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The first time Anakin realized he was in love with Rex was when he put Leia in his hands.
Alright, so he should have noticed sooner. Months sooner. Years, maybe. In his defense, fighting in a war, losing a friend, then having a war mysteriously collapse on them took precedence over some pesky feelings.
Rex smiled down at Leia, sort of helplessly, and Anakin folded his hands behind his back to stop himself from doing something stupid. He looked to Padmé to check whether she’d noticed his flailing, but she was slumped against the pillows with her eyes closed, Luke resting safely on her chest. Giving birth to two whole humans took a lot out of you, turned out - especially when you started the day by an eight hour filibuster on the Senate Floor, protesting the establishment of sanctions against Separatist worlds rejoining the Republic.
His wife, everyone. Anakin could cry how proud he was. He did, earlier, when he got to hold his children for the first time.
Leia mewled. “Um. Anakin?”
Anakin turned back to Rex. “Yeah?”
Rex nodded towards Leia and made a pleading face. “You’re doing well,” Anakin told him. “She’s happy with you. If you want me to take her back, though…”
“No! I’m good. We’re good, right?” Rex murmured to Leia. She didn’t react of course, but Anakin could sense the contentment of her simple mind: sated-soft-warm-heartbeat.
It was a good thing the only one with eyes on him was the medical droid patiently waiting in the corner, because his face did something really soft and possibly awkward to explain.
He checked on Padmé again. They needed to talk. They had talked about Rex before: yes, Rex was always welcome in their home; yes, that meant he didn’t have to look for his own place, there were enough rooms in Padmé’s residence; yes, Rex was a friend to them both; no, Anakin wasn’t allowed to be jealous when Padmé and Rex went out without him, he grew up as a magical warrior-monk and he had no idea what normal people did for fun; yes, Rex was still welcome to stay after the baby was born, he was family.
…huh. They’ve talked about Rex a lot.
“Anakin?”
Padmé hadn’t opened her eyes. Her voice slurred a little, the way it did when they fell asleep cuddled together in their bed, talking about nothing. “Yes, love?”
“We should ask Rex to marry us.”
…what?
The first time Padmé realized Anakin was in love with Rex was during a random breakfast.
It was about a week after Palpatine died, during that odd, unspoken cease-fire period before the Separatist coalition fell apart and planets started to petition for peace. The 501st was idling on Coruscant, ready to deploy any moment, the Senate was doing its best to descend into utter chaos and take the Republic with it, and she and Anakin gave up on secrecy and played house in Padmé’s apartments for everyone to see. Padmé was done; if the Order or the public had an issue with a Jedi in her bed, they were welcome to confront her about it. She had a democracy to save.
Rex was a surprising, but not unwelcome addition to their setup. He, presumably, had a bunk somewhere in the Coruscant GAR facilities, but Padmé’s residence housed her whole staff already - there was enough room for one more man. Even if he spent most of his time in her living room.
Things between them were awkward at first. Anakin expected them to be friends and acted like it from the start, and while Padmé had met Rex before and held a certain fondness for him due to Anakin’s stories, it was all a bit much.
As it turned out though, Rex felt the same way. Soon, she found herself exchanging awkward grimaces and exasperated glances with him over Anakin’s shoulder, quick “I’m sorry, he’s—“ “I know” on the stairway, and then… well. Then they were friends for real.
But. The breakfast. It was boring. Unremarkable. She was half-listening to Anakin babble about his newest improvement of Artoo’s toolset, already thinking about her workday. Then there was a pause in the stream of words, and when she looked up, she found Anakin watching Rex and she knew.
Rex was reading something on a datapad. Well, had been. Now he sat with his eyes closed, head propped up on a fist and in grave danger of dropping down onto his plate. And Anakin… Padmé knew Anakin’s expressions by now. Happy, determined, angry, frustrated; tired, content, vulnerable, offended. The one he wore now, watching his captain - his friend - asleep over breakfast? That was love.
Her first reaction was “not now”. Not anger, or jealousy, just a bone-weary refusal to deal with this atop everything else. She didn’t want to do the necessary soul-searching to figure out how she really felt about it. She didn’t want to discuss it with Anakin, who even at his best was a minefield when it came to emotions. She didn’t want to… and so, she didn’t. Anakin loved her. Rex was a friend. She had a job. Everyone told her to pick her battles? Well, she wasn’t picking this one.
The first time she realized she was in love with Rex was when he wore a dress for her. It was a joke, at first: “Will you put me in a dress?” when she took him clothes shopping for the soirée she would host in three days.
“I could, if you wanted.” She knew the clones weren’t that kind of backward, or all men for that matter. Still. “Would you like me to?”
He hummed. “I could try it.”
Her tailor brought them the pieces they had ready-made in Rex’s size. “Do you want it to be feminine?” she asked Rex.
“Would it still be a dress if it wasn’t?”
“Hmm. Good question.” It was. “Many pieces of clothing worn by men could be called a dress based on construction, but aren’t.” On Naboo, elders in position of power often wore robes - but they were not dresses, even on women. “If dress implies feminine, then— sorry.” She bent her head over the dresses to hide her flaming face. Heavens. They weren’t there for her to get lost in philosophical questions about costumery. “Do you like any of these?”
“Don’t apologize,” Rex said. “It was interesting.” He had this tone of voice he used when he really meant something and wanted you to know it. It was her favorite; that, or the wry one he used when Anakin was especially himself. “This one, maybe?”
She helped him put the dress on. She felt nervous, faced with so much bare skin, but he clearly didn’t; either he trusted her or he’d never learned to be body shy.
She tugged at the slightly gaping neckline. “It would need some tailoring.” He looked well, though: the cut was right and the color complimented his complexion. She caught herself staring at the line of his neck and shoulder, so close that she could… “What do you think?”
He tilted his head at his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t think it’s my style. I like this though,” he ran his hands over the bodice. “It feels solid.”
“Boned corset. Even a basic one might stop a knife slash.” She grinned at him. “As a queen, I used to wear ones made from armor weave.”
His eyes sparkled. She watched him smirk to himself and she thought, oh. I did not expect that. The desire was understandable, bodies were bodies and he was a well-built man, but she wanted… more. Something else. A kiss. A touch. To make him grin with joy and mischief again.
Drat. Now she had to figure this out after all.
When did he realize he was in love with Anakin? He didn’t remember. It felt as if he always had been, from the first moment he met him; something as integral to his personality as his batch number. CT-7567, in love with General Anakin Skywalker.
He realized he was in love with Padmé when she told him she was pregnant.
He came home - er, to Padmé’s residence, where he’d been staying for the last few weeks - and found her sitting on the balcony with her head in hands. She looked up when she heard him on the stairs, but from the face she made he wasn’t who she was hoping for.
He tried not to take it personally. “Sorry. Anakin is at the Temple.” Of course she’d rather see her… boyfriend, lover, whatever they were, than the freeloader he’d brought with him who then failed to leave.
She smiled at him, but it looked more like a grimace. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just… I need to tell him something.”
That did not sound good. He sat beside her on the sofa. “Is everything alright?”
“Well,” she drew the word out, “that entirely depends on your definition of ‘alright’.”
Uh-oh. “Tell me.”
“I’m pregnant.”
That. Uh. Rex was sure there was something natborns told each other in this situation. He was also sure he had no idea what it was. “That’s… good?”
“It is! It’s great! I mean…” She winced. “I think it is. Anakin… we’ve never talked about it. And the Jedi Council… they’re still pretending nothing is happening between us,” and they had to pretend really hard, Rex was sort of impressed, “but if there’s a child… and what if they’re Force-sensitive? What am I saying, of course they’ll be Force-sensitive! But I don’t want to give them up. I won’t. But if they give Anakin an ultimatum, or if it’s the baby or Anakin… or what if I keep them, and they struggle with the Force? Or what if someone else—“
“Hey.” He put an arm around her shoulders. Not something they did, but if there was a moment for it, this was one. “Breathe. Anakin won’t leave you. The Jedi don’t steal babies. And anyone else who might try will have to go through your security, Anakin, and the entire 501st.” He waited for her to take a few deep breaths. “And… if Anakin doesn’t want to have kids… I’ll help.”
She blinked at him. Her face was very close. He sort of wanted to kiss her. Not a new thought - excuse me, who wouldn’t want to kiss Senator Padmé Amidala?! - but this really wasn’t the time.
“You would? You would.” She smiled, then leaned her head against his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He sighed. Had he really just offered to co-parent his friend’s baby with his girlfriend? That was a very friendly thing to do. Absolutely.
…he was an idiot.
He rested his cheek on top of Padmé’s head. “Congratulations. They’re gonna be very pretty, very clever, and an absolute menace.”
The tiny bundle of a newly-made Human in his arms made an unhappy sound. His heartbeat probably jumped up. In his excuse, what the fuck?!
“Padmé?!”
Oh no. That was not a Calm and Collected General Skywalker. That was the furthest from it Rex has ever heard.
Padmé must have heard the tone as well. With great effort she blinked her eyes open, looked around the room, and cringed. “Oh no,” she said in a tiny voice. “We never had that talk.”
”…angel? What talk?”
Padmé made a pained sound. “I have stitches in my cunt,” she complained to the ceiling. “The one about you being in love with Rex? And me being in love with Rex? And - and I’m sorry Rex, I don’t want to speak for you - those feelings likely being reciprocated?”
Anakin gaped. “…what? How? I mean, yes, but… how do you know? I’ve just—“
Padmé rolled her head on the pillow to look at Anakin. Anakin shut up. “There was a war,” he tried.
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Her eyes sought out Rex’s. “Rex…”
The uncertainty in her voice broke his karking heart. He carefully sat down at the feet of her bed and tried his best at a smile. “Yes. You’re right, of course, both of you. Did you… did you mean it? Is that even legal?”
“The marrying part?” She smiled. “Yes. We would have to have a new ceremony for the three of us, but both Naboo and the Republic law recognizes multi-member marriages.”
Anakin’s eyes went huge. “Wait. You mean. I could have both of you?!” His voice jumped an octave. “Not just… something, kind of, but a real marriage, all three of us, as equals?!”
Padmé nodded. “Yes.”
“Shit.” The visitor’s chair screeched across the floor, just in time for Anakin to crumple down on it instead on the floor. A few high-pitched giggles escaped his mouth. “Does that mean we’d all be their parents?”
Oh, fuck. Fuck. He looked at Leia, still somehow asleep in his arms.
“It would. Would that…” Padmé turned to him. “That wouldn’t be a problem for you, would it?”
“No.” Scary as all hells? Yes. A problem? Absolutely not.
“So.”
“Wait!”
Padmé gave Anakin a mock-serious look. “I get to ask this time.”
He smiled at her, one of those soppy smiles Rex used to pretend really hard he didn’t see. “And you’re even in a hospital bed.”
She turned to Rex. “Rex. Will you marry us?”
He grinned. Shouldn’t I get a kiss first, he was so tempted to joke, but honestly? He didn’t care. Besides, he didn’t want to disturb the baby. “Yes.”
He’d get that kiss later. The war was over. They had the rest of their lives.