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Your favorite muscian plays through a cheap knock-off speaker inside your open tool-box. It's doing little to cheer you up though, because whatever you ate for breakfast (rations) is disagreeing with you. Just like dinner (also rations) disagreed with you all of last night. No amount of pepto-bysmal, ibuprophen or tylenol fixed the sharp, stabbing pain in your abdomen.
The nat-born medic in the med bay that night, the one in charge of all of the mechanics, intelligence personal, and other non-clone personnel personal health, had brushed you off and sent you out of with what was functionally a middle finger.
Needless to say, despite your love for the soft melodies, you were not in the mood for love songs. Not when you were on your back, under a TX-30, almost shoulder deep replacing the mechanics for the hover pads. What kind of terrain could destroy the bottom of a tank that hovers is completely beyond you, and cursing whatever member of the 501st completely scrapped the underside of this force-damned piece of equipment completely distracted you from your unexpected company.
You were one of the few women who worked on the resolute, and the only one who did any sort of blue-collar work in the hangar. Which also meant that wherever you went, there was always a clone around the corner, waiting to help you or complement you or offer you a ration bar or something for a sliver of your attention.
Which was annoying, unless it was Fives. Sometimes, especially when you didn't know him as well, he was the worse offender of annoying you, with cheesy pick-up lines and carrying heavy boxes and walking you to the mess hall because "a gorgeous lady like yourself needs all the nutrient she can get, must take a lot of calories to be that pretty."
When you first met him, you wanted to push him into active gun fire. Especially when you heard of his casanova reputation amongst the troops and female communications officers. But then, slowly, through charming smiles and silly jokes, you developed a hesitant friendship. And despite the active flirting and terrible sex jokes and pick-up lines, you had also found comradery and vulnerability and kindness.
The moment you realized you had romantic feelings however, was about seven months into your friendship with him. Two communications officers were idly chatting in the mess-hall, on the other side of the table you were by yourself at.
"Have you seen Fives around recently?"
"No. Did something happen to him?"
The first girl pauses whatever she was doing on her data pad to make eye-contact with the second. "I don't think so. All his paper-work says he's alive and well, and I still see him in halls. He's just not acting like… himself."
Why the hell were these girls talking about him? Like they knew him, no less? A spark of jealousy warms your chest, feeling like it was burning from the inside, before you throw back some water from your cup.
"Like, not flirting with every female staff ? I'm pretty sure that's a good thing."
"Well, I'm worried. What if he's been replaced by a shape-shifter?"
The other girl barks out a laugh at that, and you can't help it too, coughing into your fist to protect your eavesdropping. "Maybe he grew out of his 'oh maker, I love women' phase."
That makes you laugh for real, and then they both look at you. Unlike them, your hair isn't slicked back and perfect, and your uniform isn't ironed and starched and gray. Your hair is falling out of its hair-do, you're sweaty and covered in grease, and your dark blue cover-alls are stained and wrinkled. You're their total opposite, and you both realize that at the same time. Two very different worlds on the same ship.
"I'm so sorry. I just. Fives has been flirting plenty," you wheeze out.
And then they stare harder. "Not on the communications deck. Not with the intelligence and distributions officers. Not even with the female medics on staff. No-one has complained about him flirting in the group chat for months."
"Wait," you say, holding up your hand, "there's been an all girls group chat dedicated to complaining about Fives and no-one invited me."
They look sheepishly over at eachother before the second girl speaks up, "We didn't know you existed."
"But," the first girl says, "if he's not flirting with any of the women we know, who is he flirting with?"
"Me? Because I'm a woman?" You answer. And then the two girls turn and look at eachother, and understanding crosses their faces immediately. And then they get up and leave. You didn't even get their names. Bitches.
At least he wasn't flirting with other women anymore, just you.
You circle back to that thought while staring at the slop they served in the cantina that day. Why in the sith hells would you think that?
Oh no.
Oh kriffing no.
Something clatters from your tool box, and you tune out of your thoughts of pain, rage against RHE manufacturing company for inventing the TX-130, and your thoughts of Fives and his smile and his bad jokes and-
"Oh kriff." Said a voice that was definitely Fives. Your patience was running thin today, between the asshole medic who refused to run a urine test or do an abdominal exam about your pain, to the unusual amount of damage to the tank, the last thing you needed was Fives knocking things over.
"Fives?" You call out.
"Kair'ta!" He exclaims once he finds your legs sticking out. He recognizes the little blue heart patch he gave you, the one you stuck on your boot.
"Did you knock over my stuff, again?" You want to ask him what 'kair'ta' means. But every time he dodges the question, and the one time you asked echo he choked so hard on his rations Jesse had to do the Heimlich maneuver. You just gave up.
"…No."
You take a deep breath and untangle yourself from the mess of wires and slowly push yourself out from under the tank. "I appreciate you dropping by but." You pause and slowly pull yourself up into a sitting position. "I'm in a really bad mood right now, and do not need you dropping my tools on my speaker. That music is the only thing keeping me sane right now."
You wince as you go to stand up, leaning on the tank for support. Fives quickly rushes over to help, booted feet almost stepping on your toes, one hand under your armpit and the other around your waist and pressing directly on where it hurts most.
You hiss through your teeth and squint your eyes closed. Its stabbing even worse as he realizes he jabbed you in the stomach and gently releases his hand from your abdomen. Its sharp and intense, like your body decided it was ingesting glass instead of gray cantina slop. You'd compare it to being stabbed, but you've never been stabbed before. Thank the maker for that blessing at least.
"Hey," Fives says. And you look up at him and see his face set in a gentle frown, brown eyes looking at you in concern. "Are you okay?"
You nod vigorously, trying not to focus on the wave of nausea that hits you like a truck. It's been coming and going all morning. "Yeah, I'm—"
"Well, you're crying, so I don't think you are. Where do you hurt?" He's already leaning you up against the tank, and undoing your tool belt while you try to swat him away with gentle hands.
"Just a stomach-ache. 'M fine."
"Don't believe you. On a scale of one to-"
"I'm sorry, are you a medic?" You snap at him. "I said I was fine, it's just a stomach-ache. Medic from last night said so."
"An'edee—"
"Fives, listen, I'm totally…" And the wave of nausea that wracks through your body interrupts you for yourself. He looks up at you from his knees, where he's been holding your hips steady.
"I'm taking you to the med-bay. Right now." He's got this firm look on his face, that makes you not want to dare to argue with him. You've never seen it before, but this is what you imagine he looks like under his helmet when he's doing suicide drills with the Torrent Company.
You try to take a step to the side. Out of his personal space. But you stumble. Between the pain and the nausea and the way he looks up at you, your knees are trying to give out. You watch him as he presses a button on his comm link to talk to Kix.
"Fives. What do you want? Over."
"Need to bring in one of the mechanics for severe abdominal pain. Do you have a free bed? Over."
"Do I have a free bed? Fives, we just left our campaign. If we have one—" he looks behind him for a second, "actually we just discharged someone today, so yes, we have a free bed. Over."
"Bringing her in now. Over."
And before he can hang up the phone Kix demands he waits a second. "Fives, does it hurt more when you press down on the injury, or when you release it? Over."
Fives goes to do it again before you smack him. "Release. It hurts more on release. Over."
Kix says your name over the transmission, surprised. "Wait, release? Kriffing sith hells." He mutters to himself. "Alright, get to the Med-Bay, ASAP. Over" And Kix hangs up before Fives can ask anymore questions.
"He always gets the last word in," he shakes his head to himself.
"Because he's a medic," you reply smartly, "also, if you press on my abdomen again, I will kill you, and I will make it look like an accident."
Fives just smiles at you. "Alright, an'edee, lets get a move on, medic's orders." And before you can argue anything, he's scooping you up off of the ground into thick muscular arms. Not that you could tell under his full kit.
Your eyes go wide as dinner plates as he casually struts out of the hangar bay like he owns the place. He's on good terms with mostly everyone here so you suppose no-one would give him any trouble. Even you direct superior just waves at him as he walks by holding you in a bridal carry.
"That was my boss, Fives," you whisper at him.
"And?"
"And he's going to ask questions, you kriffin' di'kut!" You smack one of his shoulder paldrons for emphasis.
"Well he didn't," Fives says. He pauses for a moment. "Di'kut? Who taught you that?"
"No-one. I hear Rex calling you that and I just assumed it meant some variation of dumb-ass." You loop your arms around his neck to keep yourself somewhat up right.
"Please don't puke on my kama." He whispers softly.
"And if I do?" You're not going to, you'll make sure of it, but you're curious on what he'll say.
"I'll forgive you but I'll still be very sad."
Getting to the bed bay was the easy part, and Fives gently laid you into a bed Kix had set up while waiting for you to get there. Luckily, the med bay was near the hangar for obvious reasons, but it made the trip short.
A part of you wishes it was longer, because, well, you were being carried by Fives, and a part of you wish you dragged yourself by your finger nails, because well, Jesse and Hardcase saw you get princess carried by Fives, and they would never stop teasing you about it.
"I'm already pretty sure I know what it is," Kix says after sending two medical droids to prep the surgery room.
"Oh?"
"But I need to run some diagnostics first." He turns to another medical droid. "Get me two bottles of contrast, and then set up the CT-scanner for abdominal imaging."
Fives pulls up next to you in a chair that had been on the other side of the med bay. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the whole time." And he holds your hand, and rubs gentle circles on your knuckles with his thumb. You just glare at him, because tired and in pain and he's being suspiciously nice. You don't trust this.
Kix redirects his attention back to you. "I'm going to do an abdominal and pelvic exam with my hands first, and then you're going to tell me your pain and how long it's been lasting, okay?"
You nod at him. The medical droid comes back with contrast and Kix quickly sends it away to get supplies for an IV. He turns back to you and continues. "And then after that, you're going to drink both bottles of contrast and I'm going to get you a CT scan to confirm my suspicions."
"And if you're right?"
"We rush you to emergency surgery."
"That's grim."
"Well, that's medicine." Kix puts his rubber gloves on, and snaps the elastic at his wrist. "Do I have consent to touch your abdominal area?"
You nod in consent as he immediately starts probing as your bloated stomach area over your clothes. "Normal bowel movements?"
"Yes."
"But you're bloated?" He questions.
"Don't talk about your poop in front of me." Fives jokes.
Kix shoots him a look. "This is your future riduur, you're the one that's going to be holding her hair when she's throwing up."
Fives laughs when you look at Kix questioningly. "What a riduur, Kix?"
"The torrent company decided not to teach you any mando'a until you've reached a certain requirement."
"Which is?" And then you sob as he push right into the tender spot. And as his hand slowly releases you feel like your entire abdomen is on fire. You end up sobbing out another 'ow' before falling all the way back on the med slab.
"Did it hurt more on the release?"
"Obviously!" You whisper shout at him, holding a death grip on fives hand. He winces at the strength of your grip but says nothing.
Kix sighs, hard. "On a scale of one to ten—"
"Eight." You interrupt him. "Now get me enough tylenol to kill a rancor or die trying."
Kix laughs. "You're getting more than tylenol. Start drinking the contrast so I can get the imaging done faster. I'll go get you something a little stronger." He stands up from the little stool he's sitting on and starts to walk away, summoning Fives over with a hand wave. They're whispering, but you can't hear what they're saying. At all.
"Kix. What's happening?" Fives asks. He's eyes are glossy with worry, his mouth sags at the corners and his brows are furrowed.
"Nothing to terrible, we caught it in time," Kix supplies in a whisper, "I can't officially diagnose it until the CT imaging comes back, but I'm positive it's appendicitis."
Fives nods like he understands Kix. He doesn't. "And when will she be better."
"In 20 or so standard cycles after surgery. In the mean time," Kix pauses, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "we're going to give her some morphine to take the edge of until the surgery room is prepped. It should take about 3 hours."
Fives nods. "Morphine. The pain med." And then realization dawns over his face. "Morphine is the pain meds we gave Rex back on Feluca! Where he kept crying about how much he loved us for 20 minutes straight before he demanded hugs from General Skywalker and passed out on his lap."
"The very one." Kix says. "And she's getting about the same dosage. So be prepared. And go make sure she drinks her contrast fluid!"
Fives is back to the med slab before you know it. "How much of the contrast have you drank?"
"About half the bottle." You say. You put the bottle to your lips and take a few gulps. The bottle is almost empty.
"I'll buy you drinks at 79's if you finish both before Kix comes back?" Fives offers.
"Bet. How long do I have?"
Fives looks around the curtain and doesn't see him, before scooching his chair back dramatically. You've already cracked open the second bottle. "He's getting you the good stuff from the secured medicine cabinet. The one with the locks and override codes."
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I'm getting the good stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Oh god," you whisper to yourself, "I'm going to die."
"Not if you drink that contrast fluid fast enough."
You throw your head back and chug like you life depends on it. About three seconds in, Fives has begun chanting "Chug! Chug! Chug!" That's what kix walks in on, holding a tray with two small glass vials on it, amongst other medical supplies you don't recognize.
"Good job. It's time to get you some medicine." Kix says. He's still shaking his head at you though, as he sets everything down and puts on a new pair of gloves. "I'm going to do this intro-veinously," he states, "so you're going to give me your arm and I'm going to put a needle in it. If you don't cooperate, Fives is going to hold you down."
"I've always wanted to." He adds, unhelpfully.
You look at Kix, "how many of the clones are scared of needles?"
"All of them."
Luckily, you are not a clone, so inserting the IV goes without a hitch. You squeeze Fives's hand a little tight, but nothing more than that. Kix takes some blood samples while he's there, to run for bacterial causes, and then slowly flushes the blood out of the tube with saline.
"Alright, I'm give you zofran for the nausea, and morphine for the pain, are you allergic to either?"
"Nope." You say, your head is resting to the side, looking at Fives. You should really tell him, a part of yourself thinks. "Fives I-" you stop at the weird feeling of the medicine being pushed into you.
"You what, kair'ta?"
You roll your eyes at him, moment ruined by that same pet name. "Never mind, I'll die without confession."
Kix shakes his head. "The morphine will kick in soon, you'll end up saying it anyway."
Fives nods. "Yup. I just have to wait." He seems too smug for someone watching his best-nat-born-friend die.
You give him the finger with your good hand, the one that was holding his earlier. He'd never let go of it the whole time, you had realized. "Kriff you."
"Not until you recover from surgery."
You roll your eyes at him, and your head rolls with it. "Huh?"
"Yeah, it kicks in fast." Kix says, before helping you into a wheelchair. "Time for your CT-scan, by the way."
Fives starts pushing you towards a room behind the main area with the med-slabs. Kix opens the door, and gestures towards Fives, "also, Fives, I got permission from the captain to have you keep an eye on her until she goes off to surgery."
You notice Fives's face light up through all the cotton in your head and the slight sway of being higher than cloud city on pain meds. "Fives?"
He looks down at you. "Yeah?"
"You have the bestest smile…. Like ever."
He looks at Kix, baffled, before turning to you. "I think that title belongs to you, kair-"
"KIX I HAVE TO PEE."
Kix helps you on to the bed attached to the CT-scanner. "No, you don't. Just hold it, two minutes for me."
"Nuh-uh."
"It's the liquid contrast, I promise you're not going to piss yourself." It sounds like a conversation he's had thousands of times. Probably because he has. Liquid contrast is infamous for making your bladder decide that it's go-time as soon as you get inside the CT-scanner.
The CT-scan goes off without a hitch and is sent off to the main computer and auto-saved in your records, and Fives is rushing you off the med-slab before you can say anything and helping you to the bathroom attached to the CT-scanner.
"Hurry, I have to go!" You whine at him as he unzips your coveralls and helps you get everything far down enough to sit down on the toilet. You're not embarrassed at all, through all the drugs in your system, all you can focus on is the pressure in your bladder.
"I'm doing my best here, kair'ta," he says back before give up, pulling everything down to your ankles and then pushes you by the shoulders down onto the open toilet seat. "Now you can go."
You look up at him, pupils dialated almost up to the edge of your iris. "Will you hold my hand?"
"While you piss?"
"Yes." You confirm.
"No."
Fives turns around to look at Kix, who has heard everything and is dying laughing against the med-slab for the scanner. "What are you laughing about?"
"You should hold her hand, Fives," is all he says before crumpling to floor like a wet paper towel, the fit of laughter he has possessing him like demon from a cheap horror movie.
"I hate everyone here."
You're back in on the medical slab, a thin, scratchy blanket over your legs with your head turned to the side, watching Kix work on a data-pad. He turns to you, seeing you dazed out of your mind.
Your second does of morphine and zofran had just been administered, and he's passively monitoring you to make sure you don't get too high. This is also the most interesting thing to happen in his career since Hardcase accidentally ate a family sized bag of rylothian-shroom gummies. So he's also here to watch that.
"You're cleared for surgery in two hours, by the way." He says, before typing again. "And I've talked to mechanic head and got you on medical leave for 14 cycles, and then 7 cycles of light work."
"Ohs."
"You're welcome, by the way."
"Question."
"Shoot." Kix doesn't look up from his data-pad.
"Where is he?"
"Where is who?"
"The pretty boy." You ask. And that makes him look up.
"The pretty boy!" You say, vaguely gesturing with your hands, "the pretty boy with the number on his forehead and the fuck-ass goatee!"
Kix hides his chuckle behind a cough. "The fuck ass goatee." He repeats. Slowly. Cautiously. "The pretty boy with the number on his forehead and the fuck ass goatee."
"Yeah. Gonna marry him when we get back to Courscant."
He makes a face of vague surprise. "You're going to marry him." He repeats back to you.
"If I can find him…"
"Turn your head, di'kut."
Frankly, between the stress of everything, and the does of morphine, it feels like slowly turning a crank to get your head all the way to the other side. And then you see him, a small smile on his face, holding your hand. He's been holding your hand this whole time, but you can't process that through the fog of drugs.
"Hi, pretty boy," you coo at him.
"Hi kair'ta." He presses a small kiss to your knuckles. It tickles and you can't help out the giggle as he blows air through his nose on the slightly wet spot he left. He's so handsome, with his fuck ass goatee.
"I do not have a fuck ass goatee, by the way."
"I," you start, "I said that to Kix, not you." And you frown at him.
"You also said it just now." He looks too smug to be offended. "To my face."
"The face with the fuck ass goatee." You repeat.
That gets a chuckle out of him. "How high are you?" He asks.
"Higher than cloud city."
"Good." He says, still holding your hand. They're so warm, and you feel so safe with him right here. You can't help but look at him. He's so pretty. You tune out the sudden beeping in your ears, its only you and Fives. You love Fives.
You love Fives.
Fives.
Fives.
Fives.
Fives.
Fives.
You love him. Like a lot. A lot, a lot.
"Hey!" Kix says, running over. "Whatever your doing, stop that!" He points at Fives.
"I'm not doing anything, ori'vod!" He puts his hands in the air, finally letting go over your hand.
Kix looks at you, and then looks at Fives. "Her heart rate jumped up about 15 beats per minute, so you clearly did."
"She's just been staring at me, so clearly, I've been doing nothing." Fives turns to you for defense, and you look back at Kix.
"Maker, you're high as cloud city right now." Kix tactfully observes. Except it wasn't.
"I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for. What did Fives do."
"I don't know. He was holding my hand, and I started thinking about how much I love him." You say. "I really love him."
Kix raises one eyebrow at you. "You were holding hands?"
"Yeah." You turn to Fives. "Hold my hand."
"That's quite the demand, kair'ta," Fives responds, but grabbing your hand anyway. "Anything for my darling little princess."
"I'm your princess?"
"Yes."
"Yay!" And you wiggle like a delighted little slug because that's all you can will you body to do. "Would you love me if I were a worm?" You ask Fives.
Kix takes that as his queue to leave, and his laughter follows him through the med-bay as he makes it back to the half-assed work station he set up near by to monitor (spy) you.
"Would I love you if you were a worm?" Fives asks himself.
"Yes." You repeat. "I would love you if you were a worm. I'd build you a little terrarium and feed you the best food you could feed a worm."
"Well," Fives starts, "I think it'd be very hard to do all the things I want to do with you if you were a worm."
You pout at him. "You wouldn't love me if I were worm?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all, kair'ta!"
"What does kair'ta mean?"
The complete change in topics completely mess with his brain, but he reels himself back in, because of course you're like this, higher than cloud city in a med bay with the "pretty boy with the fuck ass goatee". And you just said you loved him. Like five times. And told kix you wanted to marry him. And your heart rate speed up when you realized he was holding your hand. Fives doesn't come to the conclusion he should. In fact, he comes to no conclusion at all, because he's trying to assess how high you are, and whether or not you'll remember any of this.
He comes to the conclusion you're blasted like a space cruiser and that you have the frontal cortex function of a crushed soda can, and decides maybe he should tell you. He clears his throat. "Well-"
"You better tell me, you've called me it several times today alone."
"I was!"
"Good." You huff at him. And he laughs, before placing your hand in both of his. He ignores your heart rate speeding up.
"It means." He breaks eye contact with you, and you miss his gorgeous puppy brown eyes. "It means my heart, my desperate heart. It means you're the one thing my heart wants so badly in this life."
You're whole face lights up. "You love me back!"
"Yes. I love you back." He says cautiously. It's then that he realizes what he should have realized about 10 seconds ago. "You love me back!"
"Lets get married."
Fives's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Married?"
"Yeah. Right now."
He looks at you. "Do you even know what your asking?"
"Fives, I have the rings. Look at my fingers. Let's get married." You say. "Wanna marry you."
"You wanna marry me?"
"Yeah. And have kids with you."
Fives can hear Kix chuckling in the background. But he chooses to ignore it. "Let's get married first, at least."
"Lets get married nooooooooooow." And you pull the ultimate move. You look at him with your best puppy dog eyes and poke your bottom lip out a bit. This has to work. It always works when you want him to go drinking or sneak into the kitchen to steal chocolate sauce or whatever shenanigans you normally get into.
He sighs. You look objectively ridiculous. But the puppy dog eyes and the earnestness of someone only as high as a cloud city proves a lethal combination.
"Okay."
"Yay!" And he squeezes your knee before you can resume your gleeful slug wiggles. "We're gonna get married right now."
"Can you repeat after me?"
"Of course." You look up at him again, and when he holds both your hands in his, the moment feels oddly serious. But all the cotton in your brain makes your eyes water and your mouth dry. You really love Fives.
"I love you too, but that's not what I need you to repeat."
"Oops."
He chuckles. "Let's try again. Repeat after me: Mhi solus tome."
"Mi solus tome."
Kix makes a gesture just on the inside of Fives vision. His sticking his index finger inside a whole made by the fingers and thumb of his other hand. Ass wipe. He turns his attention back to you. "Mhi solus dar'tome."
You take a deep breath. "Mhi solus dar'tome."
"Mhi me'dinui an."
"Mhi me'dinui an."
He presses a kiss to your hands again. "Mhi ba'juri verde."
"Mhi ba'juri verde." You smile at him so sweetly, and he leans down close to your lips, his breath a hairs width away, but he stops. "Can you kiss the bride?" You ask.
And he does. The kiss is gentle and sweet, his lips ghost gently over yours, and it only lasts a second, but you swear you feel static electricity as your lips part. If you were force sensitive, you would assume this is what it felt like to pulls something towards you with it. Because despite the fact his head was moving farther away, his lips were closer.
And then you feel a warm hand on your opposite shoulder. You back away from Fives and look to see Kix, gently pushing you back to your horizontal position on the med slab.
"Alright, Mrs. Fives, that's enough kissing from you," he says with a chuckle, "don't need you making those warrior children in my med-bay right now."
"Damn it." You mutter. "Would love a baby right now."
Fives busts out laughing at that one, he lets go of your hands to slap his knee. His face is scrunched up as he chokes on it, and tries to get his composure before busting out laughing all over again. And you can't help but join him too, and then it hurts and your taking deep breaths through the pain instead.
"Hey. Deep breaths Mrs. Fives," Kix says with a firm voice, "came to give you your third does of morphine."
"Oh." You present him your arm, and hes already attaching the syringe to the plastic valve and tube attached to the inside of your elbow. It feels weird as he pushes the morphine in your system, and then a separate syringe for the zofran, but by the time you blink twice it's all done.
"Fives." You say for his attention. He looks over. "Da rings."
"The rings."
"Yes, I need to put a ring on your finger." You say earnestly.
He nods, looking down at your fingers. He doubts any of those rings would fit his fingers. He wonders why you wore any of them to work. You were an enigma, so he moves his mind on from the topic.
He watches as you pluck a ring off your thumb, and gingerly grab his left hand, and clumsily locate his middle finger.
"Wrong finger, mesh'la."
"Oops." You smile at him, and then attempt to put the ring on the proper finger. "Wait."
"Yeah, looks like it doesn't fit." He shrugs it off, "We can go get a ring on the next planet we stop at."
"Croissant?" You question.
"Not, how its pronounce but yes, at Coriscant." Which is not the correct response, because you immediately burst into tears.
"But that's like four cycles away on the hyper-speed highway!" You cry to him.
"So we have to wait four cycles to get rings?"
"Yeah, but then we can get whatever we want." He rubs comforting circles into the palm of your hand, it's rough with callouses, like his, and paler than the back of your hands, but he can't help but think you have the cutest hands.
"We have to wait four cycles to get married!" You wail pathetically. "What if I die in surgery? What if we never get married?" You sob harder. There's no pain involved in your tears however, and your hiccuping slowly comes to a stop as Kix approaches the two of you again.
He says your name firmly.
"Yes?"
"You already married him. I watched you exchange vows from my work station. According to Mandalorian- and therefore our culture, you two are married."
"Oh." You say. And you look up at him sheepishly.
"Also, you're cleared for surgery."
"No. I don't wanna."
"If you don't you'll die."
"But I don't have a honey moon with Fives yet."
Kix turns to Fives. Fives turns back to you. "An'edee, this will take like half a day."
"No."
"Okay, then." Fives looks at Kix, who's holding the mask for the anesthetic droid. And he nods at Kix.
"If you don't co-operate I will use my powers vested in me as a medic to divorce you both."
"Okay, fine, but Fives better stay with me the whole time."
Fives and Kix watch as two medics wheel you away to the surgery room, the machine giving you your anesthetic following behind on the two squeaky wheels.
"I can't she likes me back."
"I can't believe you married her while high."
Fives shakes his head at Kix. "I guess it's back to the inventory Captain Rex originally wanted me to do, huh?"
"At least until she comes back from surgery."
He nods. "I'll come back when she wakes up."
"No. You come back when she's out of the operating room. You're going to sit with her until she wakes up," Kix says, "you're her goddamn riduur."
"So we can teach her mando'a now?"
"Yes. But don't teach her the curse words. Let Hardcase take the fall for that."
They both here a rustling of sheets from somewhere vaguely behind them, and then a curtain one bed over from where you used to be opens. "Hey! I take offense to that!" Hardcase says.
"Hardcase? You were there the whole time?" Fives asks.
He nods. "The whole time. Congrats, by the way."
Various echos and variations of congratulations echo the med-bay.
"Alright!" Fives shouts, "who heard me get married?"
Curtains open up, one by one. Jesse waves from a med-slab, and Echo is sitting next to him, reading a holopad. Swoop is somewhere towards the end, and so are Tup and Dogma and even Asoka, curled up under a blanket giggling next to Appo, who was definitely recording at least part of it.
He sighs, and his shoulders slump. "Can we all agree not to tell the captain?"
The wide variety of voices of all his vode all respond with some variation of 'no'.
"Kriff."
It's the day after you surgery. And your tired and your stomach still hurts but no-where near as bad. You're in your bunk, snuggled into the copious amounts of blankets you smuggled on to the Resolute. Things are calm, peaceful even. All your coworkers left for their shifts or to get breakfast, having left with quiet good byes.
The doors to the bunk room opens, and in climb a few clones before the doors close behind them. You recognize them, but it takes a second. None of them are Fives, and a part of you is disappointed.
"Hey guys," you say.
"Hi Vode," Jesse responds.
"Vode?"
He nods, and then holds up a bag. "Vode. You're vode now."
"Yeah!" Hardcase interjects, "you married Fives. So you're vode now."
"I what."
"You married Fives yesterday."
You shake your head in disbelief. "I don't remember half of yesterday. I was high off my sheebs off morphine."
They all nod at each other before echo speaks up from the back.
"Did you, not want to marry Fives?"
"Well um-" and you feel your face heat up, sweat forming in beads on your forehead.
"Well it's not something I'd exactly regret, so to speak," you clarify.
"I'd assume so, you did say you loved him." Jesse states.
"Loudly." Hardcase adds. "Over and over again."
You bury your face in your hands. "Oh maker, I'm never gonna hear the end of this, will I?"
"Marrying Fives? Or telling him you loved him while high off your sheebs of morphine?" Echo asks.
"Both."
Jesse sits on the side of your bunk and puts a comforting hand on your knee. "I don't think anyone will make fun of you for marrying fives. For crying when one of your rings didn't fit on his fingers, sure. For calling him a 'pretty boy with a fuck ass goatee', definitely, but marrying him, and loving him, I don't think so."
"You don't?"
Echo chuckles while leaning against the bed post. "I won't let them, he's my batch brother, only person who can make fun of him is me."
You nod. "And, doesn't he feel the same way? If he just agreed to out of pity knowing I wouldn't remember it?"
Everyone in the room bursts out laughing, and it just makes you nervous. Your hands wind themselves around the edge of your three different fuzzy blankets.
Jesse gives your knee a few good pats. "Probably."
"Probably?" You ask.
Echo nods. "He's been carving his name and your name in hearts on trees for maker knows how long."
Hardcase's face lights up with the blackmail he's been keeping to himself. "He's been saying your name in his sleep for almost the entire time he's known you."
Everyone looks at Hardcase. "What."
"Yeah," he confirms, "he loves you loves you."
That settles something in your stomach. And then another question pops up in your mind. "So where is Fives anyway?"
"Running suicides with the Captain."
That answer satisfies you for a second. "Wait. What did he do? Kix said he had permission from him to stay with me in the med-bay."
"Oh no, he didn't get in trouble for that," Hardcase says, "he's in trouble for not inviting the Captain to his wedding."
"So everyone knows."
Hardcase nods. "Commander Tano made a public announcement over the loud speakers. General Skywalker knows. I think the rear admiral too."
"Oh no."
"It's not a big deal!" Echo insists. "He actually sent us with a gift for you, or the 'newly weds' as he so politely put it."
Jesse pulls the sack off the ground. "I have no idea whats in here, by the way."
"Oh! I should open that now then, shouldn't I?"
Jesse, Hardcase, and Echo lean over you as you slowly open the sack. And inside of it.
"Are those condoms!" You screech. There's a note folded on top.
No warrior children in Kix's med-bay ;)
-Anakin Skywalker