A/N: This year my Christmas holidays are going to be 12 hours long night shifts at work. I've been trying to write some fluff, to at least partially make up for sad Christmas. The recurrent problem is, fluff can barely be distinguished from all the other elements of my writing. Overthinking, low self esteem, variety of fears and worries, mild PTSD even, just name any unhappy stuff of similar sort and it's probably already there somehow, making fluff hard to spot. It's there though, I think.

"Just move already, you fuzzball!"

Pile of purring fur slowly stretches out into Loth-cat shape, then hesitantly leaves its napping place at Commander's side. She smiles at the man approaching with steaming mug in hand from above own share of mulled wine.

"You don't seem to like that cat. Too stealthy for you, master spy?"

Theron snorts, while making himself comfortable at the freshly vacant seat.

"It's just shedding too much. Besides, it always takes best spots. And this one's mine."

It is his spot. The man simply belongs here, cuddled up against her on a narrow couch. Just the two of them snuggling closely, sipping hot drinks, watching people having a good time; a perfect finish to a perfect evening, the Life Day party at Odessen base.

The base is especially bustling tonight. Many people have returned from assignments just to be here, so the crowd is quite impressive. As a result, it's been an extremely loud evening, with laughs and cheers and music, with chats and games over food and drinks; like any proper Life Day party should be. All the friends and brothers-in-arms, the big sort-of-family, are celebrating bonds that survived countless conflicts; that made it through tides of galactic politics. For this once, grim reality of blood, death and tragedies is pushed away to loom in shadows, while the day is all about joy and companionship. It wasn't particularly easy to set aside funds for this, but some rest and relaxation is a must. In the end, the effort was totally worth it, and Commander sighs with satisfaction.

At her side, Theron sighs too. He looks happy but tired. Fair enough, they both have been actively participating in preparations as well as festivities, so the day is bound to take its toll on both, eventually.

"It's been a long year, hasn't it? And the past weeks were kind of intense, with the whole Ord Mantell business. Not a place where one usually expects such activity".

"Yeah, true. Haven't had any reason to visit the planet for years. But all the work done there sure has brought back some memories. That's where I've lost my ship for the first time! Laugh all you want, but believe me - it wasn't funny back then."

Of course, he is laughing. That calls for a solid elbow jab. Well, it would call for one, were it anyone else. All Theron will get is a half-hearted nudge. But it really wasn't a funny thing back then.

"Seriously though, it was a fresh start, in a way. First time had to work so closely with another person. For so long, too. Teamwork, trust against the instincts, these were new things. Took me a while to open to such ideas. And just look where we are now, thanks to teamwork and trust lessons."

The woman is positively beaming with pride sharing the reflection. Theron though bears a surprisingly serious look. Something troubles him, and he carefully picks the words.

"I've been wondering, how are you getting along now," he asks eventually, nodding in the general direction of pazaak tables. A lot of familiar faces there, just some belong to people more precious than others.

At one of the tables Risha is playing stars-only-know which round already, with Corso snoring just by her elbow. At another, Akaavi is having a drunk banter with bunch of Mandos from at least three different clans. Return to Mandalorian community as a capable and trusted warrior seems to serve her well, come to think about it. There's also the table where Guss has just won a game. If he was cheating with Force skills - he probably was - Lana will soon find out and will take him down a peg or two, for sure. Half the base might be able to hear the confrontation, knowing these two; just like half the base is acutely aware of several Wookiees celebrating Life Day with the crowd. Commander could swear that Bowdaar makes the most noise of them all, though it might be just that his excited roars are the ones she's most familiar with, so she hears him best.

The realization hits anew and it hurts all over again. Her crew has accomplished so much, went so far, while she wasn't even able to watch. Courtesy of carbonite freezing, they'd been violently removed from each other's lives.

"I wasn't out there when they needed me the most. They weren't here when I needed them the most. We're not the team we used to be. There is no return to that," Commander bitterly admits.

She's not entirely sure whether Theron has meant the whole of her old crew or just Corso. Her partner had never questioned the decision to invite Corso into the Alliance, not even once. He never seemed to have any suspicions about her ex-husband's intentions, either. What she said though still applies, to Corso as much as to her entire old crew. There is no return to how the things used to be. Does that really need clarifying?

Heck, maybe it does.

"Look, Zakuulan invasion was a beginning to some things, and an end to some, true. But my marriage with Corso had started falling apart way before the invasion, before the Revanites even. As it stands now, we're not even actual friends, not anymore."

"That's not what I -"

The apologetic glance he gives her, it proves she's been right. It was about Corso after all, no matter how he tried to sugarcoat it. Meaning, Theron can overthink stuff and worry about nothing just like she so often - too often - can. Luckily, he does seem to be ashamed of whatever weird idea had crossed his mind, as it's definitely not wine that brought blush to the man's cheeks so suddenly.

"Look, I'm just worried about you and your people -"

The blush deepens as he realizes lousy choice of words fast.

Should she be mad over the blatant lie? Probably yes. Is she mad? No. At any rate, she's about just as poorly skilled with verbal communication when it comes to conversations so personal. As long as each is aware what the core issue is and what needs to be done to solve it, bad wording can be simply forgiven and forgotten.

"Told you how things look like. But they're not just mine - they're our people, Theron. And we all have to care for each other, so that we can fix something about this mad world together, right?"

The man looks so very relieved with the way she has glossed over the blunder. He nods, then snuggles closer to press a long soft kiss against her cheek. His mug of mulled wine is probably long cold by now - hers is - but, with a shy smile, Theron raises it anyway.

"Happy Life Day," he whispers.

Happy Life Day. Here's hoping everybody can make it, together, until the next one.