Archive of Our Own

~ "your hands are freezing" ~ bonfire ~

Fox

You hadn’t thought that the wild pack of men that had piled into your office a week ago would’ve organized well enough to complete all the necessary and repetitive forms needed to get what they wanted, yet here you sat at your desk with the permit–clearly marked “approved”–pulled up on your computer.

You chuckled to yourself, tapping the button on your desk for the intercom.

“Andrel? Can you comm the commander of the Coruscant Guard for a meeting?” you requested. “Fox, I think his name was.”

The line was quiet for a moment. “Really?” your assistant murmured.

“What– yes, really,” you said.

“No, like do you actually need to talk to him?”

You huffed in disbelief. “Yes, I do –”

The door to your office slid open, revealing the young Mirialan, moving quickly to sit on the edge of your desk. He leaned in, almost conspiratorially.

“I heard from some of the other assistants about him,” he whispered. “They said–”

“Andrel,” you groaned, hands rising to massage your temples. Your assistant was like a little brother to you; yes, you loved him, but he had an uncanny ability to find and press all your buttons. 

“No, I’m serious!” he protested. “They said he’s prickly! He’s got a bad attitude and he’s grouchy and terse and rude!”

“Andrel, I’m not going to avoid the meeting I should be having with him just because some of your friends said he’s an asshole,” you sighed. “I’m a middle management cog in the endless wheels of Coruscanti bureaucracy. I need to do my job.”

Andrel fixed you with a confused and slightly judging look–one you’d usually give to someone making a scene in public–but returned to his own desk with a shake of his head. 

A few moments later your intercom dinged. 

“Line one, boss,” Andrel hummed. 

 “Thank you,” you sighed, tapping the button. 

“Commander Fox?” you greeted. 

“What can I do for you?”

You could hear that the voice was the same as the few other clones you’d met, but this voice held the smallest hint of a growl like raxshir was waiting to pounce behind each word. It also sounded–to be blunt– tired .

“Well, Commander, I’m not sure how to tell you this,” you murmured in the voice you reserved for the various coworkers and other office workers you typically dealt with. “But I think I’m about to make your day a little worse.”

The Commander chuckled humorlessly. “Would you be surprised to learn that very few people actually can?”

“My assistant mentioned what office I’m calling from, right?”

“He did ,” Commander Fox hummed. “Not sure what the Head of the Coruscant Department of Public Event Permitting could want from me .”

“Well, I had a visit from a few troopers last week,” you started.

From the other end of the comm, you could hear something hit against something else with a faint clunk followed by a long sigh. “Maker, please tell me they weren’t mine?”

“I can’t say I’m fully versed on the different colors they were sporting, but there was a pair in red who seemed to be in charge of the…” you trailed off as you thought. “The… gaggle? Herd? What do you call a group of somewhat unorganized troopers?”

“A ‘clusterfuck’,” he offered, somehow sounding more tired than when your conversation began. “Who’s on your forms?”

“Um, let’s see…” you scanned through the documents until you came across the ‘organizers’ field. “Looks like they’ve got CT-4477 and–huh, that’s funny– CT-7744 as the event’s main organizers. But, like I told them last week, they are not recognized as citizens by the Republic–ridiculous and… frankly, horrifying as that is–so they’ve got… Obi-Wan Kenobi and Bail Organa signed on as the official sponsors.”

The line was quiet again. You could hear another clunk , followed by the shuffle of footsteps and a door sliding open.

“ Thire! Thorn! My office in ten minutes or I will kill you myself! ”

You stifled a laugh as the footsteps returned.

“My apologies,” Commander Fox said, his tone sounding nearly exhausted. “What exactly is it they’re planning?”

“That’s why I’m calling,” you said. “Would you believe me if I told you that they managed to correctly fill out all of the datawork to host a bonfire outside of 79s?”

Once again, you were met with silence.

“Honestly, I’m just impressed they had all of the correct forms and that everything was filled in correctly on the first try,” you continued. “That’s less common than you would think.”

“You said Kenobi is somehow involved in this?” the Commander half-groaned. 

“Yes, he’s signed as one of the sponsors–”

Fox sighed. “Not only did two of my commanders organize all of this, no doubt pulling in their buddies from other units, but they got my twin to do the datawork and his General to sign off on it all.” He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Thank you for the heads-up. It would be a great help if you could forward the forms and permits to my office; it’s going to be impossible to organize the guard that night.”

“Not a problem, Commander,” you hummed, eyeing your assistant as the doors slid open. “I’ll send that right over.”

“Thank you… I– I’m sorry, I don’t recall your name.”

You chuckled lightly, reminding him as Andrel smirked.

Fox thanked you again, this time by name and with another apology.

You smiled at the comm unit on your desk after the call ended.

“So you’re going, right?” Andrel grinned wickedly, the geometric tattoos shifting across his skin.

You blinked up at him. “Going?”

“To the clone bonfire! I know for a fact that at least some of these men are exactly your type.”

You whacked his arm. “I don’t have a type !”

“Yes, you do ,” he laughed. “You like the grumpy ones–broody and mysterious.”

You could feel your cheeks warming. “No–”

“You do! Remember when we were at that fundraising event with… oh which ones were they… ah– the 104th! Didn’t you go home with that commander with the cybernetic eye?”

You were certain your face was redder than the Guard’s armor. “I didn’t ‘go home’ with him; he walked me home !”

“Sure, hun,” Andrel said. “Anyway, you should go!”

You sighed. “I don’t think this is something they’d want… people like us at, you know? Would they really want to hang out with a… not-clone bureaucrat?”

“I know they would because a couple of them stopped by to let us know they received the permit and thank us for helping them by inviting us to the party.”

Kriff .

Two weeks later, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you as the chilly updraft from the traffic pushed against you. You’d never been to this section of Coruscant, but you could tell you had the right level as you gradually saw more clones and fewer other people–‘ natborns ’, Andrel’s new boyfriend had explained to you–in the crowds around you. 

You could hear the cheers and laughter of similar voices as you approached, followed closely by the smell of cheap beer. It almost reminded you of attending university.

“There you are!” Andrel called, pushing through the crowds with his boyfriend and another clone in tow. He thrust a disposable cup of some kind of drink into your hands. “You remember Fives, right?”

The trooper, whom you’d only seen in armor, gave you a crooked grin. “Good to see you again,” he said.

“You too,” you smiled, taking a sip from the cup. 

“This is Echo, my twin,” he said, gesturing to the poor trooper who looked like he’d rather be just about anywhere else. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said. 

Echo gave a nod. “And you.”

“Echo here is an ARC Trooper,” Andrel whispered loudly, wrapping his arm around you. “ And he’s single!”

Echo also looked like he wanted to melt into the ground. You gave him a sympathetic smile. 

You couldn’t help the face you made as the alcohol burned your throat. “ Maker ,” you panted. “The hell is that?”

“Jungle juice,” Fives grimaced. “Don’t worry, they’ve got other drinks inside.”

“ We are going to be dancing,” Andrel laughed, his cheeks and nose a deeper green than normal. He was definitely a few rounds in. “Go get a drink with Echo and then find me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved them off, chuckling.

Echo was polite but quiet and as soon as your well-meaning assistant and his kindhearted brother were out of sight, you saw him visibly relax a bit. 

“Listen, you’re very nice, but–”

“I’m not your ‘type’, right?” you finished for him. 

Echo sighed softly. “Sort of,” he admitted. “It’s more like I don’t have a type– no, that’s–” he huffed. “I’m not interested in… any of that,” he shrugged, quickly adding “Not that I think you wouldn’t be a lovely person to– ah, it’s just that I don’t really– does any of this make sense?”

You smiled. “I understand, Echo. You haven’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

The tension eased from his body, but only for a brief moment as he gazed into the crowd. 

“What’s wrong?”

Echo sighed heavily. “I’ve got to go wrangle our shinies or at least one of them is going to the hospital or jail.”

“Yes, I think it’d be best if you intervene,” you laughed. 

He started to walk away but stopped, then turned on his heel to face you again. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “You ever need anything, the five-oh-first’s got your back.”

You smiled, and shooed him off, then wove through the crowds until you found the bar, which was less packed to your relief. 

“What can I get vor you?” the twi’lek bartender asked as she threw a towel over her shoulder.

“Can you make a Hyperdrive?” you asked.

She nodded and set about her work, quickly mixing the drink and placing it before you. You set a few credits on the bar and nodded your thanks.

A clone sat a couple of seats over from you. “Hey Teva,” he greeted the bartender. “Didn’t know you worked weekends.”

“Ah, Vox!” she half-shouted with a smile. “Just zhis once vor zhe party. You want your usual?”

The clone nodded. And you snuck a glance at him. Something struck you as familiar, but you couldn’t quite place why beyond the obvious.

“ Fox !” Another clone shouted, his hands landing roughly on the other’s shoulder. “You don’t come out with us often enough!”
Wait, Fox ? You started to wonder if this could be the same commander–whose voice you hadn’t been able to get out of your head since speaking to him last week–but you were quickly answered as the clone spoke again. That same tone, rolling like thunder that you’d heard over the comm met your ears. 

“ Bly ,” Fox grumbled. “I swear to every deity of every planet in the galaxy, if you don’t let me get at least one drink alone, I will tell General Secura about the dream you told me about.”

The pair bickered back and forth, but you found you couldn’t make out most of it as you simply stared at Fox.

He wasn’t quite what you were expecting. Obviously, he still looked like the other clones, but as you met more of them, you couldn’t help but notice the differences between them. 

His hair was a mess of short, dark curls, streaked with a grey that most of the others you had met didn’t have. A light scar stretched across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. You couldn’t deny that it was attractive to you, nor how you found yourself fighting the impulse to run your fingers through it. 

“What brings you to the clone bar?  Especially with all that nonsense outside,” his voice broke you from your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed that he’d shifted one seat closer to you; not far away, but not too close–though it still quickened your heartbeat. 

You cleared your throat. “I was invited to the party, actually.”

Fox scoffed. “Poor soul.”

About a hundred possible responses flew through your mind, but nothing landed in your mouth, so you chased the silence down with a few sips of your drink. 

After a moment, Fox huffed quietly. “This is going to sound weird, but you sound familiar to me.”

You grinned. “We’ve talked,” you said, surprising yourself with your coyness. 

One of Fox’s eyebrows quirked up. “That so?” 

As you smiled into your drink, he dropped the number of stools between you from four to three. 

“Let’s see,” he drawled. “I don’t think you work at the senate.”

“What, I don’t look senatorial?” you gasped with mock disbelief. 

Fox chuckled and smirked. Damn , you thought. That shouldn’t be that cute .

“I’ve met almost all of the senators,  I know you’re not one of them. And at the risk of sounding like a jetii , you don’t have the right… energy for an aide.”

“Oh? What energy is that?”

“They’re almost always either frantic or pompous,” he shrugged as he moved so only one seat sat between you. “So you’re not from the senate.”

“I’m not from the senate,” you confirmed with a grin. 

“I haven’t met you in person, so obviously you’ve never been booked through the station,” he smirked.

You chuckled. “What makes you think you haven’t met me in person?”

“I never forget a face,” he shrugged, taking a long drink from his glass. “And one like yours? Definitely not.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “I commed you about the party,” you finally admitted. 

Fox smirked. “Damn, that was my next guess.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you chuckled.

“So you decided to take the boys up on their invite?”

“It was more to appease my assistant more than anything else,” you hummed. “I’m surprised you’re not on duty; you made it sound like it would be all hands.”

“I might not be on shift in an official capacity, but anyone who knows who I am knows to behave while I’m looking,” he scoffed into his drink. “They’re good guys, but you add that… jungle whatever monstrosity they’ve mixed up out there…”

“I'm sure,” you said. “Hopefully, they’ll hold off long enough so I can get out of here before the chaos begins.”

Fox eyed you and quickly finished his drink. “I know a way to make sure you get away before it.”

“Really?”

Fox nodded, leaning toward you conspiratorially. “Here’s the plan: you finish your drink, and then we go anywhere else,” he smirked, his eyes burning into yours with the intensity of a sun. You felt your heart jolt as he reached toward you, laying one of his gloved hands over yours. “Would that– Osi'kyr! ” His hand jerked, but he didn’t pull it away. “Your hands are freezing!”

You laughed. “It’s windy and I lost my gloves,” you explained.

“Yeah, alright,” Fox scoffed. “We’re going somewhere inside then.”