AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I told myself I wasn't going to post anything for a while but this story hit me yesterday and I just really like it. I always thought that Ahsoka seemed a little cool and detached when she and Rex are reunited in Rebels. To me this story explains her decision to lessen her attachment to him.

This fic is a part of a series of Rexsoka fics. The order is a little hard to get right on FFN so if you really want to read the whole thing in the right order, feel free to check it out on AO3. The fics that happen before this one are chapter 1, 3, and 4 in Stronger Than Fate, and Another Friend in the Snow. If you don't want to read any of that, you don't really need to know anything except that Rex and Ahsoka were very close by the end of the war, and that Ahsoka has been in love with him for a while now.

The cantina was dingy and disreputable, but Ahsoka had seen worse. Her work with the Rebellion had taken her many places she'd never expected to go, but that seemed to be a pattern in her life. She'd never expected to become a Jedi, never expected to become a soldier, never expected to become a spy. Not much to do about it but keep going.

A dark hood covered her montrals, but her unusual silhouette still drew stares as she made her way into the belly of the bar. It made life a little more difficult as a spy, but Ahsoka was used to her work by now and the unwanted attention did little to discomfit her. She walked up to the Mon Calamari bartender with perfect ease.

"One Corellian whiskey," she said.

"Coming right up."

She drank the burning liquid slowly, her eyes scanning the cantina's patrons with each sip. Nothing looked out of place—no law enforcement as far as she could see, and nobody that looked like an Imperial plant. Still, it wasn't always easy to tell.

She finished the drink then signalled for the bartender again. "Another of the same, please," she said, setting down enough credits for both drinks plus a generous bonus. "Also I'm looking for someone who can help me move some cargo. Care to point me in the right direction?"

The bartender extended a suction-cupped finger towards a table in the far corner where a solitary Human man with close-cropped blond hair nursed a bottle of beer. She nodded her thanks to the bartender, then returned her attention to her drink. She liked to take her time considering her approach. It also helped to not look too desperate.

"Waiting for someone?"

Ahsoka looked up from the amber liquid and into the eyes of a tall Twi'lek man, his sharpened teeth glinting in his smile and his long, purple lek wrapped around his neck.

"I never wait," Ahsoka said, returning his smile with a predatory grin of her own. He wasn't the only one with sharp teeth.

The man laughed and claimed the stool next to her, waving to the bartender for a beer. He leaned closer to Ahsoka and she could smell a pleasant musk coming off him. Ahsoka had never spent much time among her people, but she could still tell that Twi'lek smelled closer to Togruta than Humans. It was comforting, somehow.

"I like that. You want to not wait somewhere else?" the Twi'lek said.

Well that was fast, Ahsoka thought to herself, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Though to be fair, she was the one who'd set the tone. She opened her mouth to say no, then found herself hesitating, if only for a moment. Even now, years later, she sometimes had to remind herself that she could say yes if she wanted to. She wasn't a Jedi anymore.

She'd said yes twice since leaving the Order. Just kissing, nothing serious, but even kissing was a big deal for Ahsoka.

The first time it had been a Togrutan man, and though she wouldn't have done it if he hadn't seemed nice, it had mostly been to see what it was like. She'd met him in a cantina almost like this one, but on a colder, less hospitable planet. He'd been sweet and nervous, and she'd known that he wouldn't try for anything more than she wanted. It had been nice, and something about his warm body and curling montrals reminding her of a home she'd never really known. She'd cut things off pretty quickly though, curiosity sated and practical concerns reprioritized.

The second time had been with a tall, imposing Zabrak man who'd seemed like a perfect opportunity for Ahsoka to experience a thrill of danger without ever truly needing to put herself at risk. She'd just heard rumor of Luminara Unduli's execution at the Spire, and she'd been feeling self-destructive. It had felt fun and good; it was Ahsoka's first experience with pure, simple lust. It had shown her both that lust could be fun and exciting and that, intoxicating though it was, she could maintain control of herself. She'd let his hands roam a little further than the first man, but ultimately she'd walked away from the Zabrak man, too.

Neither of those men were who she really wanted.

"Thanks but no thanks," she said with a not-too-friendly smile.

The Twi'lek man sneered at her in annoyance, but left when he didn't get a reaction. Ahsoka watched him leave, unimpressed by his display of temper and glad she hadn't seriously considered him. She was on a mission, anyway, and she didn't have time for that sort of thing. She refocused herself on the task at hand.

She asked the bartender for a bottle of whatever the man in the corner was drinking, then took it with her to his booth. She set the bottle down in front of the man before sliding into the seat across from him.

"I hear you can help me with some transport-"

Her words cut off as she got a good look at his face—a face she's seen a thousand times before on a thousand different men.

Ahsoka's eyes widened as she took in the familiar features of many a friend, mentor, ally, brother-in-arms. Even more shocking than the man's face was his hair. Very few clones managed to escape Imperial service, and even fewer of those had blond hair. Her eyes flitted to where the incision to remove the inhibitor chip would be, but there was nothing there.

There was nothing there.

The corner of the man's mouth turned up knowingly. "Just got one of those faces, huh?"

Ahsoka cleared her throat and took a swig from her drink, eyeing the man carefully as she did so. She was caught off guard by how much older he looked, though in her head it made sense. The clones should be aged to around the mid forties by now.

"Yeah, I'm sure you hear that all the time," she said, trying to compose herself.

"Not as much as you'd think."

This was how old Rex was. The thought was like a punch to the gut. Not that the man sitting across the table from her looked frail or decrepit, just that time was moving so fast. It had been five years since she'd heard from Rex, and ten since she'd seen him. This is what he looked like now.

Rex's double raised an eyebrow at her as he took an indulgent drink from the beer she'd brought him, and Ahsoka realized she'd let the silence stretch between them too long. Time to get back to business.

"I'm looking for secure transport of some goods. Heard you were the guy to talk to."

"You heard right. I'm fast, secure, and discrete. I charge a fair price considering those qualities, too."

Ahsoka allowed a small smile. Normally she liked to vet her smugglers more thoroughly to make sure there was no chance of Imperial involvement, but the cell on Crait was in urgent need of supplies. And besides, she had a good feeling about this smuggler. Clones didn't generally leave Imperial service on good terms with their former overlords.

"I'm Ashla," she said, reaching her hand across the table.

He took it, the specific texture and temperature of his fingers unnervingly familiar. "Enzo. Pleased to meet you."

They confirmed cargo, timing, pickup and dropoff location, and payment all within the next half hour. Enzo was professional and efficient, and they struck up the kind of immediate rapport that usually preceded a powerful friendship.

"Some of the cargo needs to be carefully temp-controlled. Is your vessel capable of that?" Ahsoka asked.

Enzo nodded. "Certainly. I'm docked close by, if you want to check it out for yourself. Wouldn't want your men to show up with the cargo tomorrow morning only to realize it's not suitable."

The invitation could be a trap, but something told Ahsoka it wasn't. And even if it was, she was confident she could handle herself. She smiled and nodded, getting up to follow him out of the bar with a gleam in her eye.

They made their way through a series of narrow, mazelike alleyways, and as they walked Enzo moved further and further into Ahsoka's space. Ahsoka let him, allowing her hand to brush his and her laughter to come faster and easier. By the time they reached his ship, a bulky but serviceable light freighter, she felt lighter and bubblier than she'd felt in years.

She followed Enzo up the gangplank and they went first to the cargo hold, which looked perfectly adequate. Ahsoka made a point of inspecting the temperature controls, but everything checked out. Enzo continued the tour, going first to the cockpit, then to the mess, and finally to the crew quarters. His ship was older, but maintained with obvious love and attention to detail. Ahsoka couldn't help but smile to herself as she recalled a pair of Deecee's whose owner refused to replace them, opting instead to polish and repair over and over until they'd no longer fire.

"And that concludes the grand tour," Enzo said, turning back to Ahsoka after explaining the layout of the living quarters. There was no reason for him to show her this much of his ship, and Ahsoka knew it. She didn't mind.

"It's a fine ship," she said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall.

Enzo stepped closer to her with an easy smirk on his face, his eyes warm and eager. "I'm glad you think so."

He may have had the body of a forty-five year old man, but Enzo was still handsome. The slight fading of his blond hair at the temple was distinguished, and the crow's feet extending from his eyes spoke of geniality and laughter rather than weariness. His copper-toned skin was just the shade Ahsoka remembered, his thick eyebrows the same shape.

"You clearly know how to take care of it," Ahsoka said.

Enzo took another step towards her and raised a hand to one of her lek, letting his fingers slowly and carefully glide down the surface of her skin. "I hope I'm not reading you wrong," he said, voice quiet and serious.

"You're not," Ahsoka said, a little breathlessly.

"Good."

His hand slid up Ahsoka's lek and landed on her cheek as he moved forward, capturing her lips in his. Ahsoka hadn't kissed a Human since Lux, and his body heat was cooler than she expected, but all thoughts of comparison and xenobiology fled Ahsoka's mind as Enzo's other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

His hands were broad and confident, moving across her with the dauntless grace of someone who knew their way around a blaster. Ahsoka immediately moved to touch his face, her fingers just teasing at his hairline as she deepened their kiss. His skin was weathered but not unpleasantly so, the texture adding depth to the softness.

He walked her backwards with first one foot, then the other, then her back was flat against the durasteel wall. Ahsoka's hands fell to his arms, feeling along his well-used muscles to map out a shape she had known only by sight for so long. His nose nudged against hers and he tilted his head sideways while one hand climbed up her back, reaching for her back lek. Ahsoka gasped and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, overwhelming Ahsoka's senses. She let herself sink into the kiss, following his lead and savoring the brush of his tongue against hers.

She felt him smirk against her lips, and he pulled away, his eyes dark with focus and intent. He winked at her, a gentle playfulness softening the intensity of the atmosphere, and he grabbed her hands, pulling her away from the wall and towards his quarters. Ahsoka didn't even think before following after him. She was pushing at boundaries she'd never before approached, but it felt right.

He sat her down on the end of his narrow bunk, then advanced on her with a teasing grin as he slowly lowered her back onto his blankets. Happiness looked good on him, and Ahsoka felt her chest tighten with love and affection. He was safe. He was doing well for himself. That was all she'd ever wanted.

He hovered over her, a quirk to his mouth and a wicked glint in his eye, and Ahsoka swallowed. Well, maybe that wasn't all she'd ever wanted.

She reached for the back of his neck and pulled him down to her for another kiss, relishing in the weight and substance of him against her. She played with the hair at the back of his neck for a little—the short, wiry strands there so different from Lux's long, luxurious hair—then slid her hands down to his torso. Her fingers splayed out across his chest and she imagined feeling the scar she knew was there underneath his shirt—evidence of a life of violence left not long ago, a reminder that one stray blaster bolt could have ended him.

He hummed in appreciation of her attention, then moved his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking the skin just under her jaw. His hand strayed from her waist, sliding down her side and resting dangerously low on her hip. One thumb teased at the inside of her hip bone, sending a sharp spike of something molten right through Ahsoka's blood.

An involuntary groan left her mouth and she snaked her hands around to his back, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"Oh Rex."

His thumb stopped and his mouth stilled. Ahsoka froze, opening her eyes and looking up at Enzo in shock. Enzo. That was his name.

The fire immediately went out in Enzo's eyes, and he slowly sat up, taking a seat next to Ahsoka on the narrow bunk.

Ahsoka just lay there for a moment, staring up at the slate grey ceiling and hating herself.

The quiet stretched between them for a few long moments. Ahsoka closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then tried to sit up. Enzo held a hand out to help her, and she mumbled her thanks before finding a spot next to him. She could leave, but it didn't feel right. For one, she needed to confirm that he'd still take her shipment the next day, and for another… She felt like she owed him an explanation.

"Is he alive?" Enzo asked.

Ahsoka twisted her hands in front of her. "...I'm not sure."

Enzo sighed and shook his head, a distant look entering his eyes. "I hope he is. Too many brothers lost."

Ahsoka nodded, as if a simple nod could express how deeply she agreed with that sentiment. Hot liquid pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over but not quite overpowering her self control.

"I'm sorry, Enzo. You're not interchangeable, and I never should have… I'm sorry," she said, rubbing at her eye with the heel of her palm.

Enzo was quiet for a beat, then he chuckled. "Well, I've never made a girl cry by kissing her before. It might take me awhile to regain my confidence."

Ahsoka let out a half-hearted laugh. "You have nothing to worry about, as I'm sure you know."

"Yeah, well…"

Enzo trailed off, and for a moment Ahsoka was seized with the urge to tell him about Rex. To explain how much he meant to her, to tell him how they'd been separated ten years ago but still kept in touch via comm. Then to tell him how five years after their separation, the messages just stopped. She wanted to tell him how worried she was, and how looking at Enzo's face and seeing the passage of time written in it, she thought it might already be too late.

But that wouldn't be fair to him. She'd already used him enough tonight.

Ahsoka got to her feet and dusted off her skirt, righting her clothing and gathering her wits about her.

"Um, well… My people will be here tomorrow at 0700?" she said.

Enzo nodded, a little absently.

"Great. Um… A pleasure doing business with you," she said, reaching down a hand to him.

He looked up at her, a complex combination of emotions churning in those familiar golden-brown eyes, then shook her hand. "Likewise."

Guilt stabbed at Ahsoka's heart once again, and she forced herself to maintain his gaze. She never wanted to be a source of pain to anyone, and most especially to a clone. "I'm so sorry," she said again, holding his eyes.

His crow's feet deepened as he smiled wryly up at her. "It's alright, sister. ...I can see that you care about him a lot, and that means something."

Enzo walked her to the gangplank of his ship and waved goodbye as she disembarked, trusting her to find her way back on her own. It was a strange and abrupt end to their encounter, but Ahsoka had no one to blame but herself.

As Ahsoka made her way back through the labyrinth of alleyways and sidestreets, she wondered where Rex was and what he would think if he knew what she'd just done. Then she wondered if he would care at all. He hadn't bothered to contact her in five years, after all.

Ahsoka sighed and let her head fall back, giving her a breathtaking view of the night sky above. The planet's atmosphere was thin and clear of opaque gases, giving her an unobstructed view of the galaxy splashed across the heavens. She knew what Master Unduli would say if she were here. She would say that Ahsoka needed to let go.

Ahsoka had held Rex tightly in her heart for years, since before the Clone Wars had ended, if she was being honest. Since then she'd decided that the life of a Jedi wasn't for her, but perhaps she'd overcorrected her personal philosophy. Clinging so tightly to her connection with Rex, hoping so stubbornly for his return, for his love—it was obviously not good for her. And now she'd gone and allowed that pain to spill over onto someone else, someone who didn't deserve to suffer because of her own weaknesses.

The Jedi couldn't have been wrong about everything. In fact, Ahsoka understood that they were right about a great many things. Perhaps it was time for Ahsoka to accept that Rex didn't want to be a part of her life, and to let the piece of her soul that belonged to him free.

The tears she'd managed to fend off onboard let loose, and Ahsoka paid them no heed as they streamed freely down her face. Her eyes remained fixed on the stars, her thoughts on the Force. For many years the Force had felt like a friend, always there to aid and comfort her in her time of need.

Her love for Rex had also felt like something the Force approved of, something that it would conspire with her to eventually actualize. But now, staring up into the wide, cold galaxy, she realized the truth. The Force was a great, cosmic power. Wonderful and terrible, it was neither friend nor foe, and it had no opinion on her or her relationships. It had no connections and no desires; it felt no pain. Perhaps, for once, she needed to learn something from that.