A/N: This might be somewhat surprising, but I hope it's okay, and enjoyable, for the most part.

Ezra was exhausted, and with good reason. He was elated too. He was growing stronger in the Force, but with increased power came greater demands and accountability. Greater danger for him too. The Dark side, the blight that eroded the uprightness and principles of good souls, craved him. It went without saying that Kanan's bombshell about his growing susceptibility to the Dark side had the padawan teen on edge. The newly-knighted Jedi had nothing but praise for him. The way his student had guided those tibidees of Oosalon to them as the Fifth Brother and Seventh Sister had been all set to pounce, was truly inspired. Ezra's affinity with lower creatures awed Kanan, proving beyond any doubt that he knew what he was doing, training Ezra.

His learner, whom he saw as his son, would not fail him, regardless of what awaited them on Malachor. There were worse places to go, but not by much.

With heavy sighs, Ezra stumbled into, what he considered, the dreary quarters he, increasingly objected to, shared with Zeb. Though Sabine had lent some very positive decorative touches to the room, the place had a way of lending itself to the doldrums. Looking from left to right, on the spur of the moment, Ezra decided against going inside. Zeb wasn't there, but that wasn't an inducement for him to make the most of enjoying the place all by himself. A sudden restlessness had taken hold. He felt as if the confines of the Ghost could hardly contain him.

He had something on his mind, and the 'bee in his bonnet' wouldn't leave him alone.

Careful not to imbalance himself, believing that certain things were better left submerged in his subconscious, while others demanded to be acted upon, he pressed the panel in the wall and retreated from the dark space before him. There were faint tendrils of disturbance in the Force flitting about him. Should he hunt up a bite to eat for himself? At a time like this? Was he kidding? His stomach recoiled at the thought of eating as he thought about how his appetite was as fickle as his moods.

Adrenaline was the only sustenance he now required, that, and the carefully-hidden flasks of enor stashed in Sabine's quarters, underneath her bed. One would be sufficient. Well...maybe later. With aching knees, he sank to them before rolling off of them. Fingers, instinctive in wanting to relieve the pain, went to his knees. He dug them into the soreness so hard, the nail beds protested.

A few dark, foreboding feelings plagued him. Yoda, thought to be a help, sometimes wasn't. Their latest conversation had Ezra quite confused. His tongue twisted in his dry mouth, and seeing about the enor slaking his thirst seemed like a good idea again. Perhaps one of the better ones he'd had all day. It was just Sabine and he aboard the Ghost for now. Someone had to 'mind the store.' The Ghost was docked. Kanan and Hera, abuzz with information the cell could use, were meeting with Jun Sato aboard his ship. Chopper had insisted on going; he had a life too. There were always new droids to meet and swap binary with. Zeb clamored for not being left out too, which explained the empty quarters. On the off chance that there was a fellow Lasat to meet, he didn't want to miss out. Who had ever said Zeb and Chopper were two of a kind? So right that was. Never let size fool you.

So, increasingly thinking about how nice the mild intoxicant tasted, Ezra set off down the corridor wanting some. He gave no further thought to Yoda's disturbing doubletalk. Fight? Not fight? If they shouldn't fight, then how was the Empire going down?

"Stop it," Ezra barked at himself, standing once again on knee-aching legs. When he spoke again, it sounded more like an off-the-top-of-his-head monologue. "Kanan's a real Jedi Knight now. I wonder what those guards would have said if they knew how attached he is to Hera? They love each other even though they keep thinking they're good at keeping their 'thing' to themselves. Not so much. I don't think they would have made him one if they'd known. Wait. Maybe they did, but made him one anyway. He's that good." His relationship with Sabine was not open for discussion. The crew knew full well how close they'd become, but what they were to each other wasn't anyone's business but theirs.

Although, that could soon change...

Before guzzling some of the enor, Ezra considered going to the training area to practice several new moves demonstrated by Anakin in the hologram. Whatever it took to calm him down, despite stricken knees. There was something he couldn't put his finger on about Ashoka's former master that drew him, the budding Jedi, to Skywalker.

Bypassing the common area, he bounded for the companionway stairs. Ignoring the pain lancing his knees. With each height achieved, the more determined he was to never succumb to the Dark side, never sucked in like junk into a wormhole. Unthinkable! Yoda would be proud of him, and letting Kanan down was a consequence more horrible than death. When a familiar thought emerged, he was close to the training area. Sighing, he chose to bypass the intended route and head for the cockpit. Crawling through the tight space of a subsequent companionway, Ezra knew what he'd find there once he arrived.

This time, he was going through with what he kept putting off, painful knees and chilly feet, notwithstanding.

His love, his barometer, his reason for being even more determined to embrace maturity and responsibility than ever before, inciting him to be better with each passing day, was embroiled in a battle of sorts.

"Oh, no you don't. Not this time…"

The warning was one meant only for her ears. Cautionary advice geared to steer her back from the brink of defeat. The hand-held game she was trying to best was her favorite. Sabine knew, as she lounged in one of the flight seats with her legs dangling, that if she allowed herself a trip down her current road, she'd be hung out to dry. Taking a sharp breath, she forged along on her journey to victory. She blew an unruly strand of dark hair from her eyes, not hesitating before she executed a flawless counteraction that would crown her the victor. Just…one…last…play, masterful and sneaky, and—boksh! She'd done it; she'd won. "Ha! Nice!" she exclaimed, her flushed face smug, a stunning tableaux of winning realized.

Replete with her cunning success, she laid the game-lath aside and gazed dreamily out upon the wondrous star-field. Humming a tune, which sounded light and airy, Sabine delighted him, filling him with a sense of belonging. Belonging to her. She hummed as well as she put paint to textures.

He held back from intruding, wondering if she would feel he was if he interrupted. Was that an excuse? Come on, he berated himself. Be a man, like Kanan. Dallying in the cockpit's hatch-way a moment longer, he was caught up in the fullness of her sweet voice, having the power to perfect his every intention of going through with what was uppermost on his mind.

Tiredness lessening, nerves kicking in again, Ezra began to feel thoroughly enlivened. Almost euphoric. Force-he could do this! Should he? No need to imbibe enor when feeling this giddy, as though he could pull the ears clean off a gundark. Yo, maybe two, in succession.

Sabine's tapered fingers grasped up the game again to have a look at the kaleidoscopic place-scape, but chose to ignore the impulse of playing again. Instead, she opted for closing her eyes, which told Ezra to leave her to a well-deserve moment of peace.

Coward...

This is what I want, isn't it?

About to take off, he rocked back and forth on his heels, promising himself he would catch her at a better time. No time like the present goaded him.

Maybe he had better go check out the bump prominent on his nose, brought on by his slamming it against the jagged rock face of the cliff Kanan had saved him from falling from. Since signing on with the Rebels, his cute face had paid for it in dermis. Did Sabine have more of her miracle cream left? He doubted she did, no thanks to his tramas.

Her humming grew softer, as though she were on the verge of holding her breath, loath to exhale. Until she breathed, "How long are you going to stand there, not saying anything?"

"Sorry, Sabine. I didn't want to disturb you." How many apologies did this make? She brought out the apologetic in him.

"You're not." Pointing with an extended foot, she indicated he seat himself in the empty seat.

Ezra came forward and obediently complied, slipping in. Silence between them never felt more companionable. The silence afforded them time to collect their thoughts. He more so than she.

"It's the best…sitting up here like this. Hanging out in space, losing yourself in the universe. We're here in the Ghost, hiding out from the Empire, plotting its destruction." Her pregnant sigh reverberated in the cozy cabin. "Once all of this is over, I'd love to go beyond the Outer Rim. See what's out there, far, far away from this galaxy."

An eerie feeling gripped Ezra, and it lingered. She had said "I," as in not with him. Solo, minus him? Yikes! Did she think he'd been neglecting her? Because Kanan and he were always leaving on reconnaissance missions, all in the name of finding safe havens for rebel cells? Talk about his mood swings. What about hers?

If honesty prevailed, and they were working on that, they'd both had some beauts.

"Sabine…I've been thinking."

She resisted the urge to say, 'You…thinking? Since when?' Just because they were in love, that didn't mean she had given up 'dissing' him when he single-handedly set himself up. Sabine censured herself.

Innocently, she followed up, "About what?"

"Us…"

As her heart beat faster, she sat up rod-straight in the seat to study his face, which was a report of nerves and giving the impression of his being taken aback. She thought it wiser to let Ezra get what he felt he must say out without any coaching from her. She merely encouraged with, "Go on."

This was no time to bite his tongue, not that he made a habit of doing so. "Master Yoda…" Wait—had he ever mentioned the little green, revered Jedi master to her before? He wasn't sure. Oh, well, if he hadn't, now was as good a time as any to name-drop the gnome.

"The greatest Jedi who has ever lived?" Sabine respectfully rounded-out. She wasn't completely clueless in that regard. Ezra lived and breathed Yoda these days.

"Well, one of them, at least," Ezra modified. "He says if I'm not careful, with my powers growing and all, and my zeal for combat, I could be consumed by the Dark side."

"Couldn't we all," she muttered well under her breath. Her sobering eyes squarely on him, taking in every inflection, involuntary tell and intention, Sabine murmured, "Think you will be?"

In some minute way, he judged maybe he might be, which had paved the way for this frank discussion. The brink loomed larger. Ezra deemed she grounded him to the light. He couldn't 'go bad,' as long as he had her, practically welded at his side.

A fitting place for her to be, and vice versa.

At this point in time, Ezra felt compelled to tell it like it was. He never wanted to be without her, the heck with the Jedi rule to spurn attachments. These were different times without an Order. He could still be one and have his Sabine too. The way he saw it. Now was the time to tell her exactly how it was.

He sprang up from the seat, lunging for her, zeroed in on her hands, and snatched them up into his. Not all that delicately, he drew her to himself as if the Force was making him do it. It would be fair to say a little of the Force, and a lot of Ezra.

Here was peace, and fidelity, true happiness, loyalty, and love. Most of all love.

Once his eyes had slid closed, they were open again in a snap. He had a sexy, shrewd, stunner to gain. His universe. As Sabine searched his eyes, demanding to know the meaning of his sudden unpredictability, Ezra opened his mouth and three words, driven by angst and desire, sailed from his mouth…

"Sabine." That first one had come out readily enough, but the other two wreaked havoc with his composure. His messy crop of raven-colored hair fell into his disoriented-looking eyes, but Sabine dexterously brushed the glossy curtain back. His boyishness did strange things to her heart. Clouding any vestige of good sense she prided herself on having. His on-again, off-again resolve double downed. His voice strong, he blasted out:

"Marry me?"

She all but fainted, as she listed back into the flight seat, free falling. The stars beyond the transpari-viewport collided. Tumbling, tumbling through inner space she went. Sabine, agog, befuddled, and knowing she'd heard right as he hauled her up from the flight chair, awaiting her answer, spun.

She didn't have one for him, not at first.

Ezra crumpled. If she said no, would he stay, or would he go? Become a daredevil of a pilot, to further the cause, not looking back for one second. Maybe his going away was better than his staying, in the long run.

"Marry you..."

He nodded, looking like a shadow of his, for the most part, sure of himself self.

"Let me think it over?" She knew how that sounded, feeling him squirm. Her response was no overwhelming shout-out of approval for tying the knot. She wasn't being cruel, just honest. They were two who had no trouble rushing into things. Marriage had never crossed her mind. At his age, how had it crossed his?

His heart imploding, hanging his head down, Ezra nodded. "Anything you want, Sabine..." He watched her go, leaving him alone with his unsettling thoughts, and unable to stop himself from thinking he'd spooked her. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, she might forget he'd ever asked.