathy. The plethora of emotions dipped and raised like ocean waves, frustration and confusion setting the pace of choppy, conversational currents. Pausing his forward progress, Rex eavesdropped from his secret outpost as he extracted the wrist-sized communicator from his pocket.

"Can I please borrow Gregor's communicator?" Ahsoka asked.

"Why do you need it?" Wolffe questioned.

She sighed with minor annoyance. "I can't seem to find mine," the Togruta answered simply. "I need to contact an old acquaintance about the spice and Mandalorian goods we found in the warehouse. It's very important."

"Seeing as you're no longer a Jedi, I'm not obligated to give it to you," he answered. "I don't have to follow your orders."

"Orders?" she squawked, taken aback. Rex frowned as an ember of defensive chagrin ignited in his gut. What was the Wolfpack commander thinking? "I haven't ordered anything. I was just asking." Without another thought, the 501st captain padded down the stairs with skilled silence in his cautious steps. "Why are you being like this?"

The moment Rex stepped onto the workshop's garage floor his amber eyes were glued to Wolffe's back. The grey painted plastoid armor he wore had seen better days. It was scratched and beaten, marred with dents and carbon scoring. Just above his shoulder blade was a hole the size of a republic credit, the rim of its blemish long carbonized. Commander Wolffe held his mending shoulder stiffly, not yet used to its recently healed state, before rotating the joint.

"Fine," Ahsoka sighed, "I'll leave you to it." As the Togruta walked away with sagging defeat in her stride, Rex watched her retreat into the office. Once the door had whooshed closed, the captain initiated the call-back command on the comlink in his hand. He was not sure what had come over him, but the rise of protective heat blazed within him.

Everything inside him wanted to be wrong and right all at once. Rex wanted his brother to be free from lowly conduct, but Wolffe was not above suspicion. His stomach flopped as he waited in anticipation. Not but a moment later, an electronic chirping erupted from one of the Commander's belt packs causing the clone to pat at his sides.

Just as Wolffe pulled the tech from his pack and pressed the silencing command, he looked over his shoulder and found Rex. The two locked gazes. The nonplussed expression Wolffe wore fled away, swiftly replaced with cool stoicism. "Rex, I—"

"Tion'narir gar gana'r osik par mirshe?" Rex challenged indignantly. Do you have dung for brains? Searching his one-eyed comrade-in-arms, he took a deep breath. The ire within had begun to spread as disbelief stung at him like a slap to the face. Part of him was shocked, but another part of him had seen it coming. "Tion'vaii cuyir gar ijaat?" Where is your honor?

Wolffe growled, "Excuse me? That is out of line, Soldier! Do not question my integrity!"

"Your behavior is out of line!" Rex spat. "Quit rationalizing your conduct as a form of justice."

"Ner?!" Wolffe questioned, placing a hand on his chest. Mine?! Taking a step forward, he glowered as his voice lowered in pitch. "What about you?" Wolffe's eye flicked up and down with discriminatory appraisal, staring coldly like the wolfish eponym bestowed upon him. "Skulking about like some lovesick dog—you're not fooling me!"

Stepping forward, Rex bridged the gap between them. They were close enough to knock heads, but he chose restraint even though everything within him demanded respect. "Ne shab'rud'ni," he stated through gritted teeth. Don't mess with me. His voice was just as low and gravelly, filled with anger and offense. "What was the purpose of you spying on us?"

"Confirming my suspicions," Wolffe bit back. "Your negligence could get us killed, or have you forgotten what we're dealing with?"

"I have not," he answered, gnashing his teeth.

"Think about it. She might not be a Jedi now, but what about later? What if she changes her mind?" the Commander questioned, backing off. "If she went back to the Order, then what? We have a conflict of interest on our hands."

"And what if she doesn't?" Rex countered.

"Tion'meh?" Wolffe sighed. What if? "Then what? What will you do? You're in it for the long haul, Rex. The rotations are long with back-to-back deployments. How can you stand to be divided?"

"Why do you hate her so much?" the Captain asked. "She helped save your life once, or have you forgotten?"

"No, I have not forgotten," Wolffe answered. "And I don't hate her. She's one of the Jedi I've come to respect the most."

"Could have fooled me," Rex bit, flippantly.

"What I do hate, however, is the sneaking around," the clone Commander stated. Running a hand through his hair, Wolffe huffed in frustration before turning away. Rex kept his thoughts to himself as he thought back to General Skywalker in the Temple's hanger bay. Images of Senator Amidala sharing a meaningful kiss with the Jedi Knight flooded his mind, and the way she called after him still rung in his ears. Rex could not help but look toward the ground in instant shame.

Was he a hypocrite?

Rex had no intention of lying about his feelings to anyone, but would wanting more than a friendship lead to the same secrecy that the General was always caught up in? Would he be consumed with paranoia like Skywalker often exhibited when Senator Amidala was present or mentioned? Was he the jealous type? Rex liked to think otherwise.

"I won't cover for you," Wolffe said.

"I never asked you to," Rex answered dismissively, before walking away.

"This isn't finished," Wolffe yelled after him.

Rex did not bother to look back as he volleyed, "It is for now."

Ahsoka was sitting in the office chair with her tablet in hand. She had gone past simply viewing the information on the screen and into staring at nothingness. Her mind was loud, racing with a million thoughts per second. All of which seemed to be jagged and self-deprecating. She felt hurt, numb, and out of place. When had things become so complicated? The Togruta slunk back into the fraying upholstery, wishing she could melt into the furniture.

The time she had spent away from the Jedi Order had done much good, but there were still more challenges ahead she had yet to discover. Wolffe's uncooperative demeanor was one of them. Ahsoka was unused to such immovability. She had often won the hearts of her comrade clones, their unyielding loyalty sprouting from the fruit of her goodness. Yet, even with all her veteran experience, she was an outsider. The hurt of disconnection—separation—was almost brand new again, bringing an old wound to the surface.

Setting the data pad onto the desk, Ahsoka closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. The weight of her montrals shifted forward, hanging freely from her shoulders. She took a moment to simply breathe, inhaling peace and exhaling stress. But the longer she attempted to reign in the serenity, the more she felt lost and afraid of her own failures.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself.

Just then, the door to the office swished open and closed. Ahsoka looked up and found Rex watching her from the doorway with stoic calmness upon his face. The clone's signature in the Force, however, was swathed with anxiety and jumbled in disarray. Standing to her feet, the Togruta met him at the door, and drew her arms around him. He reciprocated for a small time, but eventually parted to show her the object in his hand.

"Found this," he said, a small smile pulling at his lips. In his grasp was a small, wrist-sized communicator. Though it was modest in dimension, the gadget brought back many great memories; good and bad. Ahsoka smiled and took his offering into her hands before walking to the desk absentmindedly.

Her eyes were glued to the tiny device as she pictured in her mind the maroon vambrace and tunic she once wore as a Jedi Apprentice. Ahsoka then brought a hand up to her head, where her white-blue montrals met seamlessly with terracotta skin. The sensation of a soft, ordinary black leather headdress glided smoothly under her fingertips. The Akul teeth she had once worn, in addition to her outfit, were long gone—sold for the sake for her livelihood. She frowned, suddenly disappointed with her actions.

Though Rex watched her curiously, observing her actions with great attention, Ahsoka pressed onward as if nothing was amiss.

"Where was this?" she asked.

"Under your bed," he answered.

"I'm glad you found it," she smiled, pushing recent events far from her forethought. As she did, a great peace came upon her and Ahsoka's mind grew quiet. In the place of disorienting celerity, her thoughts now dwelled in graceful contemplation. "Well, here goes nothing." After pressing a series of buttons, she pressed the dial on the comlink and watched as the encompassing orange ring began to blink.

Ahsoka held her breath, oblivious to the fact that she waited with fragile hope. As she took leaning purchase against the desk, Rex walked over and did the same. He took up the space to her right, arms crossed against his chest, and silence on his lips. The communication's feed suddenly chirped to life, the comlink emblazoned in tangerine light, signaling the channel's establishment.

"This is Korkie Kryze," a disembodied voice spoke boldly. "To whom am I speaking with?"

"This is Ahsoka Tano," she replied, "you may not remember—"

"Ahsoka?!" Korkie questioned, nonplussed. "Is that really you? It's been ages!"

The Togruta laughed gently, "It has indeed."

For a quick moment the channel crackled, whatever noise on the other side warbling with feedback. "I don't have long to chat," he stated, "things are getting heated where I'm at. What do you need?"

"Right!" she answered quickly. "I discovered some crates here on Coruscant—connected to the Black Sun. They were filled with smuggled spice and Mandalorian artifacts—weapons and armor. Do you know anything about this?"

"Manda—" the link dropped out for a moment before the sounds of alternating blaster fire rounded off. "Do you have any of these chests in your possession?"

"No, I—"

"Ahsoka! Please!" Korkie pleaded, "if you can retrieve one, then it might be the key to getting the Jedi to approve a siege on Mandalore."

"A siege? Why would you want that?" she asked, looking to Rex. He and she locked worried gazes as their concerns continued to stack up. Ahsoka chewed on her lower lip as her cerulean eyes flicked away, focusing to a spot on the floor. "Does this have to do with your Aunt?"

"Yes," he yelled over the sounds of a distant skirmish. "She was murdered when Darth Maul and Death Watch took over Sundari. You're a Jedi! Don't you know anything about this?"

"No, I don't. I'm no longer with the Order," she sighed morosely.

"Then perhaps we can be of use to one another. Find and retrieve one of those chests. Then we'll talk." Korkie suddenly yelled, but Ahsoka couldn't tell if it was out of pain or surprise. "Korkie out!" The channel died just as the orange circle on the comlink went dark, leaving the two in ear-buzzing silence.

"Now what?" Rex asked.

Ahsoka sighed, "I guess we've gotta go back to the warehouse."

Korkie's request had instantly become a top priority on their list of to-do's. Without the slightest hesitation, they left Corbin's Repair shop in search of the evidence. The four piled into a single airspeeder and headed down the skyway. The cool, damp air current whipped past them as they hurtled down empty alleyway after empty alleyway. They had stuck to lesser used routes to avoid unnecessary attention. Seeing as the trio of clones were easily conspicuous to Level 1313 denizens, it was best to play it safe.

In the driver's seat sat Wolffe, and next to him in the front passenger seat, sat Gregor. The cracked commando would rattle off nonsensical directions, from time-to-time, mixed with random pieces of war stories in-between. While he prattled away, Ahsoka sat in the back, checking her vibroblades for the umpteenth time that drive. As she focused her gaze on the undefined tip of her blades, she listened to their distinct hum singing in her ears. Pleased to find that her weapons were in order, she quickly sheathed them in the holsters attached to either thigh.

Ahsoka took a moment to look around, examining the corridor with brief scrutiny.

The whine of the speeder's engine ricocheted off the walls of old buildings surrounding them, while the hood of her vest flapped wildly in the wind. To her right, sat Rex with his arms crossed and a stoic expression plastered to his face. He had been this way since Wolffe, and Gregor decided to come along on the trip. She was not sure what the problem was, but a gut feeling told her that something was amiss between the brothers. Maybe not with Gregor per say, but perhaps with Rex and Wolffe.

She said nothing, resigned to merely observing and waiting.

The moment they arrived outside the warehouse Rex gave her hand a quick, tight squeeze before jumping over the side of the vehicle. Ahsoka smiled and followed suit. Splitting up into pairs, Ahsoka and Rex took the front while Wolffe and Gregor took the rear. They entered the storehouse and searched the interior, meeting up in the middle without a single thing in sight.

The place was empty.

Somebody had gotten there before they could and cleaned the place out.

Ahsoka hung her head in defeat, she should have known that it would not be so easy.